oor, and also on
the wrapper of Captain Rowland's papers. He was well known to the deputy
clerk, and so no one questioned his right to go to Drysdale's desk. On
leaving the private office, he locked the door, and hurried back to
Drysdale's house with the papers. He entered Drysdale's room in an
excited manner, and said:

"Why, Drysdale, you must have been bleeding at the office, for there is
blood on your chairs, desk, and on these papers; look there!"

As he spoke, he held out the package with its dull crimson stain. The
shock was too much for Drysdale, and he fainted away instantly. It was
sometime before he revived, but finally, he was able to talk again.

"Please take the wrapper off those papers," he said feebly, "and put
them into another. They are copies of papers in a law case now in court,
and I would not like them to go out in that condition."

Andrews agreed to fix them all neat and clean before sending them, and
he then went out to attend to it. On his way down town, he met Mr.
McGregor, to whom he related what he had done, and its effect.

"Mr. McGregor," he continued, "I think it would be a good idea to
sprinkle some blood in the bank, on the floor, and on the desk, where
young Gordon used to stand; also, to put some blood and hair on the
canceling hammer. Do this in the evening, and arrange to have some one
enter the bank with you in the morning; then, the story will be
circulated until Drysdale will hear it, and it may have a powerful
effect upon him. I think Mr. Pinkerton would approve the plan, if he
were here."

Mr. McGregor thought favorably of the suggestion, and he agreed to act
upon it, as soon as possible. Andrews then went back to Drysdale's
office, wiped up the blood spots, and put Captain Rowland's papers into
a new wrapper. Having sent them off, he returned and passed the
afternoon with Drysdale.

The latter was in a terrible condition; he seemed like a man suffering
from hydrophobia, so sensitive were his nerves, and so depressed was his
mind. His thoughts could turn in only one direction, and that was toward
remorse and fear.

"'Tis guilt alone,
Like brain sick frenzy in its feverish mood.
Fills the light air with visionary terrors
And shapeless forms of fear."

Through advices from Andrews, I was aware that things were approaching a
crisis, and I therefore, went immediately to Atkinson, in order to be
ready for any emergency. I arrived there the very morning