“Was that letter dropped by Dick Darke?”
“It was,” responds Woodley, to whom the question is addressed.
“Have patience, boys!” puts in the planter, who represents Justice Lynch; “don’t interrupt till we hear what’s in it.”
They take the hint, and remain silent.
But when the envelope is laid open, and a photograph drawn out, showing the portrait of a young lady, recognised by all as a likeness of Helen Armstrong, there is a fresh outburst of exclamations which betoken increased surprise; this stronger still, after Spence reads out the inscript upon the picture:
“Helen Armstrong—for him she loves.”
The letter is addressed to Charles Clancy; to him the photograph must have been sent. A love-affair between Miss Armstrong and the man who has been murdered! A new revelation to all—startling, as pertinent to the case.—
“Go on, Spence! Give us the contents of the letter!” demands an impatient voice.
“Yes, give them!” adds another. “I reckon we’re on the right track now.”
The epistle is taken out of the envelope. The schoolmaster, unfolding it, reads aloud:—