The warden picked up the special delivery letter carelessly, and then began to open it.
"When I read this I want to tell you gentlemen something about how---- Great Cæsar!" he ended, suddenly, as he glanced at the letter. He sat with mouth open, motionless, from astonishment.
"What is it?" asked Mr. Fielding.
"A special delivery letter from Cell 13," gasped the warden. "An invitation to supper."
"What?" and the two others arose, unanimously. The warden sat dazed, staring at the letter for a moment, then called sharply to a guard outside in the corridor.
"Run down to Cell 13 and see if that man's in there."
The guard went as directed, while Dr. Ransome and Mr. Fielding examined the letter.
"It's Van Dusen's handwriting; there's no question of that," said Dr. Ransome. "I've seen too much of it."
Just then the buzz of the telephone from the outer gate sounded, and the warden, in a semi-trance, picked up the receiver.
"Hello! Two reporters, eh? Let 'em come in." He turned suddenly to the doctor and Mr. Fielding. "Why, the man _can't_ be out. He must be in his cell."