The Leavenworth Case By Anna K. Green - Chapters 22

Welcome to Restful Journeys.

In this track I will be reading chapter 22 from the story The Leavenworth Case by Anna Catherine Green.

Please find a comfortable place to sit or lie down and relax.

Take a few moments to clear your mind and allow yourself to listen to these words.

Let's continue with chapter 22,

Patchwork.

Come,

Give us a taste of your quality.

Hamlet.

Starting with the assumption that Mr.

Clavering and his conversation of the morning had been given to me with more or less accuracy.

A detailed account of his own experience and position regarding Eleanor Leavenworth.

I asked myself what particular facts it would be necessary for me to establish in order to prove the truth of this assumption and found them to be,

One,

That Clavering had not only been in this country at the time designated but that he had been located for some little time at a watering place in New York State.

Two,

That this watering place should correspond to one in which Miss Eleanor Leavenworth was staying at the time.

Three,

That they had been seen while there to hold more or less communication.

Four,

That they had been both absent from town at some one time,

Long enough to have gone through the ceremony of marriage at a point 20 miles or so away.

Five,

That a Methodist clergyman who has since died lived at that time within a radius of 20 miles of said watering place.

I next asked myself how I was to establish these facts.

Mr.

Clavering's life was a yet too little known to me to offer me any assistance.

So,

Leaving it for the present,

I took up the thread of Eleanor's history and found that at the time given me she had been in R,

A fashionable watering place in this state.

Now,

If his was true and my theory correct,

He must have been there also.

To prove this fact became,

Consequently,

My first business.

I resolved to go to R on the morrow.

But before proceeding in an undertaking of such importance,

I considered it expedient to make such inquiries and collect such facts as the few hours I had left to work and rendered possible.

I went first for the house of Mr.

Grice.

I found him lying upon a hard sofa in the sitting room I have before mentioned,

Suffering from a severe attack of rheumatism.

His hands were done up in bandages and his feet encased in multiplied folds of a dingy red shawl which looked as if it had been through the wars.

Greeting me with a short nod that was both a welcome and an apology,

He devoted a few words to an explanation of his unwanted position and then,

Without further preliminaries,

Rushed into the subject which was uppermost in both our minds by inquiring,

In a slightly sarcastic way,

If I was very much surprised to find my bird flown when I returned to the Hoffman house that afternoon.

I was astonished to find you allowed him to fly at this time.

I replied,

From the manner in which you requested me to make his acquaintance.

I suppose you considered him an important character in the tragedy which has just been enacted.

And what makes you think I don't?

Oh,

The fact that I let him go off so easily?

That's no proof.

I never fiddle with brakes till the car starts downhill.

But let that pass for the present.

Mr.

Clavering,

Then,

Did not explain himself before going.

That is a question I find exceedingly difficult to answer.

Hampered by circumstances,

I cannot at present speak with the directness which is your due.

But what I can say,

I will.

Know,

Then,

That in my opinion Mr.

Clavering did explain himself in an interview with me this morning,

But it was done in so blind a way.

It will be necessary for me to make a few investigations before I shall feel sufficiently sure of my ground to take to you in my confidence.

He has given me a possible clue.

Wait,

Said Mr.

Grice.

Does he know this?

Was it done intentionally and with sinister motive or unconsciously and in plain good faith?

And good faith,

I should say.

Mr.

Grice remained silent for a moment.

It is very unfortunate you cannot explain yourself a little more definitely,

He said at last.

I am almost afraid to trust you to make investigations,

As you call them,

On your own hook.

You are not used to the business and will lose time to say nothing of running upon false sense and using up your strength on unprofitable details.

You should have thought of that when you admitted me into your partnership.

And you absolutely insist upon working this mine alone?

Mr.

Grice,

The matter stands just here.

Mr.

Clavering,

For all I know,

Is a gentleman of untarnished reputation.

I'm not even aware for what purpose you set me upon this trail.

I only know that in thus following it I have come upon certain facts that seem worthy of further investigation.

Well,

Well,

You know best.

But the days are slipping by.

Something must be done.

And soon.

The public are becoming clamorous.

I know it.

And for that reason I have come to you for such assistance as you can give me at this stage of proceedings.

You are possessing of certain facts relating to this man,

Which it concerns me to know.

For your conduct in reference to him has been purposeless.

Now,

Frankly,

Will you make me a master of those facts?

In short,

Tell me all you know of Mr.

