He held this before the sick man's eyes, but just out of reach, one finger silently indicating the lower left-hand corner.
Matthews stared at it for a moment, and the hectic flush faded to a grayish pallor, and a queer, impotent sound gurgled in his throat.
"I see you recognise it," said the other quietly.

"It's open and shut, Sammy.

That little imperfection in the plate's got you, my boy." "Sammy! Sammy!" sobbed the woman again.

"Sammy, say you didn't do it!" "It's a lie!" said Matthews hoarsely.

"It's a lie! That plate was condemned in the bureau for that imperfection--condemned and destroyed." "Condemned TO BE destroyed," corrected the other, without raising his voice.