"The rogues appear to be quarrelling amongst themselves. 'If,' says the writer of the epistle, 'M. le Procureur will send his police to-night between the hours of ten and twelve to the Cache-Renard woods and they follow the directions given below, they will come across the money and valuables which were taken from the mail-coach last Wednesday, and also those who robbed the coach and murdered Mme. de Plélan's valet. Strike the first bridle-path on the right after entering the wood by the main road, until you come to a fallen fir tree lying across another narrow path; dismount here and follow this track for a further three hundred mètres, till you come to a group of five larches in the midst of a thicket of birch and oak. Stand with your back to the larch that is farthest from you, and face the thicket; there you will perceive another track which runs straight into the depths of the wood, follow it until you come to a tiny clearing, at the bottom of which the thicket will seem so dense that you would deem it impenetrable. Plunge into it boldly to where a nest of broken branches reveals the presence of human footsteps, and in front of you you will see a kind of hut composed of dead branches and caked mud and covered with a rough thatch of heather. In that hut you will find that for which you seek.""Do you think it worth while to act upon this anonymous denunciation?" queried M. Saint-Tropèze when Lefèvre had finished reading. 

"I certainly do," replied the commissary. "In any case it can do no harm." 

"You must take plenty of men with you." 

"Leave that to me, Monsieur le Procureur," rejoined Lefèvre, "and I'll see that they are well armed, too." 

"What about the secret agent?" 

Lefèvre swore. 

"That worm?" was his sole but very expressive comment. 

"Will you see him about the matter?" 

"What do you think?" 

"I suppose you must." 

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