"No danger of that."
"All the same, I’ll feel better if you pass it over. You can’t have any use for it now."
"Why, of course not; but I hope you don’t think I’d throw you down by giving it up?"
"Certainly not," said Uric, as he rubbed his chin and assumed a smiling air; "but it’s best to be safe."
"I don’t believe I have it here," said Glennon, feeling in his pockets and bringing out some letters and papers. "If I have, you are welcome to it. I’ve got a lot of trash here that don’t amount to anything."
He commenced running the letters and papers over, tossing some of them aside in a careless manner.
"Of course," said Scudder, "I didn’t sign my name to the letter, and I did disguise my handwriting; still, I’d rather see the thing burned, and then I’ll feel safe, for my word is as good as anybody’s."
"Well, here it is," said Glennon, handing the letter over.
Uric drew a breath of relief as he seized it.
"We’ll soon fix that," he said, producing a match. "I’ll burn the thing right here."