“‘Mr. Alfred Lawrence in some way got hold of this letter. “‘He was sent to State’s prison a year ago to-day. “‘Mrs. Lawrence and Rich have gone abroad together. “‘Two weeks ago, while crossing Broadway, I was knocked down by a runaway team and taken to this hospital. “‘I have suffered terrible agony, and the doctors have informed me that I cannot live. “‘I intrust this confession and the stolen documents, which will clear Mr. Alfred Lawrence, to my chum, Edward Peters, with instructions to deliver them to the proper authorities. “‘(Signed) GEORGE BLANCHARD. “‘Witnessed by: “‘EDWARD PETERS, “‘LEONARD THOMPSON, M. D., House Physician, Bellevue Hospital. “‘Dated August 17, 19--’” For some time after Carter finished reading he and Mr. Wright sat in silence. Mr. Wright was the first to speak. “That confession shows that Lawrence was innocent,” he remarked. “Yes,” the detective rejoined, “but it throws no light on the murder.” “I wonder what became of Edward Peters and what induced him to leave the package of documents with me? If I had only known the value of those papers years ago, I would have had Lawrence out of Sing Sing in a jiffy.” “I wonder if Doctor Leonard Thompson, whose signature is attached to this confession, is the famous specialist who now resides on upper Fifth Avenue?” “We can easily find out by calling on him.” “We will start for his house immediately.” Carter put the papers into the inside pocket of his coat, and then he and Mr. Wright started for the house of the Fifth Avenue physician. When the detective and his companion arrived at the palatial mansion they were shown into a small reception room in which a number of patients were seated. Carter gave his card to the butler, requesting him to present it to his master and state that he desired to see the doctor on important business. In a few minutes the butler returned and said that the doctor would see them. Doctor Thompson was a man of fine physique and aristocratic bearing. At first he acted rather coldly when the detective and Mr. Wright entered his private office. However, he invited them to be seated and asked what they desired. “Were you ever house physician at Bellevue Hospital?” Carter inquired. “I was,” Doctor Thompson replied. “Is this your signature?” The detective took the Blanchard confession out of his pocket and showed the doctor the signature. “This is my signature,” the physician said, after he had glanced at it, and instantly he thawed out and became interested. “What is that paper?” “A confession of a man named George Blanchard,” the detective answered. “He was at one time a butler for a Mr. Alfred Lawrence.” “I remember the man. He died from injuries received in a runaway. I never knew what the confession related to.