'Here are the very letters.

But what is this written above them ?' "'Put the papers on the sundial,' I read, peeping over his shoulder.
"'What papers?
What sundial ?' he asked.
"'The sundial in the garden.

There is no other,' said I; 'but the papers must be those that are destroyed.' "'Pooh!' said he, gripping hard at his courage.

'We are in a civilised land here, and we can't have tomfoolery of this kind.
Where does the thing come from ?' "'From Dundee,' I answered, glancing at the postmark.
"'Some preposterous practical joke,' said he.

'What have I to do with sundials and papers?
I shall take no notice of such nonsense.' "'I should certainly speak to the police,' I said.
"'And be laughed at for my pains.