“Do you think”—her voice sank lower; she glanced over her shoulder—“do you reckon Atkins had anything to do with that train robbery? Was it a mere pretext to give a chance to murder Mr. Keatcham, fixing the blame on ordinary bandits?”
“By Jove! it might be.”
“I don’t suppose we shall ever know. But, Colonel Winter, do you mind explaining to me just what Brother Cary’s scheme with Mr. Keatcham was? Mrs. Winter told me you would.”
“She told me,” mused the colonel, “that you didn’t know anything about this big game which has netted them millions. They’ve closed out their deals and have the cash. No paper profits for Auntie! She said that she would not risk your being mixed up in it; so kept you absolutely in the dark. I’m there, too. Didn’t you know Mercer had kidnapped Archie?”
“No; I didn’t know he was with Mr. Keatcham at the hotel. It would have saved me a heap of suffering; but she didn’t dare let me know for fear, if anything should happen, I would be mixed up in it. It was out of kindness, Colonel Winter, truly it was. Afterward when she saw that I was worried she gave me hints that I need not worry, Archie was quite safe.”
“And the note-paper?”
“I suppose she gave it to them,” answered Miss Smith.
“And the voice I heard in the telephone?” He explained how firmly she had halted the conversation the time Archie would have reassured him. “You weren’t there, of course?” said he.
“No, I was down-stairs in the ladies’ entrance of the court in the hotel; I had come in a little while before, having carried an advertisement to the paper; I wonder why she—maybe it was to communicate with them without risking a letter.”
“But how did your voice get into my ’phone?” he asked.