It was addressed in the colonel's well-known round hand. This
was not the fact, however, which excited interest; for the colonel
never used any other envelopes than those of the firm.
The postman, who had just taken it from his bag, wanted to deliver it
at its destination. The proprietor wanted to throw it back into the
box for remailing, believing it to be a Garden Spot circular, and so
of no especial importance. The bright young man wanted to return it
to the colonel.
The bright young man prevailed, rapped at the door, and laid the letter
under the colonel's nose. It bore this address:--
P. A. KLUTCHEM, ESQ.,
Room 21, Star Building, Wall Street,
_Immediate._ New York.
The colonel turned pale and broke the seal. Out dropped his challenge!
"Where did you get this?" he asked, aghast.
"From the carrier. It was held for postage."
Had a bombshell been exploded the effect could not have been more
startling.
Yancey was the first man on his feet.
"And the scoundrel never got it! Here, Colonel, give me the letter.
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