“Only when we got out of the car that morning. He said to me: ‘Forget what I told you to-day, young fellow. Never rake up a man’s past!’ And he never mentioned the subject again. Of course, I didn’t either ...” Stretched full length in his chair, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, Robin remained lost in thought. “The conversation came back to me to-day,” said the boy, “when I read of Parrish’s death. And I wondered ...” “Well?” “Whether the secret of his death may not be found somewhere in his adventurous past. You see he said that Victor Marbran was an enemy. Then there was something else. I never told you—when you took all that trouble to get me another job after Parrish had sacked me—the exact reason for my dismissal. You never asked me either. That was decent of you, Robin ...” “I liked you, Bruce,” said Robin shortly. “Well, I’ll tell you now,” he said. “When I joined H.P.’s staff after I got out of the Army, I was put under old Jeekes, of course, to learn the work. One of the first injunctions he gave me was with regard to Mr. Parrish’s letters. I suppose you know more or less how secretaries of a big business man like Hartley Parrish work. They open all letters, lay the important ones before the big man for him to deal with personally, make a digest of the others or deal with them direct ...” Robin nodded. “Well,” the boy resumed, “the first thing old Jeekes told me was that letters arriving in a blue envelope and marked ‘Personal’ were never to be opened ...” “In a blue envelope?” echoed Robin quickly. “Yes, a particular kind of blue—a sort of slatey-blue—Jeekes showed me one as a guide. Well, these letters were to be handed to Mr. Parrish unopened.” Robin had stood up. “That’s odd,” he said, diving in his pocket. “I say, hold on a bit,” protested the boy, “this is really rather important what I am telling you. I’ll never finish if you keep on interrupting.” “Sorry, Bruce,” said Robin, and sat down again. But he began to play restlessly with his cigarette case which he had drawn from his pocket. “Well, of course,” Bruce resumed, “I wasn’t much of a private secretary really, and one day I forgot all about this injunction. Some days old H.P. got as many as three hundred letters. I was alone at Harkings with him, I remember, Jeekes was up at Sheffield and the other secretaries were away ill or something, and in the rush of dealing with this enormous mail I slit one of these blue envelopes open with the rest. I discovered what I had done only after I had got all the letters sorted out, this one with the rest. So I went straight to old H.P. and told him. By Jove!” “What happened?” said Robin.