The Press., 1911-04-19


 he believed to be the writer of the letter. No clew had ever been found to lead the police to the murderer of Peter Driscoll. Hunt had secured an acquaintance with Driscoll's family. They had been rich, but discovered at the death of their father that the prop erty, which had consisted of interest bearing stocks and bonds, had disap- peared. They had concluded that he had been speculating and lost it. They had been obliged to give up the hand some house in which they lived and had sold their furniture at auction. Hunt questioned them to discover if they suspected their fathers property had passed to the man who had writ ten the letter, but found they had never heard of him.
 A great many discoveries are stum- bled on. Hunt stumbled on the man who wrote the letter. He talked with every one who had known Driscoll and learned incidentally from one of Driscolls acquaintances, a banker, that Driscoll had kept an account with him. Hunt succeeded in inducing the man to let him have a peep at Dris- coils account. One man, an Italian named Vechi, had received large amounts for which there was no ex- planation. Hunt then asked Driscoll's widow to permit him to look over her husbands papers. Among them he found a letter the handwriting of which corresponded with that of the note had discovered. In the note it was disguised, but not so successfully put that Hunt suspected it was the same as in the letter he had compared it with. An expert proved that he was right. Vechi lived as a poor man, keeping a shop in which he dealt in odds and ends, curiosities, and did something in the way of autographs of prominent persons.
 When we had laid our plans went with Hunt to Vechi's shop. The Ital- fan had as disagreeable a face as any man I ever knew. I shuddered at his knowing we possessed his secret lest he murder us to prevent our giving it to the authorities. Hunt said to him:
 "Do you buy autographs here?"
 Sometimes"
 "I have one would like to sell you"
 "Whose autograph is it?'
 "Not a very distinguished person. Nevertheless we ask a large price for it."
 T don't wish to buy any autograph for large price" ....
 You will pay fortune for this one, am sure, when you know whose 1t is."
 "Whose is it?"
 "YOur own"
 The man gave an involuntary start. Up to this time he did not suspect we had any other motive than to sell a bona fide autograph. Hunts words "Your own" and the way the detective looked at him assured him that we had come on very different errand.
 "Let me see it," said the autograph dealer in a low voice.
 T will read you the note to which it Is signed" said Hunt.
 had arranged with Hunt that when hand ill my side pocket and grasp a revolver. I did so, and Hunt, standing well away from the Italian that he might not snatch the paper, read what was written, ending with the word "NemO." Vechi heard his doom in the words and turned ghastly white. Hunt waited for him to speak, keeping his eyes riveted on him the while.
 "How much do you ask for ?" final ly Vechi asked ...
 "My friend here," replied the detec- tive, pointing to me, "is it's owner. He intends to give the proceeds of its sale to the family of the man to whom this note was addressed and who was''-
 Vechi staggered. Hunt continued:
 "The prize is certain stocks and bonds that passed to this man Memo If they are all returned the note will be returned to the writer to do what he likes with it and no steps will be talk en in tic case. If every security is not given up Memo will be arrested be- fore he can leave his shop"
 Vechi seemed to be thinking for a few moments, after which he asked: 'Toll ,~~o thr amount ''