There were also several essays, which had evidently been written by Annie herself, when she was at school, and these were carefully tied together with a narrow and faded blue ribbon. A package of little billets contained locks of hair of various colors and shades, fancifully braided and glued to the paper, each with the name of the donor written underneath. There were a few drawings, very neatly done, some of landscapes, others of flowers, ferns, and grasses, and one that brought a startled cry from Everet Mapleson’s lips, for it was a faithful representation of that very house in the mining village of New Mexico, that he had visited only a few weeks since. The same hand had done this that had drawn the others, there could be no doubt, even if the initials “A. D.” at the bottom had not testified to the fact. “‘A. D.,’” murmured the young man. “The puzzle is slowly unweaving itself. This trunk must have been brought here after she died; but _by whom_?” His face was very grave and troubled, for disagreeable thoughts and suspicions came crowding thick and fast upon him. He put the drawings carefully back into the pocket from which he had taken them, and then continued his examination of the portfolio. But he found nothing in the other pockets, save a goodly supply of stationery, and he finally came to the conclusion that if there _had_ been any papers of importance in the receptacle they had probably been removed by his father that very day. He began listlessly turning over the blotting leaves that were attached to the middle of the portfolio; there was now and then a half sheet of paper between them, but nothing else, until he came to the last two, when a scrap of paper with some writing upon it in a bold, masculine hand, fell fluttering to the floor. Everet stooped and picked it up to return it to its place, but the instant the writing met his eye, the hot blood mounted to his brow, and he exclaimed, in a startled tone: “At last I have found it!” It was the _other half_ of that letter, which had been torn in two, and which he had found caught in the writing-desk during his previous visit to the cottage. And this is how it appeared: “SANTA FE, June 10, 18—. NIE: