“Yes.”
“He rolled over toward the wall,—or fell against the wall,—and he had just sufficient strength left to get a pencil and a scrap of paper out of his pocket and write that message.”
“Yes,—good heavens, Wise, I know all that!”
“Sure you do. Well, now hark. He didn’t place that paper on the floor to write on it; he held it up against the wall.”
“Well?”
“Well, and part of the writing,—the first part, fell on the wall and not on the paper——”
“What!” shouted Bates. “What was it? Does it change the meaning?”
“Does it! Well, rather! The part on the wall is one letter,—the initial letter of what he wrote——”
“What was it? Tell me, Wise, don’t keep me in suspense!”
“I don’t mean to. It was a T,—a capital T.”