"One evenin', a week or so before the findin' o' the money, he saw a man step from the Palace Drug Store—"
Mountjoy's eyebrows suddenly shot upwards, and he sat up straighter in his chair.
"—which, as you know," the other went on at once, "is catty-cornered across from the Nettleton Buildin' on Court Street. He ran up to this man to sell him a paper an' the man stepped up in the shadow of a doorway an' asked the boy would he deliver a letter if he—the man—bought all the papers. The boy hung back; then the man pulled out a dollar, sayin' he'd give that too if the boy'd only hurry. The little lad then agreed to take the letter which the man handed him, together with the dollar, an' twenty cents for the four Expresses he still had. The man then told the boy to listen sharp while he learned where the letter was to be delivered. After bein' satisfied that the boy understood, the man hurried away.
"It seems that the more the boy thought about it, the less he liked the job. The address told him was in a part o' town the boy didn't know much of, an' it begun to loom pretty prominent in his mind that he was scairt to go there after night. So it ended in him a-goin' home an' hidin' the letter an' money, gettin' rid o' the hull thing easy, like a boy can, you know.
"But when Hunter himself heard about it, he went into the matter further an' found out a bit more.
"What did the man look like? The boy couldn't tell, as he had not only been in the shadow, but his coat collar was turned up an' a soft hat was pulled down over his eyes; but he had been mighty polite an' soft spoken, an' the lad knew that his clothes were extra fine—a 'swell dresser,' as Hunter put it.
"Next, what night was it? This soundin' by an' by struck deep water an' a clear way ahead: the night o' the murder in the Nettleton Building.
"What time that night? The boy couldn't say exactly, but it was about half an hour before he got home. A little figgerin' fixed this time at somewheres 'round five o'clock. Do you see?"
Mountjoy, very grave now, merely nodded.
"Hunter thought right off he'd found a clue. He opened the letter, an' o' course couldn't make head nor tail of it. He puzzled over it days when he'd ought to been asleep, an' nights when he'd ought to been attendin' to his work; an' at last he calls in his dago friend for a conference. Funny, warn't it?