ity is full of just
such well dressed scoundrels; but the motive of the murder I can't
comprehend. But mark me--- this fellow has some knowledge of it; and we
must hunt him up. And, first, let us compare the letters."

Marcus handed the two letters to the lieutenant, who, with Overtop and
Maltboy, gave them a close examination. One was written on faint blue
paper in a buff envelope; the other on white paper in a white envelope.
Every curve, cross, and dot was minutely compared; but not the faintest
resemblance between the two letters could be discovered. "No more like
than chalk and cheese," said the lieutenant. "My theory is knocked on
the head."

"Let me examine the envelopes again," said Overtop. They had inspected
them less carefully than the contents.

As soon as Overtop had placed the two envelopes side by side, his eyes
lighted up with the pleasure of a great discovery. "What fools we are!"
he exclaimed. "There it is! Don't you see? Don't you see? A regular
Hogarthian line of beauty under the name on each."

All stared at the envelopes, and at once recognized the similarity
between the graceful curved lines. They looked somewhat like the letter
S laid on its side; and more like the arm of a rocking chair.

Marcus had a sudden inward vision of the writer. One of those
convictions which defy all logical analysis flashed upon his mind.

"Do you know where this strange young man lives, Bog?" asked Marcus.

"No, sir. I follered--I should say followed--him two or three times,
because I thought he wasn't acting just right toward Miss Minford (here
Bog blushed). He always went into drinking houses and billiard saloons,
and once into a place where they say the worst kind o' gambling is
allers--I mean always--going on. But he knew me by sight, and I was
afraid he would ask me about that letter which I didn't deliver for
him. So I had to follow him a good piece behind; and sometimes I lost
track of him. Then, again, he would keep a tramping round from one
drinking place to another--but never getting drunk that I could
see--till twelve or one o'clock at night. By that time I felt I ought to
go home, and so I never tracked him to his lodgings, if he has any. But
it's my belief he travels in the night, and sleeps in the daytime, like
the cats."

"Good, so far," said Marcus. "You have already given us a general
description of this fellow's dress and appearance. Now, tell me whether
his face is pale, his mustache small