"I am right, Mr.Rogers--am I not ?--in my recollection that Whitmore indicated it to be here, in this room, and easily found ?" "To be sure he did," said Mr.Rogers.
"I cannot find it among his papers--which, for the rest, are in apple-pie order." Thereupon we all fell to searching.

In half an hour we had ransacked the room, and all to no purpose; and so, as if by signal, broke off and eyed one another in dismay.
And as we did so Miss Belcher laughed aloud and pointed at the valise lying in the middle of the floor--the only thing we had left unexplored.
Mr.Rogers flung himself upon it, tossed its contents right and left, dived his hand under a flap, and held up a paper with a shout.
The Rector clutched it and hurried to the bureau to examine it by the light of the candles he had taken from the chimney-piece and placed there to assist his search.
"It's the licence!" he announced.
The two others pressed forward to assure themselves.

He put the paper into their hands and, stepping to the rifled valise, bent over it, rubbing his chin meditatively.
"Now why," he asked, "would he be taking this particular paper with him ?" "Because," Miss Belcher answered, with a glance at Mr.Rogers, "he was a villain, but not a complete one.

He was a weak fool--oh, yes, and I hate him for it.

But I won't believe but that he loathed this business." "I don't see how you get that out of his packing the paper, to carry it off with him: though it's queer, I allow," said Mr.Rogers.
"It's plain enough to me.