"Then I am to understand that this newspaper is correct in its statements?" Potter asked. "You are--" Craige leaned over and looked at the date on the newspaper. "You are a bit behind-hand, Ben. That paper of yours is a day old." "Well, I've only just seen it," Potter's tone had grown querulous. "I had to run on to New York night before last--the night of the inquest, to be exact, and Nina and I only got in this morning, having taken the midnight train. This paper was the first I opened when we reached home, and its account of Cousin Susan's will astounded me." "It took our breath away also," admitted Craige. "Rodgers was with us when we found the will; in fact it was through his agency that it was found at all." Potter swung around so hastily in his endeavor to face Rodgers that he knocked his cane off the desk. "How'd you know there was a will?" he demanded. "Oh, never mind about the cane; let it stay on the floor." "Rodgers had no knowledge of the will's existence any more than the rest of us," declared Craige before Rodgers, who had stooped to pick up Potter's cane, had a chance to answer the latter's question. "He happened to open a trap-door to a hiding place in which lay directions, written by Susan Baird, telling us where to find her papers." Potter stared at his companions in unbounded astonishment. It was some moments before he collected his wits sufficiently to ask a question. "Where," he began, "and how, in the name of God, did Cousin Susan acquire her wealth?" Craige shook a bewildered head. "I cannot answer that question," he admitted. "It is one that has puzzled me hourly since the finding of her will and the discovery of her investments." "They are all genuine?" "Absolutely; gilt edged, most of them." Again Craige shook his head. "Miss Susan showed rare judgment in her investments, rare even in an experienced man of business, and in a woman who posed as a pauper--good Lord!" He raised his hands and dropped them with an expressive gesture. "In all my legal experience the whole affair, her death, her wealth--is the most remarkable." "Considering them together, does not her wealth suggest a motive for her death?" asked Rodgers, breaking his long silence. "But who knew that she was wealthy?" demanded Potter. "Was ever a secret so well kept?" He stopped abruptly as a thought occurred to him and his expression altered. "How about Kitty? Was she in the dark, too, or was she aware that her aunt owned a large fortune?" "She was entirely ignorant of it." Rodgers spoke with marked emphasis, and Potter favored him with a heavy scowl. "Kitty Baird had no idea that her aunt was anything but the pauper she pretended to be. On that I'll stake my reputation." Potter's scowl gave away to an expression of doubt. "It's odd, in fact, it's damned odd!" he exploded. "Kitty lived with her aunt, lived alone with her. How could she help but know of her aunt's financial affairs?"