The pigeonholes were crammed with papers, as, presumably, too, were the drawers.

Jimmie Dale sucked in his breath.

He had already been there well over half an hour--every minute now, every second was counting against him, and to search that mass of papers before Stangeist returned was-- "Ah!"-- it came in a fierce little ejaculation from Jimmie Dale.

From the centre pigeonhole, almost the first paper he had touched, he drew a long, sealed envelope and at a single swift glance had read the inscription upon it, written in longhand: TO THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY, NEW YORK CITY.
IMPORTANT.

URGENT.
The words in the corners were underscored three times.
Swiftly, deftly, Jimmie Dale's hands rolled the rounded end of one of his collection of the legal instruments under the flap of the envelope, turned the sheets over and drew out the folded document inside.