"
"That is a lie!" exclaimed Helen hotly. "When I went downstairs to
investigate the noise I heard in the library, father, Jimmie told
me who he was to quiet my fright. He showed me a letter, which he
had just found on your desk in the library, confessing that you had
forged Mr. Clymer's name on the check, and begging Jimmie to conceal
your crime and save Barbara and me from the shame of having you
exposed as a forger and a thief."
"I never wrote such a letter!" shouted McIntyre, deeply incensed.
"No, it was a clever plan," acknowledged Sylvester. "On one of my
trips to your house, Colonel McIntyre, I secured wax impressions of
your front door lock. I went to your house Monday night and put
the letter among your papers just before Turnbull was admitted by
your fool of a butler."
"And you gave Jimmie Turnbull a dose of poison - charged Kent, but
Sylvester, his lips gone dry, raised his manacled hands in protest.
"I did not poison him," he cried. "I waited just to see if Turnbull
got the letter and to find out what he'd do with the securities,
which he had refused to turn over to me.
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