It was then that the letter had been handed to him in Chicago, and it had been a weight upon his soul and a prick to his conscience ever since.

Once or twice he had made up his mind to destroy it, but each time he had repented at the last moment.

In a sudden revulsion at his weakness he pulled himself together, crumpled the dirty missive into a ball, and flung it out upon the white rim of beach.
At this action there came a quick movement in the dense wall of verdure behind him.

Noiselessly the tangle of vines separated and a head thrust itself out in time to see the bit of paper fall short of the water's edge.

Then the head shot back as swiftly and as silently as a serpent's.
Perhaps Captain Plum heard the gloating chuckle that followed the movement.