“Hello! from the Citizens’ Club,” he exclaimed, as he looked at the envelope. “What’s this?” He glanced over the letter. “It’s from Griswold. Listen to this, will you? ‘We have been talking over that outrageous libel about you that appeared in the Chronicle this morning, and we think that you ought to take some notice of it. It is too serious to be passed over. We hear that it also appeared in the papers in Boston, Chicago and Washington.’ Here, you read the rest, Farley.”
Farley read, with Guy looking over his shoulder. When he had finished, he passed the letter back to Briggs. No one spoke.
At last Farley glanced at the uniformed figure. “The messenger is waiting,” he said to Briggs.
Briggs swung in his chair and faced the desk. “Sit down here, Guy, and write what I dictate. ‘Frazer Griswold, Esquire, the Citizens’ Club, Fifth Avenue, New York. My dear Griswold: I see nothing in the article you mention that requires a reply. If I knew the writer, I’d pay him the compliment of thrashing him within an inch of his life.’ Give that to the stenographer. Get her to run it off on the typewriter, and I’ll sign it.”
“Respectfully yours?” Guy asked, busily writing.
Douglas Briggs smiled faintly. “Yes, very respectfully.”
As Guy left the room, Farley asked: “Any idea who did it, Mr. Briggs? Someone down in Washington, of course.”
“I think I know who did it,” Briggs replied, quietly.
“Who?”
“No one we can get back at.”