“It’s outrageous!” he cried, “it’s a shame, but, Miss Powell, the villains may have overreached themselves. They may have started something that will lead to their own undoing. We’ve learned a heap from this experience of yours. Now, tell me all over again,—every smallest detail.”
So again Elsie went over the whole story, and told of every step of the way.
“Clever! clever!” was Coe’s grudging tribute to the ability of the abductors.
“You see the first taxicab was a real one. They engaged the driver to do just what he did do. The second was a fake one,—their own car and one of their own men. Then when the time came, the car was abandoned,—and so were you. They knew you’d get a lift back to the city,—and they didn’t care whether you did or not! In one way, I can’t blame you, Miss Powell, for I see you didn’t dare tell me. Yet, you might have known they’d not release their prisoner.”
“I don’t agree,” cried Elsie. “How could I know that? And if they had given him to me the money was well spent.”
“That’s so; it wouldn’t have been surprising if they had let him go; they’d doubtless be glad to get rid of him. But I think your quick willingness to give the money make them greedy for more, and I think they’ll try the same game right over again.”
“Oh,” Elsie cried, “I couldn’t do it again!”
“No, indeed! And you’re not going to throw away another fifty thousand dollars, if I can prevent it! Now, let’s consider. What have we learned? What sleeping dogs have we stirred up? Much depends on the positive fact that this note is really from Mr. Webb himself. You’re sure?”
“Absolutely,” declared Elsie. “I know Kimball’s writing, and I know that’s it. Nobody could forge so skilfully,—you can see that yourself. It’s dashed off.”
“Yes, that’s so. A forgery would show a little hesitation or painstaking effort. But I’m going to show it to an expert. He can tell if he has some of Webb’s other letters.”