ntment.

"Quite sure, sir," replied the other, confidently, "I went to the
letter rack several times that night, and I am sure there were none for
Mr. Fitzgerald."

"Ah! I thought as much," said Calton, heaving a sigh.

"Stop!" said Brown, as though struck with a sudden idea. "Though there
was no letter came by post, sir, there was one brought to him on that
night."

"Ah!" said Calton, turning sharply. "At what time?"

"Just before twelve o'clock, sir."

"Who brought it?"

"A young woman, sir," said Brown, in a tone of disgust. "A bold thing,
beggin' your pardon, sir; and no better than she should be. She bounced
in at the door as bold as brass, and sings out, 'Is he in?' 'Get out,'
I says, 'or I'll call the perlice.' 'Oh no, you won't,' says she.
'You'll give him that,' and she shoves a letter into my hands. 'Who's
him?' I asks. 'I dunno,' she answers. 'It's written there, and I can't
read; give it him at once.' And then she clears out before I could stop
her."

"And the letter was for Mr. Fitzgerald?"

"Yes, sir; and a precious dirty letter it was, too."

"You gave it to him, of course?"

"I did, sir. He was playing cards, and he put it in his pocket, after
having looked at the outside of it, and went on with his game."

"Didn't he open it?"

"Not then, sir; but he did later on, about a quarter to one o'clock. I
was in the room, and he opens it and reads it. Then he says to himself,
'What d--d impertinence,' and puts it into his pocket."

"Was he disturbed!"

"Well, sir, he looked angry like, and put his coat and hat on, and
walked out about five minutes to one."

"Ah! and he met Whyte at one," muttered Calton. "There's no doubt about
it. The letter was an appointment, and he was going to keep it. What
kind of a letter was it?" he asked.

"Very dirty, sir, in a square envelope; but the paper was good, and so
was the writing."

"That will do," said Calton; "I am much obliged to you," and he hurried
down to where Madge awaited him in the cab.

"You were right," he said to her, when the cab was once more in motion
"He got a letter on that night, and went to keep his appointment at the
time he met Whyte."

"I knew it," cried Madge with delight. "You see, we will find it in his
lodgings."

"I hope so," answered Calton; "but we must not be too sanguine; he may
have destroyed it."

"No, he has not," she replied. "I am convinced it is there."

"Well," answered Calton, looking at her, "I don't c