He had the book in his pocket. Taking it out, he handed it to the
major, with this remark:
"You won't find anything there; the gent's been fooling you."
The major opened the book, shook it, looked under the cover, found
nothing, and crossed hastily to the drawing-room. We as hastily
followed him. The district attorney was talking with Miss Tuttle;
Mr. Jeffrey was nervously pacing the floor. The latter stopped as
we all entered and his eyes flashed to the book.
"Let me take it," said he.
"It is absolutely empty," remarked the major. "The letter has
been abstracted, probably without your knowledge."
"I do not think so," was Mr. Jeffrey's unexpected retort. "Do you
suppose that I would intrust a secret, for the preservation of
which I was ready to risk life and honor, to the open pages of a
book? When I found myself threatened with all sorts of visits from
the police and realized that at any moment my effects might be
ransacked, I sought a hiding place for this letter, which no man
without superhuman insight could discover. Look!"
And, pulling off the outside wrapper, he inserted the point of
his penknife under the edge of the paper lining the inside cover
and ripped it off with a jerk.
"I pasted this here myself," he cried, and showed us where between
this paper and the boards, in a place thinned out to hold it, there
lay a number of folded sheets, which, with a deep sigh, he handed
over to the major's inspection.
Pages:
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342