Then to Miss Austin’s continued distress, Stone read the message aloud. It was from San Francisco, and it said: “Better own up and tell the whole truth. I have annexed Carl.” It was signed merely “A” and apparently it was of dire import to its recipient. Miss Mystery sat silent, and wide-eyed in desperation, as she looked hopelessly from one to another. “Don’t you think,” said Stone, not unkindly, “that you’d better follow A’s advice and make a clean breast of the whole matter?” CHAPTER XVI MISS MYSTERY’S TESTIMONY Miss Mystery looked from Stone’s impassive face to Fibsy’s eager boyish countenance. Then she looked at Maurice Trask. The latter showed deepest sympathy and interest but Trask also had a wary air, as if ready to interrupt any disclosures that might be damaging to the girl. “First of all,” Stone said, “who sent you that telegram from San Francisco?” “I don’t know.” The calm little face was as expressionless as Stone’s own, and she made her statement as straightforwardly as if it had been true. “Miss Austin,” Stone spoke severely now, “it’s to your own advantage to adopt a more amenable manner. You will not help your cause by prevarication or evasion. Unless you will answer my questions truly, I must find out these things for myself. I can do it.” “If you can find out who sent that telegram, go ahead,” she flared at him. “I tell you I don’t know who sent it, and I don’t know who ‘A’ is.” “I know who she is,” said Fibsy, and then Anita’s quick, startled glance proved to the boy that his little ruse was successful and he had at least guessed the sex of the sender. “A woman,” the astute lad mused, “and she has annexed Carl. Maybe Carl is another name for that escaped Japanese. But it’s all so far away. How can they conduct operations between here and California!” “Miss Austin,” Stone tried to win her confidence, “believe me I am most anxious to help you. Please tell me why you came over here that Sunday night. It is utterly useless to deny that you did come, now tell me why.” Anita looked baffled, but after a moment’s pause, she said, “Do you think I killed Doctor Waring?” “I know you didn’t,” broke in Fibsy, with enthusiasm. “Now, come across, Miss Austin, and I’ll bet you F. Stone can dope out the whole game.” “I know most of the circumstances already,” Stone smiled, and followed up the small advantage he had gained. “You came over here late, secretly, across the snowy field. Doctor Waring let you in?” “Yes,” Anita breathed the word, and her starry eyes never left Stone’s face. She seemed almost hypnotized. “Then you sat down in the chair you’re in now, and he locked the door—why did he do that?” “I don’t know—he didn’t! Stop! You have no right to torment me like this! I have counsel—Mr. Trask here is my lawyer. Let him tell me what to do!”