He advanced timidly toward Marcus, who shook hands with him. He sat down before the fire, and commenced fumbling his cap in the old way. "With the exception of that trick, and his shyness, there was little of the original boy Bog about him, "Mr. Wilkeson," said he, giving his cap a twirl, "I am very sorry to see you here; because, I may say, I _know_ you are innocent." The positive manner in which the boy asserted this, charmed Marcus, "I thank you, my dear Bog," said he; "but how do you know it? For, though I am innocent, I may have some trouble in proving it." The boy drew a small folded note from his pocket. "I'll explain, sir," said he. Marcus here called in his counsel, Messrs. Overtop and Maltboy, and his good friend the lieutenant of police, who had just arrived in the outer room, in order that they might hear the explanation. The boy was embarrassed by his audience; but the anxious look of Marcus, and a few kind words from the lieutenant of police, reassured him. Bog then proceeded to tell what he knew of the strange young man's acquaintance with Miss Patty Minford--which was very easily told, since it did not amount to much--and concluded by opening the letter given to him by the young man for delivery to Miss Minford, and handed it to Marcus. Marcus glanced at the writing, expecting that it would resemble that of the first anonymous letter addressed to Mr. Minford, which he drew from his pocket for comparison. But the writing was totally different in inclination, thickness of the downward stroke, and all other respects. He read it aloud, his counsel and the lieutenant of police listening attentively. "I don't know much about the case yet," said the lieutenant, "but, jumping at a conclusion, I should say that this sneaking chap was jealous of your intimacy with the Minford family; that he wrote the anonymous letters to the old man, in a different hand, and that he either committed the murder, or knows something about it. His motive for annoying Miss Minford I can understand--for this city 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.