soon as busy among the fragments of paper as though they were rag-pickers.
"'Opin' they ain't orf their 'eads," murmured Mrs. Sampson, as she went to the door, "but it looks like it, they bein'—
Suddenly a cry broke from Madge, as she drew out of the mass of paper a half-burnt letter, written on thick and creamy-looking paper.
"At last," she cried, rising off her knees, and smoothing it out, "I knew he had not destroyed it."
"Pretty nearly, however," said Calton, as his eye glanced rapidly over it; "it's almost useless as it is, seeing there's no name to it."
He took it over to the window and spread it out upon the table. It was dirty, and half burnt, but still it was a clue. The above is fac simile of the letter.
"There's not much to be gained from that, I'm afraid," said Madge, sadly. "It shows he had an appointment—but where?"
Calton did not answer, but leaning his head on his hands, stared hard at the paper. At last he jumped up with a cry—
"I have it," he said, in an excited tone. "Look at that
