is right, what you want to do when
you get back home is to rush over to Mrs. Canterby's and ask to borrow
a book, and look on page fourteen."

"And then come back and tell you what it says?" asked Miss Petunia.

"Just so!" said Philo Gubb.

Miss Petunia arose with a simper, and Mr. Gubb arose to open the door
for her. He felt particularly gracious. Never in his career had he
been able to apply the inductive system before, and he was well
pleased with himself. His somewhat melancholy eyes almost beamed on
Miss Petunia, and he felt a warm glow in his heart for the poor little
thing who had come to him in her trouble. As he stood waiting for Miss
Scroggs to gather up her feather boa and her parasol and her black
hand-bag, he felt the dangerous pity of the strong for the weak.

Miss Petunia held out her hand with a pretty gesture. She was fully
forty-five, but she was kittenish for her age. There was something
almost girlish in her manner, and the long, dancing brown curls that
hung below her very youthful hat added to the effect. When she had
shaken Mr. Gubb's hand she half-skipped, half-minced out of his
office.

"An admirable creature," said Mr. Gubb to himself, and he turned to
his microscope and began to study the ink of the letters under that
instrument. His next work must be to find the identical ink and the
identical writing-paper. He had no doubt he would find them in Mrs.
Canterby's home. The ink was a pale blue in places, deepening to a
strong blue in other places, with grainy blue specks. He decided,
rightly, that this "ink" had been made of laundry blue. The paper was
plain note-paper, glossy of surface and with blue lines, and, in the
upper left corner, the maker's impress. This was composed of three
feathers with the word "Excellent" beneath. The envelopes were of the
proper size to receive the letters. They bore an unmistakable odor of
toilet soap and chewing-gum.

"Dusenberry!" said Mr. Gubb, and smiled.

Hod Dusenberry kept a small store near the home of Mrs. Canterby.
There seemed no doubt that the coils of the investigation were
tightening around Mrs. Canterby, and Mr. Gubb put on his hat and went
out. He went to Hod Dusenberry's store. Mr. Dusenberry sat behind the
counter.

"I came in," said Mr. Gubb, "to purchase a bottle of ink off of you."

"There, now!" said Mr. Dusenberry self-accusingly. "That's the third
call for ink I've had in less'n two months. I been meanin' to lay in
more ink r