“But, Godfrey,” I said, as we turned in at his gate, “all this scheme of lies—­the star, the murder, the finger-prints—­what was it all about?  I can’t see through it, even yet.”

“There are still a few dark places,” he agreed; “but the outlines are pretty clear, aren’t they?”

“Not to me—­it’s all a jumble.”

“Suppose we wait till we hear Miss Vaughan’s story,” he suggested.  “After that, I think, we can reconstruct the whole plot.  There’s one foundation-stone that’s missing,” he added, thoughtfully.  “I wonder if Miss Vaughan uses a blotting-book?  It all depends upon that!”

“A blotting-book?” I echoed.  “But I don’t see....”

He shook himself out of his thoughts with a little laugh.

“Not now, Lester.  It’s time we were in bed.  Look, there’s the sun!” and he led the way into the house.  “I’ll have you called at nine,” he added, as he bade me good-night at my door.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE MYSTERY CLEARS

Godfrey’s powers of recuperation have astonished me more than once, and never more so than when I found him at the breakfast-table, as fresh and rosy as though he had had a full night’s sleep.  But even I felt better by the time the meal was over.  It is wonderful what a cup of coffee can do for a man!

“I ’phoned a message to Swain, as soon as I was up,” Godfrey said, “telling him, in your name, that we had the evidence to clear him, and that Miss Vaughan was safe.”

“I must go down to him,” I said, “and start proceedings to set him free.  I’ll get Simmonds to go with me before Goldberger, and then before the magistrate.  We ought to get an order of release at once.”

“You’ve got something to do before that,” Godfrey reminded me.  “We’re to hear Miss Vaughan’s story at ten o’clock.  I’m taking it for granted,” he added, with a smile, “that I’ll be welcome, as well as Hinman.”

“That doesn’t need saying,” I retorted, and ten minutes later, we were on the way to Elmhurst.

There was a man on guard at the library door, but he allowed us to pass when we gave our names, having evidently had his instructions from Simmonds.  In answer to Godfrey’s question, he said that, so far as he knew, no trace had been found of Silva.

We went on into the room, and found that some one, Simmonds presumably, had closed the safe and swung the section of shelving back into place before it.  It was not locked, however, and I opened it and went through its contents carefully, with the faint hope that the money might have been thrust into some other compartment.  But I found no trace of it, and was replacing the contents, when a voice at the threshold brought me to my feet.

“Mr. Lester!” it said, and I turned to behold a vision which made me catch my breath—­a vision of young womanhood, with smiling lips and radiant eyes—­a vision which came quickly toward me, with hands outstretched.