A sheet of notepaper was pinned to the letter. Sick at heart, Gard
unfastened it. Mahr's name appeared at the bottom. Gard read: "Dear
lady, you forgot to give your daughter the combination of the jewel safe
and its inner compartment before you sailed. I am attending to that for
you, and have no doubt that she will at once inventory the contents. We
are always glad to return favors conferred upon us."

Gard's heart stood still. A sweeping regret invaded him that he had not
slain the man when his hands were upon him. He threw the note aside and
turned again to Mrs. Marteen's letter.

"You see," he read, "there is nothing for me to do. A wireless to
Dorothy? She has doubtless had the information since the hour of my
departure. What can I do? I have thought of you; but how make you, who
know nothing of Victor Mahr, understand anything in a message that would
not reveal all to everyone who must aid in its transmission? That at
least mustn't happen. I am praying every minute that she will go to
you--you, who know and have tolerated me. I can't bear for her to
know--I can't--it's killing me! My heart contracts and stops when I
think of it."

Further down the page, in another ink, evidently written later, was a
single note:

"I've left a message with the wireless operator, a sort of desperate
hope that it may be of some use--to Dorothy, telling her to consult you
on all matters of importance. I've written one to you, telling you to
find her. The man says he'll send them out as soon as he gets into touch
with anyone."