" "It shall be, Sir," replied Ireton, bowing. "I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. " "No more of this," said Winifred, angrily. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. Did you warn Frith?’ ‘Yes. “Wow, congratulations, Martin. Will you take it in to him?” The young man smiled in a superior manner. I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald. ‘Imbecile. . Yet I shall think of you to-day. ’ ‘That is what you think? Eh bien. I said to myself at once, ‘Either this is a coincidence or the caper sauce. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam.
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