ow here----"

Drew tapped the envelopes with his fingers, spread them open and
removed their sheets of closely-written paper.

"First letter," he announced with raising brows, "is from Standard
Electrical Co., of Chicago, recommending Albert Jones as a capable
electrician. I don't doubt it. He's capable of most anything."

Delaney took the letter and waited with his eyes fastened upon the
silent figure who had not revealed his identity from the time of the
arrest.

"Second letter," continued Drew, "is addressed to Albert Jones, General
Delivery, New York Post Office. It is from Ossining. It is signed
Mortimer Morphy. How careless," said the detective, rising in his
excitement. "How _very_ careless! It goes on to say that everything is
all right. That the appeal is pending with the governor. That uncle
Monty was expected to die and that aunt Lou was very low."

Drew paused and glanced toward Loris and Nichols. "You know what that
means?" he asked. "Uncle Monty was Mr. Montgomery Stockbridge and aunt
Lou would figure out for you, Miss Stockbridge. Keep this, Delaney.
We're going to convict this man right here--whether he talks or not.
This letter was written to him two months ago. It shows premeditation."

"He looks ill," said Loris. "His face is so white."

"Dope!" snapped Drew, pressing down the prisoner's right eyelid and
glancing at the pupil. "A narcotic of some kind shows in the small
iris. It's like a pin head. Yen she, eh, Delaney?"

"Guess it is, Chief. Frisk his cap and belt. They carry it there,
sometimes."

Drew started at the prisoner's hair and went over his entire body with
careful fingers. A bulge, at the waist, resolved itself into a chamois
money-belt which contained five cartridges, a small handful of electric
fuses and a spool of fine wire.

Drew eyed this last with furrowed brow. He pocketed it finally and
studied the cartridges.

"Twenty-two, cupronickel, center-fire," he announced with a hard smile.
"That forges another chain. We're getting there. He was loaded for
something, Delaney."

"Sure and he was. Look at those handcuffs, Chief. I made them tight as
I could."

Drew handed up the cartridges and fuses and rattled the cuffs. The
prisoner protested by turning partly over. His eyelids fluttered and
opened full upon Loris. She shrank back between the curtains. Her hands
went up to her face in voiceless fear. "Please keep away," said Drew.
"This man is always dangerous. I want to tr