me again. I kept him covered with my automatic.
“Will you do me one favor I didn’t put in the bargain?” he asked.
“What is it?”
“That note of the doc’s is in an envelope with my handwriting and maybe my fingerprints on it. Let me put it in a fresh envelope, will you? I don’t want to leave any broader trail behind than I have to.”
With my left hand—my right being busy with the gun—I fumbled for the envelope and tossed it to him. He took a plain envelope from the table, wiped it carefully with his handkerchief, put the note in it, taking care not to touch it with the balls of his fingers, and passed it back to me; and I put it in my pocket.
I had a hard time to keep from grinning in his face.
That fumbling with the handkerchief told me that