Darrell smoothed it flat and then read in a woman’s fine chirography:
“—we will hope for the best. At any rate, fair Lillian, your secret shall never be betrayed by your sincere friend, Barbara.
“P.S. Be sure and burn this. B.”
“What do you think of that?” asked Joe. “It has a peculiar look. One thing is certain—Lillian made a mistake—she did not burn it up.”
“But tore it to pieces instead.”
“You found it in your library?”
“Yes.”
“Is there a waste paper basket there?”
“Yes, but we throw papers in the grate and when they accumulate touch a match to them.”
“Perhaps you might find the balance of this letter.”
“In the grate?”