in a thousand that any of his few acquaintances in Australia would ever run across him in New Zealand; and besides, he was chosen because it seems there was a slight resemblance between him and the real Henry LaSalle—­enough, with his changed mode of living and more elaborate and pretentious surroundings, to have enabled him to carry through a bluff had it become necessary.  He had all of my uncle’s papers; and the Crime Club furnished him with every detail of our lives here.  I forgot to say, too, that from the moment my uncle was supposed to have reached New Zealand all his letters were typewritten—­an evidence in father’s eyes that his brother had secured a position of some importance; as, indeed, from apparently unprejudiced sources, they took pains to assure father was a fact.  This left them with only my uncle’s signature to forge to the letters—­not a difficult matter for them!

“Believing that they had Travers so deeply implicated that he could do nothing, even if he had the inclination, which they had not for a moment imagined, and arrogant in the belief in their own power to put him out of the way in any case if he proved refractory, they admitted all this to him that night when he brought up the issue of the real Henry LaSalle putting in an appearance sooner or later, and when they wanted him to smooth their path by releasing all documents where his power of attorney was involved.  Do you see now the part they gave Travers to play?  It was to put the stamp of genuineness upon the false Henry LaSalle.  Not but that they were prepared with what would appear to be overwhelmingly convincing evidence to prove it if it were necessary; but if the man were accepted by the estate’s lawyer there was little chance of any one else questioning his identity.”

She halted again by the table—­and forced a smile, as her eyes met Jimmie Dale’s.

“I am almost through, Jimmie.  That night was a terrible one for both of us.  Travers’ life was not worth a moment’s purchase once they found him—­and mine was only under reprieve until sufficient time to obviate suspicion should have elapsed after father’s death.  We had no proof that would stand in any court—­even if we should have been given the chance to adopt that course.  And without absolute, irrefutable proof, it was all so cleverly woven, stretched over so many years, that our charge must have been held to be too visionary and fantastic to have any basis in fact.

“All Travers would have been able to advance was the statement that the supposed Henry LaSalle had admitted being an impostor and a murderer to him!  Who would believe it!  On the face of it, it appeared to be an absurdity.  And even granted that we were given an opportunity to bring the charge, they would be able to prove by a hundred influential and well-known men in New Zealand that the impostor was really Henry LaSalle; and were we able to find any of my uncle’s old acquaintances in Australia, it would be necessary to get them here—­and not one of them would have reached America alive.