This man was bearded and surely must be Jack Blick, he of the deadly habits.
"What name did you say?" queried Noll slowly.
Lieutenant Prescott and Hal Overton got out their revolvers in a jiffy, each standing with hand on the knob of a door.
"Arthur Dade," repeated the mild-voiced one.
"Bade?" blundered Noll purposely. "Will you please spell it?"
"D-a-d-e, Dade, Arthur Dade," said the man before the window.
"I'll see," nodded Noll coolly. He stepped back, running through the letters in the D box. There was a letter there, as Noll Terry knew well enough. It had come in the mail that morning, and was postmarked at San Francisco.
Presently Noll came back into sight with the letter, holding it out with his left hand, while, with his right, he leaned over to replace the other letters in D box.
"Can you reach it?" invited Noll.