“Is that it?” inquired Mr Barnacle, showing me an envelope addressed to Hawkesbury.
“No, that is not the handwriting I believe to be his.”
“Is that?” showing another.
“No.”
“Is that?” This time it was the envelope I had already recognised.
“Yes, that is it.”
“How are you able to recognise it?”
“By this,” said I, producing the letter to Mary Smith from my pocket. The handwriting on the two envelopes was compared and found to be alike, and further to correspond with a signature at the back of the cheque. The clerk, it seemed, being a little doubtful of the person who presented the cheque, had required him to write his name on the back; and the fictitious signature “A. Robinson” was accordingly given in Masham’s hand.
“That seems clear,” said the detective.
“I see,” said Mr Barnacle, looking again at the envelope I had given him, “this letter is addressed to the place where Smith lives. Is Masham a friend of Smith or his family?”