“Did he leave any message behind?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
Opal handed her brother a crumpled note, and the young man leaned toward the light to read its contents.
“My God! you don’t believe that?” he exclaimed, turning upon his sister.
“I don’t know what to believe,” was the answer.
“What have you done?”
“Nothing. I’ve been waiting for you. I sent to the club, but the message came back that you had not been there.”
“Something must be done. Certainly father did not mean this. He has not gone to the police.”
“I—don’t—know.”