“In America,” he said, drily, “we do not worship penmanship.”
“But an American might for other reasons keep a letter that did not belong to him.”
“Not if he was honorable. His natural course would be to see that it was delivered to the person for whom it was intended. Certainly he would not give it to any man who could not prove his right to it.”
“Would he not? But if he were told that he mus’ die——?”
“In that case he would inform his friends of the threats against him, and they would see that his murderers were hanged. Assassination is not popular in America, Excellency.”
Orme did not attempt to conceal the contempt in his words, and several of the listeners moved in their chairs, betraying their embarrassment.
“Perhaps, then, Mr. Orme,” said the minister, “you could favor us with a story which would show the attitude of an American in such an affair.”
Orme laughed. “Oddly enough,” he replied, “I can give you just such a story—if you all care to hear it.”
“Go on,” murmured one of the men.
“It happened to a friend of mine,” said Orme. “He had in his possession a number of proxies, the use of which would determine the control of a certain corporation. While he was carrying these proxies to the country-house of the man to whom he was to deliver them, he was attacked by a man who was acting for another faction. This man secured the advantage over my friend and, robbing him of the proxies, jumped into a waiting motor-car to make his escape.”