Faynie seemed incapable of interfering.
"Now we will soon determine what else there is here of importance--my
time cannot be more profitably spent than by informing myself."
Paper after paper he carefully unfolded, glancing quickly through their
contents, and as quickly tossing them back into the safe.
Evidently he had not yet found that for which he was searching so
intently.
Suddenly he came across a large square envelope, the words on which
seemed to arrest his attention at once. And in a whispered, yet
distinctly audible voice, he read the words:
"Horace Fairfax, last message to his wife--dated March 22, 18--."
"Why that is the very date upon which he died," muttered Kendale. "This
must have been written just before he committed suicide. Well, we will
see what he had to say."
And slowly he read, half aloud, as follows:
"MY DEAR WIFE: When you read the words here penned I shall be no
more. I know your heart will be most bitter against me for what I
have just done, but, realizing that my end was near, I have done it
for the best.
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