Clavering without requiring an immediate return of confidence on my part?

That is asking a great deal of a professional detective.

I know it.

And under other circumstances I should hesitate long before preferring such a request.

But,

As things are,

I don't see how I'm to proceed in the matter without some such concession on your part.

At all events,

Wait a moment,

Is not Mr.

Clavering the lover of one of the young ladies?

Anxious as I was to preserve the secret of my interest in that gentleman,

I could not prevent the blush from rising to my face at the suddenness of this question.

I thought as much.

He went on.

Being neither a relative nor acknowledged friend,

I took it for granted he must occupy some such position as that in the family.

I did not see why you should draw such an inference,

Said I,

Anxious to determine how much he knew about him.

Mr.

Clavering is a stranger in town,

Has not even been in this country long,

Has indeed had no time to establish himself upon any such footing as you suggest.

This is not the only time Mr.

Clavering has been in New York.

He was here a year ago,

To my certain knowledge.

You know that?

Yes.

How much more do you know?

Can it be possible I'm groping blindly about for facts which are already in your possession?

I pray you listen to my entreaties,

Mr.

Grice,

And acquaint me at once with what I want to know.

You will not regret it.

I have no selfish motive in this matter.

If I succeed,

The glory shall be yours.

If I fail,

The shame of the defeat shall be mine.

That is fair,

He muttered,

And how about the reward?

My reward will be to free an innocent woman from the imputation of crime which hangs over her.

This assurance seemed to satisfy him.

His voice and appearance changed.

For a looked quite confidential.

Well,

Well,

Said he.

And what is it you want to know?

I should first like to know how your suspicions came to light on him at all.

What reason had you for thinking a gentleman of his bearing and position was in any way connected with this affair?

That is a question you ought not to be obliged to put,

He returned.

How so?

Simply because the opportunity of answering it was in your hands before ever it came into mine.

What do you mean?

Don't you remember the letter mailed in your presence by Miss Mary Leavenworth during your drive from her home to that of her friend in 37th Street on the afternoon of the inquest?

Yes.

Certainly.

But you never thought to look at its superscription before it was dropped into the box.

I had neither opportunity nor right to do so.

Was it not written in your presence?

It was.

And you never regarded the affair as worth your attention.

However I may have regarded it,

I do not see how I could prevent Miss Leavenworth from dropping a letter into a box if she chose to do so.

That is because you are a gentleman.

Well,

It has its disadvantages,

He muttered broadly.

But you,

Said I,

How came you to know anything of this letter?

Ah,

I see.

Remembering that the carriage in which we were riding at the time had been procured for us by him.

The man on the box was in your pay and informed,

As you call it.

Mr.

Grice winked at his muffled toes mysteriously.

That is not the point,

He said.

Enough that I heard that a letter,

Which might reasonably prove to be some interest to me,

Had been dropped at such an hour into the box on the corner of a certain street.

That,

Coinciding in my opinion of my informant,

I telegraphed to the station connected with that box to take note of the address of a suspicious-looking letter about to be passed through their hands on the way to the General Post Office,

And following up the telegram in person,

Found that a curious epistle addressed in lead pencil and sealed with a stamp had just arrived,

The address of which I was allowed to see.

And which was?

Henry R.

Clavering,

Hoffman House,

New York.

I drew a deep breath.

And so that is how your attention first came to be directed to this man?

Yes.

Strange.

But go on.

What next?

Why,

Next I followed up the clue by going to the Hoffman House and instituting inquiries.

I learned that Mr.

Clavering was a regular guest of the hotel,

That he had come there direct from the Liverpool Steamer about three months since,

And registering his name as Henry R.

Clavering,

Esquire,

London,

Had engaged a first-class room which he had kept ever since.

That,

Although nothing definite was known concerning him,

He had been seen with various highly respectable people,

Both of his own nation and ours,

By all of whom he was treated with respect.

And lastly,

That while not liberal,

He had given many evidences of being a man of means.

So much done,

I entered the office and waited for him to come in,

In the hope of having a opportunity to observe his manner when the clerk handed him that strange-looking letter from Mary Leavenworth.

And did you succeed?

No.

An awkward gawk of a fellow stepped between us just at the critical moment and shut off my view.

But I heard enough that evening from the clerk and servants of the agitation he had shown on receiving it,

To convince me I was upon a trail worth following.

I accordingly put on my men,

And for two days Mr.

