The Detective's Clew: Or, The Tragedy of Elm Grove
girl.”

     The last words he spoke rather to himself than to his listeners.

     “You have a nephew living in Dalton, have you not?” said Leonard, who had as yet taken no part in the conversation.

     “A nephew? Oh, yes—Geoffrey Haywood, I suppose you mean. He is a very good man—very pious and very honest. He has met with great success in his business. Yes, Geoffrey is my best friend.”

     He glanced up, as he spoke, in a slightly defiant manner, as if he expected to be contradicted; but seeing no such purpose on the part of his auditors, he ceased speaking, and drummed nervously on the table.

     “Well, Colonel Conrad,” said Leonard, “Carlos has come here on an errand, and he wishes, though he dreads, to open the subject. It is from your dead brother, Anthony. Carlos knows of the enmity that existed between you and him, but he hopes and I hope that you will hear him through.”

     The old man shook his head.

     “No good can come of any talk about my dead brother,” he said, sadly; “but he may speak. I will hear what he has to say, for if his father left with him a message, it is his duty to deliver it.”

     “Thank you for those words, uncle,” said Carlos, “for now I can go on and tell the story untrammeled. It is a tale of deep wrong, which should bring curses on the perpetrator. The quarrel between you and my father was the work of a villain, whose heart must have been black and rotten—whose sordid desire for wealth must have made him forget all that was noble and manly within him.”

     Carlos then began at a period dating years back, giving the details of a plot that had separated Anthony and William Conrad, filling them with hate and venom toward each other. There was one who had caused it all—who had studied his plans well, and carried them out with fiendish precision; and who was now reaping the harvest of his mischief by living near Colonel Conrad, enjoying his friendship and—his gold.

     “Need I mention the name of the villain?” asked Carlos. “Is not one, and only one, person brought to your mind, and that Geoffrey Haywood? Stop! do not interrupt me now. I must finish, and then I will go or stay, as you bid me. My father learned all the facts a year ago. He wrote to you, but the letter was returned unopened――”

     
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