"I may as well leave Dick to his own devices," he muttered, "but I'll send for Vernet. He has kept shy enough of the office of late, but I know where to put my hand on him." As he reached out to touch the bell, some one tapped upon the door. "Come in," he called, somewhat impatiently. It was the office-boy who entered and presented a card to the Chief. "The gentleman is waiting?" queried the Chief, glancing at the name upon the bit of pasteboard. "Yes, sir." "Admit him." Then he rose and stood to receive his visitor. "Ah, Follingsbee, I'm glad it's you," extending his hand cordially. "Sit down, sit down." And he pushed his guest toward a big easy chair just opposite his own. The little lawyer responded warmly to his friendly greeting, established himself comfortably in the chair indicated, and resting a hand upon either knee, smiled as he glanced about him. "You seem pretty comfortable here," he said, as his eye roved about the well-equipped private office. "Are you particularly busy just now?" "I can be quite idle," smiling slightly, "if you want a little of my leisure." The attorney gave a short, dry laugh. "Do you talk at everybody over the top rail of a fence?" he asked. "I thought that belonged to us lawyers. The fact is that although this is not strictly a social call, it's a call of minor importance. If you have business on hand, I can wait your leisure." The Chief leaned back in his chair and smiled across at his visitor. "I don't suppose you or I can ever be said to be free from business," he responded. "I was just growing weary of my bit of mental labor; your interruption is quite welcome, even if it is not 'strictly social.' You are anxious to make an informal inquiry about the search for the lost child, I presume?" "I should be glad to hear anything upon that subject, but that is not my errand." "Ah!" The Chief rested his head upon his hand, and looked inquiringly at his _vis-a-vis_. "I wanted," said Mr. Follingsbee, taking out a huge pocket-book and deftly abstracting from it a folded envelope, "to show you a document, and ask you a question. This," unfolding the envelope, "is the document." He smoothed it carefully and handed it to the other, who glanced over it blankly at first, then looked closer and with an expression of surprise. "Did you write that letter?" queried Mr. Follingsbee. "N-no." He said it hesitatingly, and with the surprise fast turning to perplexity. "Did you cause it to be written?" The Chief spread the letter out before him on the desk, and slowly deciphered it. "It's my paper, and my envelope," he said at last; "but it was never sent from this office." "Then you disown it?" "Entirely. I hope you intend to tell me how it came into your possession." "It is written, as you see, to Mr. Warburton--" "To Mr. Alan Warburton; yes." "Introducing one Mr. Grip, late of Scotland Yards." "I see." "Well, sir, Mr. Warburton received this note the day on which it was dated."