Two
unexpected occurrences hurried them into action."
She leaned forward, stirred by his earnestness.
"What?"
"The quarrel in the restaurant, leading to the making of the will," he
answered gravely, "and my telegram. The two things fit together
exactly. He must have received my first message that same night. In
my judgment he was glad of some excuse to leave New York and determined
to take the first train West. His quarrel with John, coupled with his
disgust of the company he kept, caused him to draw up this will
hurriedly. He left the club intending to pack up and take the first
train."
"And was killed before he could do so?"
"Possibly; but if that dead man had no scar on his chest, he was not
Frederick Cavendish; he was an impostor; some poor victim deliberately
substituted because of his facial resemblance. Tell me, if it was Fred
who was murdered, what became of the money he was known to have in his
private safe? What became of the original copy of the will he had in
his pocket when he left the club?"
She shook her head, convinced that his argument had force.
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