The servant had entered the room and stood near the door with his eyes riveted upon the young girl.
When she spoke his name he came forward and extended his hand.
"I picked this up in the hall just now. It's a curious bit of paper, part of a letter."
Nora took the find and glanced at it, then handed it to the Quaker man-hunter.
Old Broadbrim looked at it, going over to the desk where the droplight swung.
"Tell the people in the parlor that they can go now, Simpson," said Nora. "The police will be here in a little while. The detective is already here."
Old Broadbrim looked up at Nora as Simpson left the room, and his look drew her toward him.
"Is it anything?" she asked.
The detective still held the bit of paper in his hand.
"It may not be of any use," said he, slightly elevating the paper. "Some one of the people out there may have dropped it."