"But, Nick, ought he not to have feared, from what he knew of the night's happenings, that, though innocent, he might be suspected? And would not that suspicion have caused him to take the precaution to put out of the way evidence that would associate him with the crime?" "Not at the time. He arose early to send off that telegram to his daughter. His conscience was clear of the guilt of Dashwood's murder, and when he left the house he had not arrived at a sober idea of the situation. And I can imagine another reason which could explain why he acted as he did, and we will immediately proceed to test the theory which it raises. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes." "Then you must begin work at once. You must go down the river." "In a boat?" "No. Get a rig. I'll explain on our way to the livery-stable." Nick saw Chick off, and then went to the chief's office. No trace of the missing boat had been found, and the chief was now of opinion that it had been scuttled and sunk. Nick coincided with this view. "Oh," said the chief, "here is something for you, a letter. It came this morning, in my care. Looks like a woman's handwriting." Nick tore open the envelope, which bore the East St. Louis postmark, and found a note which contained these words: "NICK CARTER: You are on a wrong scent. Give up the pursuit of Gabriel Leonard, wait two days, and the truth will come out. You well know I have no love for you, but in this case I am willing to act fairly. You are making a mountain out of a mole-hill. This is all. I have made arrangements to leave, and will be hundreds of miles away when you receive this. Be guided by my advice, and you will live to thank me. C. R." Having read the note, Nick handed it to the chief. "H'm. She is very mysterious, whoever she is, Nick. 'C. R.' Do you know what the initials mean?" "Yes. They stand for Cora Reesey, alias Madame Ree." "Then she is mixed up in this affair, sure enough. But do you believe what she says in the note?" "I'll answer you in a moment. First, I would like to look at that blackmailing letter which she wrote to Leonard." The chief opened a drawer, found the letter and gave it to Nick, who compared the writing with the writing on the note. "A very good imitation," he said, after a few minutes, "and likely to deceive any one except an expert." "Then Madame Ree did not write it?" "No. It was written by Gabriel Leonard. Just what I might have expected." "What is his little game? I confess I am puzzled." "It is a waiting game, chief. There is more in this case than has appeared on the surface. By the way, have you heard from Mrs. Dashwood to-day?" "No." "Call up the house and ask her if she has heard either from her father or her husband. It is not likely that she has heard from her husband, but her father may have written."