“Joe Wandersun!” cried Gatineau. “Well, I’m gormed! How did he write that when he’s snug in jail at Montreal?”
“He didn’t write it. It’s a forgery.”
“You mean his wife forged that——?”
“His wife—no. Remember Roberts, man, and how forgery apparently played its part in that case. The same capable scoundrel forged this.”
“Neuburg?”
“Neuburg or Newman or Nachbar, or whatever you like to call him. Forgery is part of his game. And there’s another point. You see it contains a hint of Gunning’s illness—illness is also part of this devil’s game.”
“It says nothing about a dangerous illness.”
“No. Perhaps they’re going to use that as a weapon of shock, to make her lose her head at a moment when it will pay them for her to lose her head. But the other letter—the one addressed to Méduse Smythe?”
The other letter contained a few lines only. They ran:
“All clear. Have seen Landor at Revelstoke. Break your journey there for signatures, etc. Be as clever as you are, my dear, for you are to have a shock at Sicamous. Play up. The Englishman who does not look brainy is safely interned at Montreal.”