This was that both the girl and Barnes gave a start of recognition. “Ha! They knew each other!” he exclaimed. “Now, then, what does this mean? Can it be that he has any part in this game?” It may seem to the reader a little singular that the detective should even for a moment doubt a man whom he was supposed to know as well as Barnes. But the detective’s experience had been such to make him suspicious of anyone, no matter whom, if the finger of dumb evidence pointed him out. He was a firm believer in evidence of this character, although he did not permit the belief to lead him into injustice. Coming forward with a smile, Barnes said: “How are you this morning, Miss Doane?” At the same time he offered his hand. Rising to meet him, she gracefully accepted the hand he proffered, and replied: “I am very well, thank you. I had not expected to see you here.” “Nor I you.” Seating herself again, she said: “Were you a friend of Mr. Field’s?” “I was.” “I am informed that last night he was murdered.” “Such is the truth as near as we can judge.” Barnes then uttered a low cry of surprise. It had just occurred to him that this was the girl who had claimed to be Mr. Field’s daughter. The detective guessed what was in his mind, and he was silent while he watched these two closely. After a brief space, Barnes said: “It was you who rang a short while ago?” “It was.” “I was at the head of the stairs and heard what you said to the butler. You received a letter from Mr. Field?” “I did.” “Saying that you were his daughter?” “Yes.” “Will you not let me see that letter?” “For what reason?” “It may have a bearing, that we do not now see, on this case.” The girl hesitated. Barnes urged her: “Surely, Miss Doane, you can have no doubt of my friendship?” “None.” As she gave this reply her head drooped and a flush came into her face. “Then let me see it.” “I will do so.” Saying this, she took a letter from her pocket and handed it to him. Thanking her for her confidence in him, Barnes took the letter and opened it. When he read it the detective came forward, and quietly said: “Well, what do you make of it?” The reply was: “It is exactly like every communication made by Mr. Field--clear, concise and businesslike, going directly to the point.” “Did Mr. Field write it?” “He did.” “You recognize the writing?” “I do.” “Would you swear to it?” “I would willingly do so.” “You have had some knowledge of his writing?” “I have. I have received many communications from him, know his writing well and am sure that he wrote this.” “What does the letter say?” “You can read it for yourself.” Barnes handed him the letter. It read: