I hate you! I wish to God
you were an out and out bad one so I could hate you right. But now
you're trying to bluff me that you're a decent head! I don't believe
you!"

Evan laughed. "Call my bluff," he said. "I'd do the writing myself,
only it would lose all its effect in another handwriting. And I never
could imitate your style."

"Very well, I'll do it," said Dordess. "Come back to my office in an
hour and a half and they'll be ready."

He was as good as his word. He and Evan laughed grimly together over
the result of his labours.

"Send it up by messenger," said Evan. "It will save time. I'll be on
hand when it arrives."

It was past eleven when Evan rang the bell of the Deaves house. He was
not without anxiety as to the reception he would receive. It was
possible that the old man, when he had quieted down, might begin to
remember things, and to put two and two together. However, he had to
take that chance.

He learned that Simeon Deaves was not yet up, that Mrs. George Deaves
was out, and her husband in the library. The latter received him with
no friendly face.

"You shouldn't have come here," he said.

Evan excused himself on the score of his anxiety about the old man.

"Papa got home all right," said George Deaves. "What happened to you
last night?"

Evan led him to suppose that his chase had ended in nothing. He asked
a cautious question.

"Oh," said the other. "Papa told a confused story about the house
where he was confined being raided by the police, and a chase through
the woods. I thought maybe you were mixed up in it."

The old man had not recognized him, then. Evan was relieved. He
affected to be greatly astonished.

"The police!" he said. "Who could have put them on to it? There was
nothing in the paper this morning."

"No, thank Heaven!" said Deaves fervently. "Maybe his mind was
wandering. I couldn't make sense of his story. I hope and pray the
thing is done with now."

But poor George Deaves was due to receive a shock when the second man
presently entered.

"Letter by messenger, sir. No answer."

At the sight of the superscription Deaves turned livid and fell back in
his chair. He stared at the envelope like a man bewitched. He
moistened his lips and essayed to speak, but no sound came out.

"What's the matter?" asked Evan when the servant had left.

"Another letter--already!" whispered Deaves huskily. "And only
yesterday--four hundred thousand!