Clavering was subjected to the most rigid watch a man ever walked under.

But nothing was gained by it.

His interest in the murder,

If interest at all,

Was a secret one.

And though we walked the streets,

Studied the papers,

And haunted the vicinity of the house in Fifth Avenue,

He not only refrained from actually approaching it,

But made no attempt to communicate with any of the family.

Meanwhile,

You crossed my path,

And with your determination incited me to renewed effort.

Convinced of Mr.

Clavering's bearing and the gossip I had by this time gathered in regard to him,

That no one short of a gentleman and a friend could succeed in getting at the clue of his connection with this family,

I handed him over to you,

And found me an unimaginable colleague.

Mr.

Grice smiled very much as if a sour plum had been put in his mouth,

But made no reply,

And a momentary pause ensued.

Did you think to inquire?

I asked at last.

If anyone knew where Mr.

Clavering had spent the evening of the murder?

Yes,

But with no good result.

It was agreed he went out during the evening,

Also that he was in his bed in the morning,

When the servant came to make his fire.

But further than this,

No one seemed posted.

So that,

In fact,

You gleaned nothing that would in any way connect this man with the murder,

Except his marked and agitated interest in it,

And the fact that a niece of the murdered man had written a letter to him?

That is all.

Another question.

Did you hear in what manner and at what time he procured a newspaper that evening?

No.

I only learned that he observed,

By more than one,

To hasten out of the dining room with the post in his hand,

And go immediately to his room without touching his dinner.

That does not look.

If Mr.

Clavering had had a guilty knowledge of the crime,

He would either have ordered dinner before opening the paper,

Or,

Having ordered it,

He would have eaten it.

Then,

You do not believe,

From what you have learned,

That Mr.

Clavering is the guilty party?

Mr.

Grice shifted uneasily,

Glanced at the papers protruding from my coat pocket,

And exclaimed,

I am ready to be convinced by you that he is.

That sentence recalled me to the business in hand.

Without appearing to notice his look,

I recurred to my questions.

How came you to know that Mr.

Clavering was in this city last summer?

Did you learn that too at the Hoffman house?

No.

I ascertained that in quite another way.

In short,

I have had a communication from London in regard to the matter.

From London?

Yes.

I have a friend there,

In my own line of business,

Who sometimes assists me with a bit of information when requested.

But how?

You have had not the time to write to London,

And receive an answer since the murder.

It is not necessary to write.

It is enough for me to telegraph him the name of a person,

From him to understand that I want to know everything he can gather in a reasonable length of time about that person.

And you sent the name of Mr.

Clavering to him?

Yes,

In cipher.

And have received a reply?

This morning.

I looked towards his desk.

It is not there,

He said.

If you will be kind enough to fill my breast pocket,

You will find a letter.

It was in my hand before he finished his sentence.

Excuse my eagerness,

I said.

This kind of business is new to me,

You know.

He smiled indulgently at a very old and faded picture hanging on the wall before him.

Eagerness is not a fault,

Only the betrayal of it.

But read out what you have there.

Let us hear what my friend Brown has to tell us of Henry Ritchie Clavering,

Of Portland Place,

London.

I took the paper to the light,

And read as follows.

Henry Ritchie Clavering.

Gentleman.

Aged 43.

Born in Hertfordshire,

England.

His father was Chas Clavering.

For short time in the army.

Mother was Helen Ritchie,

Of Dumfriesshire,

Scotland.

She is still living.

Home with HRC,

In Portland Place,

London.

HRC is a bachelor.

Six foot high.

Squarely built.

Weight about 12 stone.

Dark complexion.

Regular features.

Eyes dark brown.

Nose straight.

Called a handsome man.

Walks erect and rapidly.

In society,

Is considered a good fellow.

Rather a favorite.

Especially with ladies.

Is liberal.

Not extravagant.

Reported to be worth about 5,

000 pounds per year.

And appearances give color to this statement.

Property consists of a small estate in Hertfordshire,

And some funds.

Amount not known.

Since writing this much,

A correspondent sends the following in regard to his history.

In 46,

Went from uncle's house to Etton.

From Etton,

Went to Oxford.

Graduating in 56.

Scholarship good.

In 1855,

His uncle died,

And his father succeeded to the estates.

Father died in 57,

By a fall from his horse,

Or a similar accident.

Within a very short time,

HRC took his mother to London,

To the residence named,

Where they lived to the present time.

