III The Man

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At last I slept, but it was only to rouse again with the same quick realisation of my surroundings, which I had experienced on my recovery from my fainting fit of hours before. Someone had stopped at our door before hurrying by down the hall. Who was that someone? I rose on my elbow, and endeavoured to peer through the dark. Of course, I could see nothing. But when I woke a second time, there was enough light in the room, early as it undoubtedly was, for me to detect a letter lying on the carpet just inside the door.

Instantly I was on my feet. Catching the letter up, I carried it to the window. Our two names were on it - Mr. and Mrs. George Anderson: the writing, Mr. Slater's.

I glanced over at George. He was sleeping peacefully. It was too early to wake him, but I could not lay that letter down unread; was not my name on it? Tearing it open, I devoured its contents, - the exclamation I made on reading it, waking George.

The writing was in Mr. Slater's hand, and the words were:

    "I must request, at the instance of Coroner Heath and such of
    the police as listened to your adventure, that you make no
    further mention of what you saw in the street under our windows
    last night. The doctors find no bullet in the wound. This
    clears Mr. Brotherson."