covertly out of the corner of my eye. Quickly he ran over the
letters, instead of taking them, one by one, in his usual
methodical way. I quite complimented my own superior acumen. He
selected the dainty note.

A moment Craig looked at it in anticipation, then tore it open
eagerly. I was still watching his face over the top of the paper
and was surprised to see that it showed, first, amazement, then
pain, as though something had hurt him.

He read it again--then looked straight ahead, as if in a daze.

"Strange, how much crime there is now," I commented, looking up
from the paper I had pretended reading.

No answer.

"One would think that one master criminal was enough," I went on.

Still no answer.

He continued to gaze straight ahead at blankness.

"By George," I exclaimed finally, banging my fist on the table and
raising my voice to catch his attention, "you would think we had
nothing but criminals nowadays."

My voice must have startled him. The usually imperturbable old
fellow actually jumped. Then, as my question did not evidently
accord with what was in his mind, he answered at random, "Perhaps-