A sudden thought struck Joe.
“Do you mean anonymous letters?” he asked, looking keenly into Hartley’s eyes.
“Anon-non—what do you mean?” the man asked sullenly. He was an illiterate man and had probably never heard the word before.
“Letters without any name signed to them,” persisted Joe.
“Aw! what are you giving me?” snapped Hartley. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His mystification was so genuine that Joe knew that his shot, fired at random, had missed the mark. He could eliminate Hartley at once as a possible author of the anonymous letter Mabel had received.
“Never mind,” said Joe. “Now one last word, Bugs. Twice you’ve tried to do me up and twice you’ve failed. Don’t let it happen a third time. It will be three strikes and out for you if you do.”
He made a move to pass on. Hartley seemed for a moment as though he would bar the way, but the steely look in Joe’s eyes made him think better of it. With a muttered imprecation he stepped aside, and the two friends moved on.
“A bad egg,” remarked Jim, as they walked along.