And it wasn't robbery--not that he'd much on him, poor fellow! There's all he had," he went on, opening a drawer.

"You can look at 'em, if you like." He left the room just then, and Brereton, disregarding the cheap watch and chain and the pigskin purse with its light load, opened Stoner's pocket-book.

There was not much in that, either--a letter or two, some receipted bills, a couple of much creased copies of the reward bill, some cuttings from newspapers.

He turned from these to the pocket-book itself, and on the last written page he found an entry which made him start.

For there again were the initials! "-- _M.