Arthur perceived that it had been turned inside out, and took the trouble to reverse it.

It was riddled with holes, some of them to admit the running cords which had closed round the neck and elbows of the unfortunate Mr Bickers, and some, notably that in the region of the nose, made hastily, with the motive of giving the captive a little ventilation.
Arthur could not help thinking, as he turned the sack outside in, that it would have been nicer for Mr Bickers to have the comparatively clean side of the canvas next to his face instead of the very grimy and travel-stained surface which had fallen to his lot.
But these speculations gave place to other emotions as he discovered two black initials painted on the canvas, and still legible under their covering of dirt and grease.

There was no mistaking them, and Arthur gave vent to a whistle of consternation as he deciphered an "M.R." Now, as Arthur and everybody else knows, "M.R." _may_ mean Midland Railway, but the Midland Railway is not six feet two inches, and does not carry wax vestas about him, or drop them on the floor of the boot- box.
Arthur gaped at those initials for fully three minutes, and then hurriedly hid the sack away in the cupboard.
He had still one more point to clear up.

He pulled the wedge of paper out of his pocket and began nervously to unroll it.

It was frayed and black where the door had ground it against the floor; but, on beginning to open it, it turned out to be a portion of a torn newspaper.