“What did you say, Mr. Stone?” he asked quietly.
The detective returned to his seat.
“I said,” he replied, “that the proof of your innocence might depend on your telling this secret of yours. But I begin to think now you will be freed from suspicion whether you tell it or not.”
Instead of looking glad at this assurance, Gregory Hall gave a start, and an expression of fear came into his eyes.
“What do you mean?” he said,
“Have you any letters in your pocket, Mr. Hall?” went on Fleming Stone in a suave voice.
“Yes; several. Why?”
“I do not ask to read them. Merely show me the lot.”
With what seemed to be an unwilling but enforced movement, Mr. Hall drew four or five letters from his breast pocket and handed them to Fleming Stone.
“They've all been looked over, Mr. Stone,” said the district attorney; “and they have no bearing on the matter of the crime.”