On to page three, he told himself. Drawings again, both on that page and on the one facing it. Malone recognized an outboard motor, a store-front, a suit of clothing hanging neatly on a hanger, a motor scooter, a shotgun and an IBM Electrotyper. Whoever had done the work was a reasonably accurate artist, if untrained; the various items were easily recognizable and Malone could see a great deal of detail.
That, of course, was fine. Only it made no more sense than the rest of the notebook.
Malone riffled through a few more pages, trying to make sense of the contents. One page seemed to be a shopping list, with nothing more revealing on it than bread, bacon, eggs (½ doz.), peaches (frz.), cigs., & ltr., fluid.
There was another list, farther on. This one said: Hist. 2, Eng. 4, Math. 3, Span. 2. What for Elec.?
That cast the first glow of light. Whoever owned the notebook was a student. Or a teacher, Malone
thought; then, looking back at the handwriting, he decided that the owner of the notebook had to be in high school, certainly no farther along.
He went on flipping pages. One of them said, in large black capitals: HE'S BLUFFING!
A note passed in class? There was not any way of making sure.
Malone thought about the hypothetical student for a minute. Then something in the riffling pages caught his eye.