"I kept it out for you instead of sending it to the office." "Thank you," said Philip.

"A special--from headquarters.

Why in thunder didn't they send me a messenger instead of a letter, Braky?
They could have caught me on the train." He tore open the departmental envelope as he spoke and drew forth a bit of folded paper.

It was not the official letter-head, but at a glance Philip recognized the inspector's scrawling writing and his signature.
It was one of MacGregor's quiet boasts that the man did not live who could forge his name.

An astonished whistle broke from his lips as he read these few lines: Follow your conscience, whatever you do.