Travelled considerably in 1860.

Part of the time was with,

Blank blank,

Of Munich.

Also in party of,

Vindervorts from New York.

Went as far east as Cairo.

Went to America in 1875,

Alone.

But at the end of three months,

Returned on accounts of mother's illness.

Nothing is known of his movements while in America.

From servants,

Learned that he was always a favorite from a boy.

More recently,

Has become somewhat taciturn.

Toward the last of his stay,

Watched the post carefully.

Especially foreign ones.

Posted scarcely anything but newspapers.

Has written to Munich,

Have seen,

From waste paper basket,

Torn envelope,

Directed to Amy Belden.

No address.

American correspondents,

Mostly in Boston.

Two in New York.

Names not known,

But supposed to be bankers.

Brought home considerable luggage,

And fitted up part of house,

As for a lady.

This was closed soon afterwards.

Left for America two months since.

Has been,

I understand,

Traveling in the south.

Has telegraphed twice to Portland Place.

His friends hear from him rarely.

Letters received recently.

Posted in New York.

One by last steamer.

Posted in F,

New York.

Business here conducted by,

Blank,

In the country of,

Blank,

Of,

Blank.

Has charge of the property.

Brown.

The document fell from my hands.

F,

New York,

Was a small town near R.

Your friend is a Trump,

I declared.

He tells me just what I wanted most to know.

And,

Taking out my book,

I made memoranda of the facts which had most forcibly struck me during my perusal of the communication before me.

With the aid of what he tells me,

I shall ferret out the mystery of Henry Clavering in a week.

See if I do not.

And how soon,

Inquired Mr.

Grice.

May I expect to be allowed to take a hand in the game?

As soon as I am reasonably assured I am upon the right track.

And what will it take to assure you of that?

Not much.

A certain point settled.

And,

Hold on.

Who knows but what I can do for you?

And,

Looking towards the desk,

Which stood in the corner,

Mr.

Grice asked me if I would be kind enough to open the top drawer,

And bring him the bits of a partly burnt paper I would find there.

Hastily complying,

I brought three or four strips of ragged paper and laid them on the table at his side.

Another result of Fobb's researches under the coal of the first day of the inquest.

Mr.

Grice abruptly explained.

You thought the key was all he found.

Well,

It wasn't.

A second turning over the coals brought these to light,

And very interesting they are too.

I immediately bent over the torn and discovered scraps with great anxiety.

They were four in number,

And appeared at first glance to be the mere remnants of a sheet of common writing paper,

Torn lengthwise into strips and twisted up into lighters.

But,

Upon closer inspection,

They showed me traces of writing upon one side,

And,

What was more important still,

The presence of one or more drops of spattered blood.

This latter discovery was horrible to me,

And so overcame me for the moment that I put the scraps down and,

Turning towards Mr.

Grice,

Inquired,

What do you make of them?

That is just the question I was going to put to you.

Swallowing my disgust,

I took them up again.

They look like the remnants of some old letter,

Said I.

They have that appearance,

Mr.

Grice grimly assented.

A letter which,

From the drop of blood observable on the written side,

Must have been lying face up on Mr.

Leavenworth's table at the time of the murder?

Just so.

And from the uniformity and width of each of these pieces,

As well as their tendency to curl up when left alone,

Must first have been torn into even strips,

And then several rolled up,

Before being tossed into the grate,

Where they were afterwards found.

That is all good,

Said Mr.

Grice.

Go on.

The writing,

So far as discernible,

Is that of a cultivated gentleman.

It is not that of Mr.

Leavenworth,

For I have studied his chronography,

Too,

Much lately.

Not to know it at a glance,

But it may be— Hold!

I suddenly exclaimed.

Have you any mucilage handy?

I think,

If I could paste these strips down upon a piece of paper,

That they would remain flat.

I should be able to tell you what I think of them much more easily.

There is mucilage on the desk,

Signified Mr.

Grice.

Procuring it,

I proceeded to consult the scraps once more for evidence.

To guide me in their arrangement,

There were more marked than I expected.

The longer and best-preserved strip,

With its Mr.

Hoar at the top,

Showing itself at first blush,

To be the left-handed margin of the letter,

While the machine-cut edge of the next in length presented tokens fully as conclusive of its being the right-hand margin of the same.

Selecting these,

Then,

I pasted them down on a piece of paper,

At just the distance they would occupy if the sheet from which they were torn was of the ordinary commercial note size.

