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Post, Melville Davisson, 1871?-1930

"The Sleuth of St. James's Square"


"Dillworth," he said calmly, "I know where he is. And the mark
you felt for just now ought to be there."
"Fool!" cried the hunchback. "If I killed him how could he ride
away from the door?"
"It was a thing that puzzled me," replied my father, "when I
stood in this house on the morning of your pretended robbery. I
knew what had happened. But I thought it wiser to let the evil
thing remain a mystery, rather than unearth it to foul your
family name and connect this child in gossip for all her days
with a crime."
"With a thief," snarled the man.
"With a greater criminal than a thief," replied My father. "I
was not certain about this gold on that morning when you showed
me the empty boxes. They were too few to hold gold enough for
such a motive. I thought a quarrel and violent hot blood were
behind the thing; and for that reason I have been silent. But
now, when the coins turn up, I see that the thing was all
ruthless, cold-blooded love of money.
"I know what happened in that room. When your brother David
struck the old secretary with his elbow, and the dozen indigo
boxes fell and burst open on the hearth, you thought a great
hidden treasure was uncovered.


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