"I don't know," she answered frankly. "But don't you think that it
is strange--an ancestor of mine murdered and now, hundreds of
years afterward, my father, the last of his line in direct
descent, murdered in the same way, by an Inca dagger that has
disappeared?"
"Then you were listening while I was talking to Professor Norton?"
shot out Kennedy, not unkindly, but rather as a surprise test to
see what she would say.
"You cannot blame me for that," she returned simply.
"Hardly," smiled Kennedy. "And I appreciate your reticence--as
well as your coming here finally to tell me. Indeed, it is
strange. Surely you must have some other suspicions," he
persisted, "something that you feel, even though you do not know?"
Kennedy was leaning forward, looking deeply into her eyes, as if
he would read what was passing in her mind. She met his gaze for a
moment, then looked away.
"You heard Mr. Lockwood say that he had become associated with a
Mr. Whitney, Mr. Stuart Whitney, down in Wall Street?" she
ventured.
Kennedy did not take his eyes from her face as he sought to
extract the reluctant words from her.
"Mr. Whitney has been largely interested in Peru, in business and
in mining," she went on slowly.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53