nly," said Evan. "I have no reason to be ashamed of it."

"Write five thousand dollars, first in figures, then spelled out."

Evan did so, and shoved the paper back. Deaves compared it with a
letter which lay in front of him, the old man peering over his shoulder.

"Nothing like," the latter said disappointed.

"That doesn't prove anything!" snapped the son. "I didn't suppose that
he worked this single-handed. He has confederates."

Evan's momentary discomfiture had subsided. The situation was becoming
too absurd. Was he accused of forgery or blackmail? He began to grin.

"You said you were an artist," said George Deaves with a sapient air.
"Can you prove it?"

"Certainly," said Evan. "If you'll come to my studio. There are
dozens of my canvases there."

"But how would I know you painted them?"

"Oh, I'll do you one while you wait."

"Facetiousness won't do you any good," said Deaves severely. "This is
a serious matter. Please explain how you came to be in that little
obscure street where you met Papa yesterday?"

"There is no explanation," said Evan. "I was just walking about."

The young man sneered. He tossed over the letter that lay before him.
"Read that," he said.

Evan applied himself to it with no little curiosity. Meanwhile he was
aware that the two were watching him like lynxes. The letter was
written in a neatly-formed, highly characteristic hand on a sheet of
cheap note-paper without any distinguishing marks. Evan read:

"Mr. George Deaves:

Dear Sir:

We take pleasure in enclosing copy of a humorous little story that has
been prepared for the press. None will appreciate it better than you
and 'Poppa' we are sure. If you think it is too good to be offered to
the public it will cost you five thousand dollars for the exclusive
rights, including motion pictures and dramatic. But unless we hear
from you before the day is out we will take it that you don't want to
buy, and it will be offered to the _Clarion_ for to-morrow's edition.
The _Clarion_ is always delighted to get hold of these human interest
tales. Copies will be mailed to everybody in the social register, and
especially to Mrs. George Deaves.

But if you want to reserve the fun to yourself bring five
one-thousand-dollar bills to the reading-room of the New York Public
Library this morning. Call for Lockhart's History of the Crimean War
in two folio volumes and insert the bills in volume one at the
following p