‘’Fraid you’ll have to sign it yourself,’ said Fatty. Mrs. Moon made an exasperated noise and snatched the pencil from Fatty’s hand. She went and sat down at the table and most laboriously pencilled her name and address. But she mixed up small letters and capital letters in a curious way. The receipt said:
RECEIVED, ONE PARCEL,
by .............................
WInnIe MOOn,
ReDhoUSe
peTeRSWOOD
‘Thank you,’ said Fatty, looking at it closely. ‘But you’ve mixed up small letters and capital ones, Mrs. Moon! Why did you do that?’
‘I’m no writer!’ said Mrs. Moon, annoyed. ‘You take that receipt and be off. Schooling in my days wasn’t what it is now, when even a five-year- old knows his letters.’
Fatty went off. If Mrs. Moon didn’t very well know the difference between small and capital letters, he didn’t see how she could have printed all those spiteful anonymous letters. Anyway, he didn’t really suspect her. He thought about things as he rode down the drive and back through the village. Nosey couldn’t write. Rule him out. Mrs. Moon couldn’t have done it either. Rule her out. That only left Miss Tittle - and the difference between her small and beautiful printing and the untidy, laboured scrawl of the nasty letters was amazing.
‘I can’t think it can be her writing, in those letters,’ thought Fatty. ‘Well, really, this case is getting more and more puzzling. We keep getting very good ideas and clues - and then one by one they all fizzle out. Not one of our Suspects really seems possible now - though I suppose Miss Tittle is the likeliest.’