"It's up to Mr. Warrington to explain." McQuade grinned. That grin, however, nearly cost him his life.
"John, remember your promise!" cried Warrington.
John sat down, seized with a species of vertigo.
"McQuade, you wrote that."
"Me? You're crazy!"
"Not at all. Let me advise you. The next time you put your hand to anonymous letters, examine the type of your machine. There may be some bad letter."
"I don't know what you're driving at," McQuade declared.
"I see that I must read this, then, to convince you." Warrington stood up, his back toward Bennington. He unfolded the carbon sheet and began to read.
McQuade saw Medusa's head, little versed as he was in mythology. He lowered his cigar. The blood in his face gradually receded.
"'In two sums of five hundred each,'" Warrington went on.