She again referred to the letter, then with a sort of hopeless gesture held it out to Joe. He took it and cried:
"Why, what's this? It's all torn up," and he exhibited a handful of scraps of paper.
"Oh—Joe!" Helen gasped. "How did that happen?"
"Just a mistake," he replied. With a quick motion of his hand he held out the letter whole and untorn.
"Oh—oh!" she stammered. Then, laughing, added: "Is that one of your sleight-of-hand tricks?"
"Yes," Joe nodded. When Helen handed him the letter he happened to be holding the scraps of a circular letter he had just received and torn up. It occurred to him, just for a joke, to make Helen believe her letter had suddenly gone to pieces. It was one of Joe's simplest tricks, and he often did them nowadays in order to keep in practice.
"You certainly gave me a start!" Helen exclaimed. "I had hardly read the letter myself. It's quite puzzling."
"Do you want me to read it—and advise you?" asked Joe.
"If you will—and can—yes."
Joe hastily glanced over the paper. He saw in a moment that it was from a New York firm of lawyers. The body of the letter read: