about it, however, the more I have felt it my duty to say something
to somebody, and so, having heard of Professor Kennedy, I decided to
consult him. The fact of the matter is, I very much fear that there
are circumstances which will bear sharp looking into, perhaps a scheme
to get control of the old man's fortune."

The doctor paused, and Craig inclined his head, as much as to signify
his appreciation of the delicate position in which Burnham stood in
the case. Before the doctor could proceed further, Kennedy handed me a
letter which had been lying before him on the table. It had evidently
been torn into small pieces and then carefully pasted together.

The superscription gave a small town in Ohio and a date about a
fortnight previous.

* * * * *

Dear Father [it read]: I hope you will pardon me for writing, but I
cannot let the occasion of your seventy-fifth birthday pass without a
word of affection and congratulation. I am alive and well--Time has
dealt leniently with me in that respect, if not in money matters. I
do not say this in the hope of reconciling you to me. I know that is
impossible after all these cruel years. But I do wish that I could see
you again. Remember, I am your only child and even if you still think
I have been a foolish one, please let me come to see you once before
it is too late. We are constantly traveling from place to place, but
shall be here for a few days.

Your loving daughter,