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.But with all the men on furloughs and passes, and going through the city from other posts, it'll be weeks before we'll know for sure."The door opened, and Captain Gerlach poked his head in.He said, "Hi, Mike," and then to the chief, "I've got a couple out here we’d like to have you talk to."Dyer nodded.The captain opened the door and stepped back saying, "Go right on in, folks.The chief will want to hear your story."Shayne moved to go out as a middle-aged couple came in, but Gerlach stopped him."You'd better sit in on this, too.Alike." He closed the door behind the couple and said, "This is Mr.and Mrs.Barton, Chief.They think they may have some information on the body we found in the river last night."Mrs.Barton was a small lady with silvery hair.She had a sweet, unlined face, and she had been crying.The tears started flowing again as she took a step toward the chief's desk and said, "It's our boy.We know it is.The picture in the paper don't look like Jack but we know it's him."Her husband was a tall, stooped man, wearing what was evidently his "good" suit of blue serge, shiny in the seat and elbows, but neatly pressed.He moved to his wife's side and took her arm and said, "Now, Mother.We don't know for sure.Don't take on like that."Captain Gerlach pushed a couple of chairs around for them, and Chief Dyer reseated himself.Mr.Barton got a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her withered hand, murmuring something in her ear.She put the handkerchief up to her face and sobbed into it.Dyer asked, "Is your son missing?""Yes, sir.Jack's been gone since last Tuesday.We've tried not to worry, but when we read about it in the paper and how it said he wasn't identified yet, and all—well, we're afraid it's him."''Does the description fit him?"''It fits him too good," Mr.Barton said fearfully."If we could look at him, sir.You haven't identified him yet, I reckon?" He leaned forward, despair overcoming the faint hope in his voice."Murder," Mrs.Barton sobbed through the handkerchief."Jack said 'it would be murder, and that's what it is.If we'd only opened his letter in time to stop him—" '"Now, Mother." Mr.Barton clumsily patted his wife's shoulder."No need to blame yourself.We couldn't stop him from going to see Mr.Towne.You know we couldn't.Jack was always that stubborn."Captain Gerlach moved uneasily, and Chief Dyer's hand trembled as he took the cigarette holder away from his mouth."Jefferson Towne?"."Yes, sir.The big mining man.Him that's running for mayor.I dunno what this is in the paper about him killing a soldier last Tuesday, but I guess we better tell you the whole thing.""I think you'd better," Dyer said drily.Mr.Barton reached inside his coat pocket and drew out a much-thumbed sheet of paper.He passed it across to Dyer, explaining dully, "Here's a letter Jack wrote last Tuesday just before he went out right after noon.He left it pinned on his pillow and Mother didn't find it till late that evening.But we didn't worry so much after we read it, because a Mexican came by about five o'clock to get Jack's Gladstone bag, and he said Jack was going on a trip and for us not to worry.Jack had packed his bag, seems like, before he went out, but he never said anything to us about it.You better read the letter, and then you'll see why we think it's Jack."Dyer looked at Gerlach and Shayne as he unfolded the sheet of paper.He mashed out his cigarette and began to read aloud:Dear Mother and Dad,I can't stand the way things are going any longer.Tm just a burden on you and I'm going to quit letting you support me.You'll think what I'm going to do is blackmail, but I don't care anymore.I’m leaving this note so you'll know who's to blame if anything happens to me.I'm going to see Mr.Jefferson Towne this afternoon and he has promised to give me ten thousand dollars in cash to pay me for keeping still about something I know so he can win the election.But I don't trust Mr.Towne and I'm afraid he may try to kill me to keep from paying the money.I'm going to take the risk because I don't see any other way to quit being a burden on you.If I'm not back by tonight when you find this, you'll know I'm probably dead and Mr.Towne is responsible.If that happens, take this letter to the police, and get the notebook out of my Gladstone and take it to Mr.Neil Cochrane on the Free Press and he will give you five hundred dollars for the notebook, and he will pass the information in it against Mr.Towne.I have sort of told Mr.Cochrane what it is and he has promised to pay that much for it.He suspects Mr.Towne will kill me instead of paying the money, and I’m leaving this letter at his suggestion.No matter what happens I love you even if I haven’t been much good.Jack.Chief Dyer refolded the letter and laid it on his desk.Mrs.Barton's sobbing had ceased
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