ich has
dissolved many a happy marriage. However, I can find no trace here. I
rejoice, however, to perceive that he wrote with a broad-pointed quill
pen, and I can hardly doubt that we will find some impression upon this
blotting-pad. Ah, yes, surely this is the very thing!"

He tore off a strip of the blotting-paper and turned towards us the
following hieroglyphic:--

GRAPHIC

Cyril Overton was much excited. "Hold it to the glass!" he cried.

"That is unnecessary," said Holmes. "The paper is thin, and the reverse
will give the message. Here it is." He turned it over and we read:--

GRAPHIC

"So that is the tail end of the telegram which Godfrey Staunton
dispatched within a few hours of his disappearance. There are at least
six words of the message which have escaped us; but what remains--'Stand
by us for God's sake!'--proves that this young man saw a formidable
danger which approached him, and from which someone else could protect
him. 'US,' mark you! Another person was involved. Who should it be but
the pale-faced, bearded man, who seemed himself in so nervous a state?
What, then, is the connection between Godfrey Staunton and the bearded
man? And what is the third source from which each of them sought for
help against pressing danger? Our inquiry has already narrowed down to
that."

"We have only to find to whom that telegram is addressed," I suggested.

"Exactly, my dear Watson. Your reflection, though profound, had already
crossed my mind. But I dare say it may have come to your notice that if
you walk into a post-office and demand to see the counterfoil of another
man's message there may be some disinclination on the part of the
officials to oblige you. There is so much red tape in these matters!
However, I have no doubt that with a little delicacy and finesse the end
may be attained. Meanwhile, I should like in your presence, Mr. Overton,
to go through these papers which have been left upon the table."

There were a number of letters, bills, and note-books, which Holmes
turned over and examined with quick, nervous fingers and darting,
penetrating eyes. "Nothing here," he said, at last. "By the way, I
suppose your friend was a healthy young fellow--nothing amiss with him?"

"Sound as a bell."

"Have you ever known him ill?"

"Not a day. He has been laid up with a hack, and once he slipped his
knee-cap, but that was nothing."

"Perhaps he was not so strong as you suppose. I should think he may have