"How are you, Lester?" he said, and I can't tell you what a tonic there was in the grip of his hand. "What's wrong this morning?"
"You know Mrs. Magnus?" I asked.
"Widow of Peter? Yes; I've heard of her."
"Somebody's trying to do her out of fifty thousand dollars," I said, and tossed the note across to him. "What do you make of that?"
"Tell me about it," he said, and studied it carefully, while I repeated the story Mrs. Magnus had told me.
"And now what do you make of it?" I asked again.
"I think the answer's blackmail," he said quietly.
"But that note?"
"A fake."
"And the story?"