Granniss was as good as his word, and, finding that Lawrence North was glad to do anything in his power to help Mrs Varian, it was arranged that he should visit at Headland House until Rodney could get back from New York. “But promise me,” Granniss said, “that if you get further letters from the kidnappers you won’t do anything definite until I return.” “I can’t,” said Minna, thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t promise, anyway, but, as you must see for yourself, I can’t do anything till I get that money.” “I suppose not,” Granniss agreed, and went off. During a sociable and chatty evening, Minna told North about the letter from the abductors. “Oh Mrs Varian,” he exclaimed, “you don’t believe it, do you? I only wonder you haven’t had several. It’s a common way of crooks to attempt to get money.” “But this rings so true,” Minna defended herself, and showed him the letter. North studied it. “It sounds plausible enough,” he said, “but how is it possible? How could anyone have kidnapped the girl?” “Now, look here, Mr North, don’t say over and over again, ‘how could he?’ You know somebody or something is responsible for Betty’s disappearance as well as for Mr Varian’s death. Don’t think for a minute that my anxiety about my daughter in any way obliterates or lessens my grief at my husband’s death. But, as you must see, nothing can bring Mr Varian back. While,—something may bring Betty back! Can you wonder, then, that I catch at any straw,—believe in any hope,—take up with any suggestion on the mere chance of getting my child back? If they had asked for my whole fortune, I should pay it—on the chance!” “Yes,” North spoke slowly,—“I see how you feel about it,—but you ought to have some proof that they really have your Betty.” “I’ve thought about that,” Minna shuddered, “but, I’ve read of these cases, and—when they send a proof—sometimes, it’s a—a finger—you know——” “Oh, now, now, don’t be morbid! I don’t mean anything of that sort. But if they would give you a bit of her hair, or a scrap of her own handwriting——” “But how can I demand that? How can I ask for it?” “You just wait for their next instruction. If they are sincere in this offer, if they really have Miss Betty and are really ready to negotiate, they must tell you what to do next. And, Mrs Varian, I advise you to do it. It may be a wrong principle, but your case is exceptional,—and, since you’ve showed me this letter, I can’t help feeling it’s the real thing. For one thing, you can see it’s written by at least a fairly well educated man. I mean, not by the common, ignorant class. Moreover, the very audacity of demanding such enormous ransom, indicates to my mind that the writer can perform his part of the bargain. A mere crook, writing a fake letter, would never dream of asking such a sum. How are you going to manage the payment?”