Give me the paper!" He sat down at a table, where there was a pen and a bottle of ink and wrote boldly: "Will Bransford." With a grin he passed the paper back.
Sanderson stared, then a smile wreathed his lips, for the signature was seemingly a duplicate of that which had been written at the bottom of the letter Will Bransford had written to his father.
On his way to return the paper to Dale, Sanderson paused to listen again to Owen, who whispered to him.

Sanderson stiffened, looked hard at Owen, and then grinned with straight lips.

In less than no time he was out of the house and confronting Dale.
He watched while the latter looked at the signature; he saw the expression of disappointment that swept over Dale's face.

Then Sanderson spoke coldly: "Right and proper, eh, Dale?
Now I'll trouble you for that letter that my dad dropped about a year ago--the one you picked up.

It was a letter from me, an' dad had let you read it.