Night was earlier there than on the open slope under the unimpeded sky. Dol, shivering as she entered the shadow, deliberately did not look at P. L. Storrs, and yet saw and felt the presence as she stuck to the concrete walk until nearest to the overturned bench, where she stepped onto the grass. She stood for a moment, considering the technical problem of fingerprints on paper, then moved to where the crumpled sheet lay and bent over to pick it up. Gingerly she straightened it out and frowned at it. It was a promissory note, a printed form filled out in ink. The writing was precise and eminently legible. It was dated Ogowoc, Connecticut, August 11, 1936, and it went on: On demand I promise to pay to George Leo Ranth or order the sum of Fifty Thousand and 00/100 Dollars without interest. Value received. Cleo Audrey Storrs. Dol read it several times, turned it over and looked at the reverse side, which was blank, crumpled it up again as it had been, and returned it to its original position on the grass.
