“I don’t know,” he answered; “but in an investigation of this kind, no point is too small to be important. We’ve got to examine everything, weigh everything, pile up every little atom of evidence, if we expect to tip the scale in our direction. It’s very probable that Tremaine never made these marks at all; even if he did, they probably have no significance. But, in any event, it won’t do any harm to make sure; and, besides, I’d like to see a sample of his handwriting, just for its own sake—the handwriting of a man like that ought to be interesting. Ah, here is Thomas.”
“Here’s a letter, sir,” said Thomas.
Godfrey opened it and glanced at the contents.
“He’s a good penman,” he said; “see, Lester,” and he handed me the sheet; “but it’s quite a different hand from the one on the blotter—much broader and more masculine—just such a hand as one would naturally expect a man like Tremaine to write.”
He examined it again for a moment, then folded it up, and handed it back to Thomas.
“Perhaps Mr. Delroy will want it again,” he said. “Now, let us see Mr. Drysdale’s room.”
As he got up from the table, I noticed that he still held the blotter in his hand, and I saw him place it carefully in an inner pocket. After all, then, he did attach some importance to it.
The room which had been occupied by Drysdale was the counterpart of Tremaine’s, but it was in great disorder. An open trunk stood in the middle of the floor, with clothing strewn about it; the bed had not been made…
“We was ordered not t’ do anything toward settin’
