“‘And you and brother Harry swallowed this magnificent story as a child of five years would the hobgoblin story told by its nurse—that is, you believed it, of course.’
“‘Lottie, how could we help believing it, when the proof was so plain? What was Viola doing with Bowles’ letter in her dress pocket? What was she visiting his apartments at the dark hours of night for? Were they not planning schemes of murder? Does not the letter prove this beyond all question? What is the use of clinging to an idea that has no foundation to rest on? If I owned all the money in the world I would give it to know Viola was not guilty.’
“‘Eddie, I love you too much—I wish I didn’t, for I had made up my mind to give you a real good scolding; but how can I have the heart to abuse my old booby when I love him so? But let me tell you one thing now, and be very sure you don’t forget it—if ever you hint or insinuate in my presence again that you think Viola Bramlett is anything but a pure, honest, virtuous, persecuted orphan girl, I’ll make such a rattling storm in your ears as you never have heard in all the days of your life.’
“‘If I were to see her murder a brigade, I’d never say so before you.’
“‘Very good; you had better try to remember that, for I tell you, Mr. Booby, I know her to be innocent; and that is not all, by a long jump—I know exactly who is guilty. You and Harry imagine yourselves to be exceedingly clever. You bring penitentiary birds from Philadelphia, and pay them large rewards to blacken the name of a pure, honest girl. I declare, you ought to congratulate yourselves on the success of your enterprise!’
“‘Lottie, for Heaven’s sake, if you know who committed that cruel murder, why do you let Viola remain in jail? Why don’t you expose the guilty one, and let the innocent one go free?’
“‘I shall do that at the proper time. I have got a net set, and the guilty one is partially entangled in it now; but the time has not yet come to make the final drag. You and Harry have been on the wrong trail all the time, and so have your clever detectives.’
“‘Why don’t you tell Harry and me all about the case, so we can help you?’
“‘I mean to make you help me without telling you anything, because I think it is best to keep my secrets from you; and as to brother Harry, he never had the starch taken out of him until to-day. His ungovernable pride has caused all this trouble, but I think he will not ride such a tall horse any more. He is a dear, noble-hearted brother, but he never has put the curb on his temper—in fact, he never has tried to control his passions; and you know as well as I do that no one can be happy who can’t manage his passions.’
“‘Lottie, where did you manage to pick up such a store of good sense; it sounds like inspiration. I know it can’t be my love for you that makes me think like that—it is simply because it is so.’