Evan applied himself to it with no little curiosity. Meanwhile he was aware that the two were watching him like lynxes. The letter was written in a neatly-formed, highly characteristic hand on a sheet of cheap note-paper without any distinguishing marks. Evan read:
"Mr. George Deaves:
Dear Sir:
We take pleasure in enclosing copy of a humorous little story that has been prepared for the press. None will appreciate it better than you and 'Poppa' we are sure. If you think it is too good to be offered to the public it will cost you five thousand dollars for the exclusive rights, including motion pictures and dramatic. But unless we hear from you before the day is out we will take it that you don't want to buy, and it will be offered to the Clarion for to-morrow's edition. The Clarion is always delighted to get hold of these human interest tales. Copies will be mailed to everybody in the social register, and especially to Mrs. George Deaves.
But if you want to reserve the fun to yourself bring five one-thousand-dollar bills to the reading-room of the New York Public Library this morning. Call for Lockhart's History of the Crimean War in two folio volumes and insert the bills in volume one at the following pages: 19, 69, 119, 169, 219. Then return the books to the desk.
With kindest regards,
Yours very sincerely,
THE IKUNAHKATSI."
A noiseless whistle escaped from Evan's lips; his eyes were bright. For the moment he forgot that he was the accused. His sole feeling was one of the keenest curiosity. A fascinating mystery was suggested. The impudent letter was like a challenge.
"May I see the enclosure?" he asked.
"No," said Deaves stiffly.