They thought me unconscious still, and spoke occasionally; little by little I recognized their voices, and understood their words." Her voice broke into a sob, but the Sergeant's eyes were still gazing vigilantly out over the snow-clad hills.
"It is hard to tell the rest," she said finally, "but I learned that it was not robbery, but the betrayal of trust.

My father was guilty, and yet at the same time a victim.

I only got the truth in snatches, which I had to piece together, although later I learned other details.

Mrs.
Dupont had bled my father through some knowledge she had gained of his sister's family.

I cannot even imagine what this could have been, but it was sufficient for her purpose.