We are on
the track of something."

I have the letter before me now. It is written on glazed paper, ruled
with blue lines. The writing is of the flowing style we used to call
Spencerian, and if it lacks character I am inclined to believe that its
weakness is merely the result of infrequent use of a pen.

You know who this is from. I have the bag and the letters. In a safe
place. If you would treat me like a human being, you could have them. I
know where the walking-stick is, also. I will tell you this. I have no
wish to do her any harm. She will have to pay up in the next world, even
if she gets off in this. The way I reason is this: As long as I have the
things, I've got the whiphand. I've got you, too, although you may think
I haven't.

About the other matter I was innocent. I swear it again. I never did it.
You are the only one in all the world. I would rather be dead than go on
like this.

It is unsigned.

I stared from the letter to Mrs. Dane. She was watching me, her face
grave and rather sad.

"You and I, Horace," she said, "live our orderly lives. We eat, and
sleep, and talk, and even labor. We think we are living. But for the
last day or two I have been seeing visions--you and I and the rest of
us, living on the surface, and underneath, carefully kept down so
it will not make us uncomfortable, a world of passion and crime and
violence and suffering. That letter is a tragedy."

But if she had any suspicion then as to the writer, and I think she had
not, she said nothing, and soon after I started for home. I knew that
one of two things would have happened there: either my wife would have
put away the fire-tongs, which would indicate a truce, or they would
remain as they had been, which would indicate that she still waited
for the explanation I could not give. It was with a certain tension,
therefore, that I opened my front door.

The fire-tongs still stood in the stand.

In one way, however, Mrs. Johnson's refusal to speak to me that evening
had a certain value, for it enabled me to leave the house without
explanation, and thus to discover that, if an overcoat had been left in
place of my own, it had been taken away. It also gave me an opportunity
to return the fire-tongs, a proceeding which I had considered would
assist in a return of the entente cordiale at home, but which most
unjustly appeared to have exactly the opposite effect. It has been
my experience that the most innocent action may, under