That's it, Mr McKeith.

There's the proof that I am not lying about what I saw.' Harris had taken out of his breast pocket, a piece of newspaper in which was wrapped the leaf torn out of Maule's notebook, folded and addressed.

He opened it out, and laid it on the office table in front of McKeith, keeping his own stubby finger on one corner of the sheet.
Still McKeith maintained his difficult self-restraint.
'So you stole--a private communication that had been left in another person's room, and was intended for his eyes alone ?' 'Come now, Boss.

You know well enough that a constabulary officer who's up against tricks to release a prisoner has got to keep his eyes peeled, and mustn't let any clue to mischief escape him.

How was I to know that there wasn't some plot to cheat the law?
How do I know that there wasn't?
That's why I'm showing you the paper.