"No matter; but can you deny it is yours?"
"By thunder! I guess I can! that is not my handwriting," he replied, trying
to bluff it off.
"No, the handwriting is not yours, I know. But dare you say that that is
not an exact copy of a letter that was written by your hand?"
"Well, you have me there, Sherwood, so I may as well own up. I was going to
do a bit of shrewd business for myself, but someone seems to have got ahead
of me. Now I look at this writing, it is singularly like the writing on my
tombstone," he added, as he studied the letter before him; "but, of course,
it isn't possible."
Receiving no answer, he looked up at Mr. Sherwood and seemed to read the
truth in his face.
"You don't mean to say that my conjecture is right?"
"Yes, Dexie's thoughtfulness and quick perception have saved me a good
thousand. Your doings on Prince Edward Island were made known to her in a
singular manner, and she was sharp enough to see the advantage that an
exact copy of your letter would be to me; and as your letter was placed in
her hands quite unexpectedly, she copied it. You and I must part. I'll have
no schemer like you for a partner any longer.
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