“Who left that warning in the Thingvalla road last night?” he asked, facing Ketchum.
“Who? How should I know?”
At this, New Antrim leaned forward to a man with curiosity. Eric drew out the warning and told where he had found it. Then he passed it gravely to Mr. Caxton.
“Billy Ketchum left that in the road,” said Eric. “He did it to keep us away from the meeting. He tried to make us think that the New Antrim settlement was against us. He had found out that I knew the real value of those pine lands.”
Again Billy hopped up. “I dare him to prove it, Mr. Chairman! I didn’t come here to be insulted. I tell you—I dare him to prove it!”
“Well, I will,” said Eric, coolly.
At that the shoemaker stepped round behind the table and picked up a long, slender, paper-covered roll and handed it to Eric. Eric held it up, and pointed to Ketchum’s name written upon it, for it was a roll of maps. Ketchum rushed at Eric and tried to grasp his property, but Eric brushed him aside.
Then he unrolled the manila covering of the maps a few inches and held it up. One corner was torn off. He took the warning notice from Mr. Caxton’s desk and held it in the place of this torn corner. It fitted perfectly.
“My father happened to see this when he came in,” explained Eric. “What more proof do you want?”
For a moment the room was still. Then the same deep voice which had spoken once before burst out: