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At any rate, she must have been dead before she could
send it. But it was addressed to--Burke Collins."
"Burke Collins!" exclaimed Kennedy and I together in amazement.
He was one of the leading corporation lawyers in the country,
director in a score of the largest companies, officer in half a
dozen charities and social or ganisations, patron of art and
opera. It seemed impossible, and I at least did not hesitate to
say so. For answer O'Connor simply laid the letter and envelope
down on the dresser.
It seemed to take some time to convince Kennedy. There it was in
black and white, however, in Blanche Blaisdell's own vertical
hand. Try to figure it out as I could, there seemed to be only one
conclusion, and that was to accept it. What it was that interested
him I did not know, but finally he bent down and sniffed, not at
the scented letter, but at the covering on the dresser. When he
raised his head I saw that he had not been looking at the letter
at all, but at a spot on the cover near it.
"Sn-ff, sn-ff," he sniffed, thoughtfully closing his eyes as if
considering something.


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