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Updated: June 20, 2025
And Prale knew that it was not because of an overwhelming love George Lerton had for him, not anxiety lest ill fortune should come to Sidney Prale. He would have to think it out, he told himself. At least, he knew that he had foes working against him, and could be on guard continually.
He paused there a moment and seemed to pull himself together, as if making sure before entering the room of questions he wanted to ask and information he wanted to gather. Then he threw the door open, stepped quickly inside, closed the door, and turned the key. Lerton was sitting at his desk with his back to the door. He made no move until he heard the key turned.
"You keep right on trying to figure it out," Farland advised him. "You might think of something in time that will give me a start in my work." "Why did the banker and hotel manager lie?" Prale asked. "Why did the clothing-store man and the barber lie? Why did George Lerton declare that he did not see me and speak to me last night? And how did my fountain pen get into Shepley's room?" "Huh!
He thanked Lerton once more and departed. Out in the corridor and some distance from the Lerton office, he took from his pocket the note he had written on Lerton's private typewriter and glanced at it quickly. Farland was merely verifying what he had noticed as he had typed the note. "That was a lucky hunch about that typewriter," he told himself.
We know that Kate Gilbert is one of them, and have reason to suspect that George Lerton is another. But there is somebody bigger behind, and that's a fact." "What are you going to do next?" Prale asked. "I'm going to pay a little attention to the Rufus Shepley murder case. I'm going to find out, if I can, who killed Shepley, and why.
I trailed him myself and met him on Fifth Avenue, and tried to get him to go away, and afterward denied that I had seen him at all, for he was accused of the murder of Rufus Shepley." "Which was your deed!" Farland put in. "Go ahead tell it all. Let us see whether you were clever or merely an amateur at crime." "Oh, I was clever enough!" Lerton boasted.
"I'll watch for Kate Gilbert, and when I see her I'll ask why she sent me those notes. Then I'll get George Lerton alone and choke out of him why he lied about meeting me on the Avenue. I've trimmed worse men than George Lerton." "You'll be a good little boy and do nothing of the sort," Farland told him.
He had a quarrel with his sweetheart in the old days and left for Honduras twenty-four hours later and remained there for ten years." "I know all about that, of course," Farland said. "You perhaps have guessed that he sent for me engaged me to get him out of this little scrape." "Murder, a little scrape?" Lerton gasped. "I should call it a very serious matter."
I walked up the Avenue, and met my cousin, George Lerton, the broker." "Meet him accidentally?" "He overtook me called to me." "How long did you talk to him?" "For only a few minutes," said Prale. "You must understand that, while George Lerton is my cousin, we are not exceptionally friendly, and never have been.
Jim Farland asked him. "The woman seems to be working against you for some reason, and we know that George Lerton lied about meeting you on Fifth Avenue that night. It appears that he is working against you, too, for some mysterious motive." A dangerous gleam came into Sidney Prale's eyes. "That simplifies matters," he said.
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