"Well!" cried Mr. Byrd, glancing at Hickory, "what are we to think of this?"
"Looks like the work of old Sally Perkins," observed the other, pointing out the lack of date and signature.
"So it does," acquiesced Mr. Byrd, in a relieved tone. "The miserable old wretch is growing impatient."
But Mr. Ferris, with a gloomy frown, shortly said:
"The language is not that of an ignorant old creature like Sally Perkins, whatever the writing may be. Besides, how could she have known about the ring? The persons who were present at the time it was picked up are not of the gossiping order."
"Who, then, do you think wrote this?" inquired Mr. Byrd.
"That is what I wish you to find out," declared the District Attorney.
Mr. Hickory at once took it in his hand.
"Wait," said he, "I have an idea." And he carried the letter to one side, where he stood examining it for several minutes. When he came back he looked tolerably excited and somewhat pleased. "I believe I can tell you who wrote it," said he.
"Who?" inquired the District Attorney.