Laird hesitated. His hand moved toward the pocket where he had put the letter.
“Come and see me in twenty minutes, then. I’ll have a letter for you.”
“Yes, suh.”
“Or, no, wait a minute.” Laird took the letter from his pocket, and held it tentatively for a minute. He studied the porter through narrowed eyelids.
The porter gazed back timidly. He noticed that the passenger’s eyes were close together. They seemed like two threatening knife points to the superstitious Pullman hand.
Laird seemed satisfied with his scrutiny. He relaxed slightly, and handed the porter the letter. The latter gazed at it slyly, and said:
“I’ll sho’ mail this, Misteh Laird. I won’t forget now!”
Laird jumped.
“How did you know my name?” He shot the question at the terrified porter viciously.
“Fum the envelope, suh. Jus’ fum the corner of the envelope.”