“A lot you are!” he sneered brutally. “You’re tickled to death. Hope to see me swing, too, I suppose?”
“Don’t talk like that,” she protested, horrified at the change in the man. “I’m going to try to see what I can do for you, though Heaven knows you don’t deserve much.”
Fury choked him and prevented a reply. At last he managed to articulate.
“What do yuh want of me?” he growled.
“I want you to tell me about a letter that I received a few days ago. It was brought here by a man by the name of Skidmore, who takes pictures.”
At the identification of the letter, Stelton’s eyes glittered and his mouth grinned cruelly. 258
“What do yuh want to know about it?” he asked.
“First I want to know why you wrote it?”
“I didn’t write it,” he snarled.
“Well, then, why you had Caldwell write it?”