“What do you mean?” asked Doctor Harris, with a frowning stare.
“It isn’t square,” answered Brown. “It has a sort of edge snipped off at the corner. What does it mean?”
“How the deuce should I know?” growled the doctor. “Shall we move this poor chap, do you think? He’s quite dead.”
“No,” answered the priest; “we must leave him as he lies and send for the police.” But he was still scrutinising the paper.
As they went back through the study he stopped by the table and picked up a small pair of nail scissors. “Ah,” he said, with a sort of relief, “this is what he did it with. But yet——” And he knitted his brows.
“Oh, stop fooling with that scrap of paper,” said the doctor emphatically. “It was a fad of his. He had hundreds of them. He cut all his paper like that,” as he pointed to a stac
