“The speaker being a woman--” Vera dropped the letter as if it burned her fingers. Only one woman was in the library besides herself at 5.55 A.M. Tuesday morning--and that woman was Millicent Porter. CHAPTER XVIII THE COUNTERFEIT BANK NOTE WYNDHAM turned his roadster into the river road and, seeing no vehicle approaching along the straight stretch ahead of him, pressed the accelerator and his car raced homeward. He had found Alan Noyes, his only companion, morose to a degree of rudeness, and had forborne to address him after leaving the county court house. The hearing before Judge Ball had been a tedious affair, and the arranging of bail hampered by red tape, and it was long after the luncheon hour when Noyes was finally permitted to return to Dewdrop Inn with Wyndham. They had traversed a third of the distance homeward along the river road when Noyes touched Wyndham and signed to him to stop. Somewhat surprised, Wyndham drew the car to one side and slowed down as Noyes bent forward and fumbled with the catch of the door. “I’ll walk home from here,” he said, springing out of the car. He reddened as he turned back to hold out his hand to Wyndham. “You’ve been awfully good, old chap; I shan’t forget it, but just now I must be by myself”--he hesitated--“a walk will do me good; see you later.” Wyndham wrung his hand. “You’ve been through a lot; just walk off steam, but don’t get lost in the woods.” He started the car forward, but before rounding the next curve he looked back and was surprised to see Noyes still standing where he had left him, looking from the bluff down the valley. The ground toward the river dipped abruptly at that point and Wyndham, stopping his car, rose in his seat and gazed in the direction Noyes was facing. His only reward was an excellent view of the river and the peaceful countryside, and he was about to drop back in his seat and proceed homeward when he saw Noyes turn, cross the road, and disappear up the hillside. He had been gone but a minute when Wyndham, looking again toward the river, was surprised to see a figure standing near the river bank. The man was too far away for Wyndham to see who he was. The next instant he, too, had disappeared, and Wyndham, after a moment’s indecision, resumed his place behind the steering wheel and started for home; he was not Noyes’ keeper, and if the detectives wished to trail Noyes while he was out on bail, it was the Englishman’s responsibility and not his.