“What can be the meaning of this?” inquired Roderick.
“Beyond me,” replied Grant. “Evidently others besides myself have come to think you are interested in Barbara Shields. Possibly the young lady has been saying nice things about you, and somebody is jealous.”
“Rank foolishness,” exclaimed Roderick hotly. Then he laughed, as he added: “However, if the young lady interested me before she becomes all the more interesting now. But let the incident drop. We shall see what we shall see.”
They walked up the street to a restaurant and breakfasted.
“It might be,” remarked Grant, referring back to the strange letter, “that Attorney Carlisle, who they say is daffy over Barbara Shields, has had that sleuth of Grady’s, Bud Bledsoe, fix up this letter to sort of scare you off.”
Grant laughed good-humoredly as he said this.
“Scare me off like hell,” said Roderick in disgust. “I am not easily scared with anonymous letters. Only cowards write that sort of stuff.”
They arose from the table and turned down the street towards the smelting plant It was necessary to keep well on the sidewalks and away from the mud in the roadway, for the weather was turning warm and snow was melting very fast.
“There will be no sleighs and sleigh-bells at the Shields’ entertainment,” observed Grant. “This snow in the lowlands will all be gone in a day or two.”
They paused on a street corner and noticed five logging outfits swinging slowly down the street, then turn into the back yard of Buell Hampton’s home and begin unloading.