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IT WAS SIGNED "H." If Dr. Jansen could have looked under those shaggy eyebrows he would have seen Mr. Reeder's eyes light up. "May I keep this letter?" he asked. The big man shrugged. "Why, surely. I am glad that you should, because this gentleman seems to be in trouble with the police, and I do not want to be mixed up in it, except that I would like to get my thousand pounds. The prescription I will advertise because it is humanity." Dr. Jansen took his departure after giving his address, which was a small flat in Pimlico. He was hardly out of the building before Mr. Reeder had verified his name and his qualifications from a work of reference. The letter he carried to Scotland Yard and to the Chief Constable. "Smell it," he said. The Chief sniffed. "Camphor—and not exactly camphor