had either
enemies or secrets Benton either had no knowledge of them or was
unwilling to disclose it.

In the meanwhile the detective had sought Belle Stanton and interrogated
her to the same end, but with no better success. She talked very freely
on the subject and apparently told all she knew, but this was little or
nothing of importance. She admitted, however that for some time past,
White had seemed worried and nervous, which condition had been steadily
getting worse. He had also, she said, complained of not sleeping and
being worried about some person or something, but he had never mentioned
in her hearing any name.

Failing thus with both Benton and Miss Stanton, the only two persons who
seemed likely to know anything of White's private life, we next had
recourse to inanimate sources. By the detective's advice, we determined
to make an exhaustive search of his rooms. The authorities had, of
course, already done this, but it was just possible something had been
overlooked.

In pursuance of this plan we had visited the premises, and thoroughly
examined everything. I had even gone through the pockets of his clothes
while Miles had ransacked every drawer, vase, and other receptacle that
by any chance might contain anything. It had all, nevertheless, proved
in vain, and we were about abandoning the work, when Miles picked up a
piece of paper, a corner of which had been barely visible, protruding
from under the writing desk. He glanced at it, at first indifferently,
then with a closer interest, and at last took it to the window and
scrutinized it under the light, while I, too impatient to wait on him,
studied it at the same time over his shoulder.

That which he had found was a torn bit of a letter without either
address or signature, but the latter was unnecessary as I recognized the
handwriting of White. The paper was about the following shape, and
contained these broken words and sentences:

[Illustration: Handwritten note]

We turned the sheet over, but the reverse side was blank: evidently the
letter had been concluded on another page, if it were ever concluded,
and all else was missing.

We renewed our search, peering into every nook and corner of the room
and moving the furniture, but there was nothing more. Probably the
other pieces had been thrown into the waste-paper basket which stood
beside the desk, and this scrap, by a lucky chance, had escaped its
destination.

We sent for the landlady and inte