Yes, and this time it says 'Put the papers in the garden'." "Which papers? The papers in Uncle Elias's box? He burnt them!" I said. "And where has this letter come from?" my father said. He looked at the envelope. "Dundee, Scotland. Well, I don't know anything about pips or papers. I'm not going to do anything." "Father, you must tell the police," I said. I remembered my uncle's letter from India, and I was very worried. "No, they'll laugh at me. Let's just forget about it," he replied. 'Three days later my poor father went to visit an old friend who lived some miles away. But he never came back. The police said that he was walking home in the dark when he fell down a hill. He was badly hurt, and he died soon after. They decided it was an accident, but I didn't agree. I thought it was murder, and I could not forget the five orange pips and the strange letters to my uncle and my father. 'But I've tried to forget, and I've lived alone in that house for nearly three years now. Then yesterday I got this.' The young man showed us an envelope with K.K.K. The Five Orange Pips 33 on the back, and five small orange pips. 'You see?' he said. 'It comes from East London, and it says "Put the papers in the garden". Those are the words that were in the letter to my father.' '