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Updated: June 20, 2025
Kate Gilbert did seem to avoid me, and I caught her big maid glaring at me once or twice as if she hated the sight of me. But why on earth " Farland cleared his throat. "Here is another thought for you to digest," he said. "This Kate Gilbert knows your cousin, George Lerton." Sidney Prale suddenly sat up straight in his chair again, his eyes blinking rapidly. "Doesn't that open up possibilities?"
"What of that?" "That typewriter has a few bad keys, Sid. And I discovered this that the notes sent to the barber and merchant, that caused them to lie and try to smash your alibi, were written on the typewriter in George Lerton's office!" Prale sprang to his feet. "Then Lerton has something to do with this!" he cried. "He tried to get me to leave town, and he tried to break down my alibi.
But why should he try to get Prale out of town? And, being a man of that sort, why did he say that he wouldn't handle Prale's funds? You'd think a man of his sort would like nothing better than to get his fingers tangled up in that million." "I'll have a man take a look at George Lerton." "Don't strain yourself," said Jim Farland.
He watched the building entrance closely, but George Lerton did not come down again. As a matter of fact, Farland scarcely had expected that he would. He believed that Lerton had kept an appointment with Kate Gilbert, and then had continued to his office to take up the work of the day.
The sergeant next ushered in George Lerton. Prale sat up straight in his chair again. Here was where his proper alibi began, with the exception of Jim Farland. George Lerton's face was pale as he sat down at the end of the desk. "Know this man?" the captain asked. "He is my cousin, Sidney Prale." "How long has he been away from New York?" "About ten years," Lerton said.
There had been whispers about his dark methods, and it was well known that a business foe got small sympathy or consideration from him. He was a fashionable cut-throat without any of the milk of human kindness in his system. It was a surprise to Jim Farland to see Lerton walking.
The captain sat up straight in his chair, while Jim Farland removed his hat, sat down, motioned for Murk to do the same, and made himself comfortable. "About that alibi," Farland said. "I know that George Lerton lied about meeting Sid Prale on Fifth Avenue, but you don't, and so we'll let that pass for the time being and get to it later.
They were speaking in very low tones. When they parted, I followed Lerton to his office, and went in and talked to him. I did it just to size him up. He still declares that he never met you on Fifth Avenue. He acts like a man afraid of something; and I discovered an interesting thing, Sid. He has a typewriter in his private office, one for his personal use. I managed to type a short note on it."
"No; I turned east and went to the river." "Wasn't that a peculiar thing to do at that hour of the night?" "It may seem so to you," said Prale, "and I scarcely can tell why I did it. I suppose it was because I wanted to think over what George Lerton had told me, and down in Honduras I always used to walk along the beach when I was thinking." "Well?"
"I'd I'd rather not." "Why not? We've got to talk over old times and find out about each other. We're cousins, you know." The truth of the matter was that Sidney Prale never had thought very much of his cousin. Ten years before they had worked side by side for Griffin, the broker. There was something furtive and shifty about George Lerton, but he never had presumed on his relationship, at least.
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