bit of ribbon, a circular letter about a loan
society, and some copies of verses not likely
to suit any company that was not of an extremely
wicked description. On the leaves of
the pocket-book, people's addresses scrawled
in pencil, and bets jotted down in red ink.
On one leaf, by itself, this queer inscription:
"MEM. 5 ALONG. 4 ACROSS." I understood
everything but those words and figures;
so of course I copied them out into my own
book. Then I waited in the pantry, till Boots
had brushed the clothes and had taken them
upstairs. His report, when he came down
was, that Mr. D. had asked if it was a fine
morning. Being told that it was, he had
ordered breakfast at nine, and a saddlehorse
to be at the door at ten, to take him to
Grimwith Abbey—one of the sights in our
neighbourhood which I had told him of the
evening before.

"I'll be here, coming in by the back way at
half-past ten," says I to the head chambermaid.
"To take the responsibility of making
Mr. Davager's bed off your hands for this
morning only. I want to hire Sam for the
morning. Put it down in the order-book
that he's to be brought round to my office at
ten."

Sam was a pony, and I'd made up my
mind that it would be beneficial to Tom's
health, after the tarts, if he took a constitutional
airing on a nice hard saddle in the
direction of Grimwith Abbey.

"Anything else," says the head chambermaid.

"Only one more favour," says I. " "Would
my boy Tom be very much in the way
if he came, from now till ten, to help
with the boots and shoes, and stood at his
work close by this window which looks out
on the staircase?"

"Not a bit," says the head chambermaid.

"Thank you," says I; and stepped back
to my office directly.

When I had sent Tom off to help with
the boots and shoes, I reviewed the whole
case exactly as it stood at that time. There
were three things Mr. Davager might do
with the letter. He might give it to his
friend again before ten—in which case, Tom
would most likely see the said friend on the
stairs. He might take it to his friend, or to
some other friend, after ten—in which case,
Tom was ready to follow him on Sam the
pony. And, lastly, he might leave it hidden
somewhere in his room at the inn—in which
case, I was all ready for him with a
search-warrant of my own granting, under
favour always of my friend the head
chambermaid. So far I had my business
arrangements all gathered up nice and compact
in my own hands. Only two things
bothered me: the terrible shortness of the
time at my disposal, in case I failed in my
first experiments for getting hold of the
letter, and that queer inscription which I had
copied out of the pocket-book.

"MEM. 5 ALONG. 4 ACROSS." It was the
measurement, most likely, of something, and
he was afraid of forgetting it; therefore, it
was something important. Query—something
about himself? Say " 5 " (inches)
"along '' —he doesn't wear a wig. Say " 5"
(feet) " along " —it can't be coat, waistcoat,
trowsers, or underclothing. Say " 5 " (yards)
"along " —it can't be anything about himself,
unless he wears round his body the rope
that he's sure to be hanged with one of these
days. Then it is not something about himself.
What do I know of that is important
to him besides? I know of nothing but the
Letter. Can the memorandum be connected
with that? Say, yes. What do " 5 along"
and " 4 across " mean then? The measurement
of something he carries about with
him? —or the measurement of something
in his room? I could get pretty satisfactorily
to myself as far as that; but I could
get no further.

Tom came back to the office, and reported
him mounted for his ride. His friend had
never appeared. I sent the boy off, with his
proper instructions, on Sam's back—wrote an
encouraging letter to Mr. Frank to keep him
quiet—then slipped into the inn by the back
way a little before half-past ten. The head
chambermaid gave me a signal when the
landing was clear. I got into his room without
a soul but her seeing me, and locked the
door immediately. The case was to a certain
extent, simplified now. Either Mr. Davager
had ridden out with the letter about him, or
he had left it in some safe hiding-place in his
room. I suspected it to be in his room, for a
reason that will a little astonish you—his
trunk, his dressing-case, and all the drawers
and cupboards were left open. I knew my
customer, and I thought this extraordinary
carelessness on his part rather suspicious.

Mr. Davager had taken one of the best
bedrooms at the Gatliffe Arms. Floor carpeted
all over, walls beautifully papered, four-
poster, and general furniture first-rate. I
searched, to begin with, on the usual plan,
examining every thing in every possible way,
and taking more than an hour about it. No
discovery. Then I pulled out a carpenter's
rule which I had brought with me. Was
there anything in the room which—either in
inches, feet, or yards—answered to " 5 along"
and " 4 across? " Nothing. I put the rule
back in my pocket—measurement was no
good evidently. Was there anything in the
room that would count up to 5 one way
and 4 another, seeing that nothing would
measure up to it? I had got obstinately
persuaded by this time that the letter must
be in the room—principally because of the
trouble I had had in looking after it. And
persuading myself of that, I took it into my
head next, just as obstinately, that " 5
along " and " 4 across " must be the right
clue to find the letter by—principally because
I hadn't left myself, after all my searching