“In the motor accident yesterday the man hurt was carrying an important secret document belonging to the Japanese navy department. He lost it. O’Neil and Marley, of whom you have heard me speak, were seen, by some of the bystanders, to pick up a letter resembling the one lost, but it was not the same. Last night I found this lost letter in a very peculiar way. I put it in my pocket intending to think over what I should do with it; but really my mind was made up to return it to its owners, the Japanese. Then came the excitement in the theatre. After that we went with Taki to the Maple Club, intending to make ourselves presentable and return to the ball. The secret letter was in the inside pocket of my coat.” Phil stopped, and Helen saw that his face was drawn and worried. “Taki had told me of the loss of this letter,” he continued, “and I had promised him that if it came into my hands I would give it to him.” Phil’s voice was self-accusing. “And he saw the letter in your pocket!” she exclaimed excitedly. Phil sighed. “It was worse than that. I lost the letter, or at least it was probably taken out of my pocket.” “Where? How on earth could that happen without your knowing it?” Helen’s eyes were opened wide in surprise. “With your coat on and also your cape?” “I don’t know.” Phil’s answer was in the most dejected tone. “The whole way in the motor to the club my hand was over my pocket. I was on the point on two or three occasions of taking the letter out and giving it to Taki then and there. My conscience hurt me terribly, for I had given my solemn promise and I knew I was breaking it. I told myself I was only waiting to frame a story, for I didn’t want to tell him then how I had gained possession of it. When we arrived at the club, several Japanese attendants took our capes and caps and we went to Taki’s rooms to tidy up. As I took off my coat I felt in my pocket for the envelope, intending to give it to him then. Taki had his back turned. I saw the document was not there and what I had supposed was it was only a fold in the lining of my coat.” “What did you do?” Helen asked breathlessly. “What could I do?” Phil asked hopelessly. “I was stupefied with surprise. Then I thought he knew and was inwardly laughing at me and instead of telling him of the loss, I became sullen and resentful. Takishima’s face was as unconcerned as ever. I knew mine was red, for my ears burned. He appeared to notice nothing unusual. Sydney seemed to see that something was wrong and blurted out, ‘What’s wrong, Phil?’ and I mumbled something incoherently and felt myself becoming more confused and mortified than ever.” “Do you believe Takishima really took the letter?” Helen asked anxiously. Her face showed the sympathy she felt.