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 A Remarkable Will Case him," answered George Grantham, with determination. Marsden, the lawyer, received a check for his services, and thought no more about the matter until eighteen months later. Then he was suddenly reminded of the case by a flurried visit from Gran tham, who entered the office in excite ment. "Mr. Marsden," said Grantham, "I came to tell you about what I received this morning, but you'd better take a look for yourself." He drew a long envelope from his pocket. The lawyer hastily drew out the contents, and said: "That's the will, I'm sure. Where did you get it?" "It reached me by mail. No letter accompanied it. I was thunderstruck." "Very extraordinary. The handwrit ing of the address is strange to you, I suppose?" "Completely." "I notice by the postmark that it was mailed in Franklin Square. We'll see if we can trace the sender." "You will take the necessary steps to probate the instrument?" asked Gran tham, somewhat nervously, the lawyer thought. "I will give the matter my prompt attention," Marsden replied. The client took his departure, with a suppressed excitement in his manner that Marsden felt at a loss to explain, and left the lawyer still holding the envelope in his hand. He held it up to the light and subjected it to a careful scrutiny. He happened to get it in such a position that the light shone through it, and he then noticed that it was more opaque at the lower end than elsewhere. He immediately thrust in his hand to explore the cause, and dis covered a thin slip of paper clinging to the side, which had evidently escaped Grantham's observation.

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He drew out the slip. To his disap pointment, it proved to be not a com munication from the sender, but merely a receipted restaurant bill which had evidently got into the envelope by acci dent. Then it dawned upon Marsden that this slip might serve as an important clue. It also occurred to him that what a rogue does by accident is often a better key to his secrets than what he does designedly. On the top of the restaurant bill were the words "Hotel Comet, 34 West Madison Street," and also a date—that of the day before yesterday. Marsden went directly to the restau rant, where he ascertained from the cashier that the number on the check indicated a waiter named "Peter." Mr. Marsden stated the object of his visit to Peter, who soon recalled a man with his arm in a sling. "He told me that his right hand had been so badly hurt in a railroad wreck as to make him unable to write, and he asked me to address an envelope for him." "To whom did you address it?" "I can't remember, but the street was 'Bryant.'" "Is this the envelope which you ad dressed?" asked the lawyer, producing the one which Grantham had left at his office. "That's my writing? Are you the man I addressed it to?" "No, I'm a lawyer, and if you can tell me a little more about the man I can reward you. What was he like?" "He was just an ordinary looking man—brown hair, clean-shaved and medium size, if I remember." "If he should come again, I want you to telephone to me. This is my card, and here's a ten-dollar bill. Wait a minute! I think my client, Mr. George