That mischievous and cowardly form of secret attack, the anonymous letter, demands, unfortunately, a large amount of attention from the handwriting expert. One of the most pleasant rewards that can attend the conscientious and painstaking student of handwriting lies in the knowledge that his art may sometimes enable him to bring to deserved punishment the assassin of reputation and domestic happiness.

It is a moot point, which has been discussed by legal authorities, as to whether the handwriting expert is justified in tendering evidence and opinions of a kind that may be said to belong by right to the criminal investigator. By this is meant that the expert should not be allowed to point out to a jury such pieces of circumstantial evidence as the similarity of the paper used by the suspected person with other found in his possession; that he ought not to direct attention to postmarks, coincidence of dates, similarity of ink used, the employment of certain words and phrases, and other external and indirect clues that point to the authorship. It is urged that the whole duty of the expert is to say whether in his opinion two or more writings are by the same hand or not, and any expression of opinion outside this question is ultra vires.

The obvious answer to this objection is that it is impossible to limit the expert in the selection of those points which appeal to and assist him in forming an opinion. It is impossible to say what may or may not suggest a valuable clue to a keen observer; and as the expert is often called upon to give reasons for his opinion he is quite justified in indicating the steps by which he arrived at it.

These circumstances arise more often in connection with anonymous letters than with ordinary signature forgeries, for the field of exploration and the material examined are so much larger. Details become invaluable. The quality and make of the paper used, or a peculiar method of folding and placing it in the envelope may afford a clue that will put the expert on the high road to an important discovery. It is impossible to say how or where a clue may lurk. The torn edge of a postage stamp once supplied a hint that was followed up successfully. A smudge on the envelope, that matched a similar one on a packet of envelopes in the writing case of a person quite unsuspected, led to conviction, as did a number of an address that was crossed out and rewritten, the anonymous writer having, by force of habit, begun with the number he was in the habit of writing—his own.

In short, the expert has, nolens volens, to assume many of the functions of the crime investigator in dealing with apparent trifles, and even if they do not always help him in reaching his goal, they provide material for exercising the useful art of observation. Strictly speaking the expert should, perhaps, ignore all outside suggestions as to the authorship, and confine himself to saying whether or not the specimens submitted are in the same handwriting; but in practice this will be found extremely difficult, if not impossible, for the student cannot shut his eyes to the accidental clues that invariably arise in the examination of the evidence, and almost before he realizes it, the most cautious expert finds himself trespassing upon ground that by right should be the preserve of the detective.

The points raised here may, however, be safely left to be dealt with by the judgment of the student as they arise. In the early stages of study they will probably not present themselves with the same force and frequency as later on, when they will be appreciated as providing useful private pointers for guidance; and though at times they may put the inexperienced student upon a false scent, he will have no difficulty in detecting his error if, when in doubt, he follows the principles laid down for the comparison of handwriting.

The first step to the examination of the anonymous letter consists in procuring as many suspects as possible, which, as before advised, should be lettered or numbered and put aside, until the original, which in this case is the anonymous letter, has been studied and mastered. The external evidence of which so much has already been said may or may not be looked for.

Next proceed with the examination and comparison of the writings. It is presumed that the student has prepared his notes of the peculiarities of the original; he has now to search for them in the suspects. Suppose he begins with the spurs and beards, having found them well marked in the original. He will take any one of the suspects and examine it for a repetition of the same signs. He may follow on with the rest of the suspects, taking advantage of his memory being fresh on this point, or he may prefer to exhaust one suspect of all its evidences before proceeding with another; but practice and experience will decide the best course in this matter, and influence the line of procedure.

Whatever method is pursued, all have the same object—the discovery of the peculiarities of the original in one or more of the suspects, and the student will be wise if he follow accurately the course laid down in the chapter on "How to Examine a Writing."

It is generally safe to take it for granted that the writing in an anonymous letter is disguised. There are occasions when the author persuades another person to write for him, but only rarely; for the perpetrator of a contemptible act is not usually brazen and indiscreet enough to expose himself to others. The same reasons lend strength to the presumption that the writing will, so far as its general appearance goes, be as much the opposite of the author's usual style as his ingenuity can make it. The extreme back hand occurs very frequently. It seems to be the first impulse of the anonymous writer to avoid the right slope. Even when the normal hand is a vertical, with a tendency to back hand, the extreme left slope is often chosen. Fortunately, the assumed back hand is one of the most transparent of disguises. If the student has practised it, he will not need to be reminded how difficult it is for a writer to conceal his mannerisms. By altering the slope he has only stretched and lengthened his outlines, and the expert soon learns to recognise them in their new form.

Another common disguise is the illiterate hand. This is quite as easy of detection. It is no easier for the practised and fluent writer to reproduce the shaky, irregular outlines of the illiterate, than it is for the speaker of pure and cultured English to imitate the coarse accent of the vulgar. However good the copy it always breaks down early, and the sudden and unconscious firm, clear and geometrically accurate stroke reveals the practised writer beneath the mask. Sometimes an accurately placed punctuation mark supplies the necessary clue, for when once the art of proper punctuation has been acquired it becomes almost automatic. Even experienced novelists are caught this way occasionally. They will introduce a letter, supposed to be the work of an illiterate character. The grammar and orthography suggest the idea, but the more difficult details of punctuation will be attended to, even to the apostrophe that marks the elided g in such words as "talkin'," "comin'," &c.

Very difficult and troublesome is the letter written throughout in imitation printed characters. The expert has to rely upon the curved lines, accidental punctuation marks and unpremeditated flourishes and hand-gestures; but, broadly speaking, such a letter is beyond the skill of the expert if unaided by accidental betrayal. If, as sometimes happens, the writer is ingenious enough to adopt an alphabet formed completely of straight lines and angles—an easy task—he may boast of having produced a detection-proof writing; that is, if characters formed with the aid of a rule can be called writing, for it defies detection, because there are none of the signs essential for comparison, and is less easy of identification than an incomplete skeleton. In the absence of external clues, an expert would refuse to do more than offer a very guarded opinion, and it would be wiser to decline to offer any comment whatever.

Another trick that has been resorted to by some persons is writing with the hand constricted by a tight-fitting glove. This produces a very effective disguise; but if the student will practise with the same impediment, he will discover many useful rules for guiding him on the road to penetrating this entanglement.

It should be remembered that the less control a writer has over his pen, the more likely is he unintentionally to revert to those forms to which he is habituated, for, left by itself, the hand steers the more familiar course. Disguise, alteration and variation on customary forms are the result of premeditation. When the mind is occupied more with the subject than the formation of characters, the latter naturally assume that shape to which the force of custom has bent them.