"Then we will look together. In such a case as this, one never knows what 'trifles light as air' may prove 'confirmation strong as Holy Writ' Here's a waste-paper basket; let's see what's in it. More than one man has been sent to the gallows by a scrap of waste-paper. Here's what appears to be a letter—not too carefully written. Let's see what we can make of it. Hullo! what's this?" He read from the scrap of paper he was holding: "‘Such men as you ought not to be allowed to live.' That's a strong assertion. And written by a woman, too, in a good, bold hand. I think I should recognise that caligraphy if I saw it again; wouldn't you?"
He handed me the fragment. The clear, characteristic writing was certainly a woman's. I felt that I should know it again if I saw it. The words were as he had stated them. He went on.
"If the intention of the person who tore up this letter was to conceal its purport, he did his work with very little skill. Here's another fragment which is plain enough. 'To-night I will give you a last chance.' To-night! I wonder if that was yesternight? If so he had his last chance—his very last. Here, on still another piece, is part of a signature. 'Bessie.' It certainly is Bessie. I know a Bessie." He smiled, not too pleasantly. "I wonder if—it's scarcely likely,
