next I saw him he was quite himself again."

At last the case was beginning to look more hopeful. I thought I could
see a faint spark of light ahead.

"Did you happen to say anything about this to the other detectives when
they were making inquiries after the crime had been committed?" I asked,
with a little anxiety.

"No, I did not," she replied. "I never gave it a thought. It was such a
long time before the murder, you see, and to tell the truth I had
forgotten all about it. It was only when you began to talk of Italy and
of his having been there, that I remembered it. You don't mean to say
you think that letter had something to do with the man's death?"

"That is a very difficult question to answer," I observed. "I think,
however, it is exceedingly likely it may have had some connection with
it. At any rate we shall see. Now will you think for one moment, and see
whether you can tell me the exact day on which that letter arrived?"

She considered for a few moments before she answered.

"I believe I can, if you will give me time to turn it over in my mind,"
she said. "My husband was at home that morning, and Willie, that's my
little boy, was very much upset because I would not let him stay away
from school to help his father in the garden. Yes, sir, I can tell you
the exact date. It was on a Monday, and the third of June."

I thanked her for the information she had given me, and then went off to
see what use it was likely to prove to me. The letter from Italy had