“Oh, he did, did he?”
“Yes, he sent me this note, and——”
“Lemme see it.”
For a moment I fancied there would be a change in the atmosphere, now; but this idea was premature. The big man was examining the note searchingly under the gas-jet. A glance showed me that he had it upside down—disheartening evidence that he could not read.
“Is ut his own handwrite?”
“Yes—he wrote it himself.”
“He did, did he?”
“Yes.”