"Well, sir, he looked angry like, and put his coat and hat on, and walked out about five minutes to one."
"Ah! and he met Whyte at one," muttered Calton. "There's no doubt about it. The letter was an appointment, and he was going to keep it. What kind of a letter was it?" he asked.
"Very dirty, sir, in a square envelope; but the paper was good, and so was the writing."
"That will do," said Calton; "I am much obliged to you," and he hurried down to where Madge awaited him in the cab.
"You were right," he said to her, when the cab was once more in motion. "He got a letter on that night, and went to keep his appointment at the time he met Whyte."
"I knew it," cried Madge with delight. "You see, we will find it in his lodgings."
"I hope so," answered Calton; "but we must not be too sanguine; he may have destroyed it."
"No, he has not," she replied. "I am convinced it is there."
"Well," answered Calton, looking at her, "I don't contradict you, for your feminine instincts have done more to discover the truth than my reasonings; but that is often the case with women—they jump in the dark where a man would hesitate, and in nine cases out of ten land safely."
"Alas for the tenth!" said Miss Frettlby. "She has to be the one exception to prove the rule."