The Devil's Advocate by Fred M. White

A certain hard, fierce pride prevented Macrae from making any sort of explanation to his visitor. He might have told Blinn, of course, that this information was more or less public property, inasmuch as Philp already knew it. But he sat there doggedly at his desk, resolved to let the little moneylender think whatever he pleased. It would be all the same in the long run. It was obvious, too, that Blinn had not the slightest intention of holding back anything which in the slightest degree was likely to compromise himself.

"I thought it was only the fair thing to come and let you know what I had found in our letter book," he said. "Dashed funny thing that I hadn't spotted it before. Fact is, Baines and our set were one, and Baines had the run of our office without the general public being any the wiser. He must have popped in the day of his death before the clerk got to the office and dashed off that note on the Remington. I suppose he couldn't resist the temptation to write in that postscript. Queer old devil was Baines. I thought that I could come and tell you this before going on to the police station and putting Dent wise. I am bound to do this, don't you think?"