Immediately it became apparent,

First,

That it would take two other strips of the same width to fill up the space left between them,

And,

Secondly,

That the writing did not terminate at the foot of the sheet,

But was carried on to another page.

Taking up the third strip,

I looked at its edge.

It was machine-cut at the top,

And showed,

By the arrangement of its words,

That it was the top margin of the second leaf.

Pasting that down by itself,

I scrutinized the fourth,

And,

Finding it also machine-cut at the top,

But not on the side,

Endeavored to fit it to the piece already pasted down,

But the words would not match.

Moving it along to the position it would hold if it were the third strip,

I fastened it down,

The whole presenting,

When completed,

The appearance seen on the page.

"'Well,

' exclaimed Mr.

Grice,

"'that's business.

' Then,

As I held it up before his eyes,

"'But don't show it to me.

Study it yourself,

And tell me what you think.

' "'Well,

' said I,

"'this much is certain,

That it is a letter directed to Mr.

Leavenworth from some house,

And dated,

Let's see,

That is an H,

Isn't it?

' And I pointed to the one letter,

Just discernible on the line under the word house.

"'I should think so,

But don't ask.

It must be an H.

The year is 1875,

And this is not the termination of either January or February,

Dated then March 1st,

1876,

And signed,

' Mr.

Grice rolled his eyes in anticipatory ecstasy towards the ceiling.

"'By Henry Clavering,

' I announced without hesitation.

Mr.

Grice's eyes returned to his swathed finger-ends.

"'Hm,

How do you know that?

Wait a moment,

And I'll show you.

' And,

Taking out of my pocket the card which Mr.

Clavering had handed me as an introduction at our late interview,

I laid it underneath the last line of writing on the second page.

"'One glance was sufficient.

Henry Ritchie Clavering,

On the card.

H-blank-blank-C-H-I-E-blank-blank,

In the same handwriting on the letter.

"'Clavering it is,

' said he.

"'Without a doubt.

' But I saw he was not surprised.

"'And now,

' I continued,

For its general tenor and meaning,

And,

Commencing at the beginning,

I read aloud the words as they came,

With pauses at breaks,

Something as follows.

"'Mr.

Poor.

Dear.

Blank.

A niece whom you.

Blank.

One to who see.

Blank.

The love and trust.

Blank.

Any other man.

C-A.

Blank.

Beautiful.

So care.

Blank.

She in face for.

Blank.

Conversation.

Every rose has its.

Blank.

Rose is no exception.

A-lee.

As she is.

Car.

Blank.

Tender.

As she is.

Palpable of tramplin.

Blank.

One who trusted.

Blank heart.

Blank.

Blank him.

To blank.

He owes a.

Blank.

Honor.

Ants.

If.

Blank.

Believe.

Blank.

Her to.

Blank.

Cruel.

Blank.

Face.

Blank.

What is.

Blankable.

Serve.

Blank.

Yours.

H.

Blank.

Blank.

T-C-H-I-E.

' "'It reads like a complaint against one of Mr.

Leavenworth's nieces,

' I said,

And started at my own words.

"'What is it?

' cried Mr.

Leavenworth.

"'What is the matter?

' "'Why?

' said I.

"'The fact is,

I have heard this very letter spoken of.

It is a complaint against one of Mr.

Leavenworth's nieces,

And was written by Mr.

Clavering.

' And I told him of Mr.

Harwell's communication in regard to the matter.

"'Ah,

Then Mr.

Harwell has been talking,

Has he?

I thought he had foresworn gossip.

Mr.

Harwell and I have seen each other almost daily for the last two weeks,

' I replied.

It would be strange if he had nothing to tell me.

"'And he says he had read a letter written to Mr.

Leavenworth by Mr.

Clavering?

' "'Yes,

But the particular words of which he has now forgotten.

These few here may assist him in recalling the rest.

I would rather not admit to him to a knowledge of this existence of this piece of evidence.

I don't believe in letting anyone into our confidence whom we can consciously keep out.

' "'I see you don't,

' dryly responded Mr.

Grice.

Not appearing to notice the fling conveyed by these words,

I took up the letter once more and began pointing out such half-formed words in it as I thought we might venture to complete.

As the foreblank,

Yoblank,

Cblank,

Utifulblank,

Harblank,

Foreblank,

Tramplinblank,

Pblblank,

Servblank.

