Slowly Darley Champers read. Then, laying down the pages, he said as slowly: "'Unknown' in the Grass River graveyard. 'Unknown' to Jim Shirley and Asher Aydelot, whose eyes he'd never let see him. I understand now, why. Known to me as Thomas Smith, an escaped defaultin' bank cashier who didn't commit suicide. Known to the late Miss Aydelot as Tank Shirley's murderer. If the devil knows where to git on the track of that scoundrel an' locate him properly in hell, he'll do it without my help. By the Lord Almighty, I'll never tell what I know. An' this paper goes to ashes here. Oh, Caesar! If I could only burn up the recollection that I was ever low-down an' money-grubbin' enough to collute with such as him for business. I'm danged glad I had that quarter kep' in Leigh's name 'stead of Jim's. That's why Thomas Smith threatened and didn't act. He didn't dare to go against Leigh as long as Jane Aydelot was livin'." He stuck a blazing match to the letter and watched it crumple to ashes on the rusty stove-hearth. Then he carefully swept the ashes on a newspaper, and, opening his doors again, he scattered them in the dusty main street of Wykerton. That afternoon Champers went again to the Cloverdale Ranch. Leigh was alone, busy with her brushes and paint-board in the seat on the lawn where Thaine Aydelot had found her on the summer day painting sunflowers. The first little sunflower was blooming now by the meadow fence. "Don't git up, Miss Shirley. Keep your seat, mom. I dropped in on a little business. I'm glad to set out here." Champers took off his hat and fanned his red face as he sat on the ground and looked out at the winding river bordered by alfalfa fields. "Nice stand you got out there." He pointed with his hat toward the fields. "Where's Jim?" "He and Asher Aydelot have gone to Careyville to settle some of John Jacobs' affairs. They and Todd Stewart are named as trustees in the will," Leigh replied. She had laid aside her brushes and sat with her hands folded in her lap. Champers pulled up a spear of blue-grass and chewed it thoughtfully. At length he said: "Yes, I knew that. Jacobs left no end of things in the way of property for me to look after. I'll report to them now. I seem to be general handy man. Doc Carey left matters with me, too." "Yes?" Leigh said courteously. "Well, referrin' to that matter regardin' your father we spoke of the other day, I find, through Doc Carey's helpin' an' some other ways, that your father, Mr. Tank Shirley, was accidentally drowned in Clover Creek, Ohio, some years ago. So far as I can find out, he died insolvent. If I discover anything further, I'll let you know." Leigh sat very still, her eyes on the far-away headlands that seemed like blue cloud banks at the moment. "Had you heard of Miss Jane Aydelot's demise? I reckon you had, of course. But do you know what her intentions were?"