This done,

I next proposed the introduction of such others as seemed necessary to this sense.

As Leavenworth after Horatio,

Sir after Dear,

Have with a possible You before a niece,

Thorn after It's in the phrase Rose has It's,

On after Trampling,

Whom after To,

Debt after A,

You after If,

Me ask after Believe,

Beautiful after Cruel.

Between the two columns of words,

Thus furnished,

I interposed a phrase or two here and there.

The whole reading upon its completion as follows.

Blank House.

March 1st,

1876.

Mr.

Horatio Leavenworth.

Dear Sir,

You have a niece,

Whom you,

One too,

Who seems worthy,

The love and trust of another man,

Can so beautiful,

So charming,

Is she in face form and conversation,

But every rose has its thorn,

And this rose is no exception.

Lovely as she is,

Charming as she is,

Tender as she is,

She is capable of trampling on one who trusted her heart.

A.

Him to whom she owes a debt of honor.

If you don't believe me,

Ask her,

To her cruel beautiful face,

What is her humble servant yours?

Henry Ritchie Clavering.

I think that will do,

Said Mr.

Grice.

Its general tenor is evident,

And that is all we want at this time.

The whole tone of it is anything but complimentary to the lady it mentions,

I remarked.

He must have had,

Or imagined he had,

Some desperate grievance to provoke him to the use of such plain language in regard to one he can still characterize as tender,

Charming,

Beautiful.

Grievances are apt to lie back of mysterious crimes.

I think I know what this one was,

I said,

But,

Seeing him look up,

Must decline to communicate my suspicion to you for the present.

My theory stands unshaken,

And in some degree confirmed,

And that is all I can say.

Then this letter does not supply the link you wanted?

No,

It is a valuable piece of evidence,

But it is not the link I am in search of just now.

Yet it must be an important clue,

Or Eleanor Leavenworth would not have been to such pains,

First to take it in the way she did from her uncle's table,

And secondly,

Wait,

What makes you think this is the paper she took,

Or was believed to have taken from Mr.

Leavenworth's table on that fatal morning?

Why,

The fact that it was found together with the key,

Which we know she dropped into the grate,

And that there are drops of blood on it.

I shook my head.

Why do you shake your head?

Asked Mr.

Grice.

Because I am not satisfied with your reason for believing this to be the paper taken by her from Mr.

Leavenworth's table.

And why?

Well,

First,

Because Fobbes does not speak of seeing any paper in her hand when she bent over the fire,

Leaving us to conclude that these pieces were in the scuttle of coal she threw upon it,

Which surely you must acknowledge to be a strange place for her to have put a paper she took such pains to gain possession of,

And secondly,

For the reason that these scraps were twisted as if they had been used for curl papers,

Or something of that kind,

A fact hard to explain by your hypothesis.

" The detective's eye stole in the direction of my necktie,

Which was as near as he had ever come to a face.

"'You are a bright one,

' said he.

A very bright one.

I quite admire you,

Mr.

Raymond.

" A little surprised,

And not altogether pleased with this unexpected compliment,

I regarded him doubtfully for a moment,

And then asked,

"'What is your opinion on the matter?

' Oh,

You know I have no opinion.

I gave up everything of that kind when I put the affair into your hands.

Still,

That the letter of which these scraps are the remnant was on Mr.

Leavenworth's table at the time of the murder is believed,

That upon the body being removed,

A paper was taken from the table by Miss Eleanor Leavenworth,

Is also believed,

That,

When she found her action had been noticed,

In attention called to this paper and key,

She resorted to subterfuge in order to escape the vigilance of the watch that had been set over her,

And particularly,

Succeeding in her endeavor,

Flung the key into the fire from which these same scraps were afterwards recovered,

Is also known.

The conclusion I leave to your judgment.

" "'Very well,

Then,

' said I,

Rising.

"'We will let conclusions go for the present.

My mind must be satisfied in regard to the truth or falsity of a certain theory of mine,

For my judgment to be worth much on this,

Or any other matter connected with the affair,

And,

Only waiting to get the address of his subordinate,

P.

,

In case I should need assistance in my investigations,

' I left Mr.

Grice and proceeded immediately to the house of Mr.

V.

Lee.

" That concludes Chapter 22,

Patchwork,

From the Story,

The Leavenworth Case,

By Anna Catherine Green Thank you so much for listening to this story.

I greatly appreciate it.

I do hope you have become relaxed and possibly fallen asleep.