He wondered through what formalities L 22, for instance, would have
to go in order to secure a letter addressed to him? Whether he had to
present a card or whether he walked in demanded his mail and went away.
That thought brought another with it. Wasn't it probable that Bassett
was in New York, and would call for his mail himself?
He determined finally to take the chance, claim to be L 22, and if Melis
had seen the advertisement and replied, get the letter. It would be easy
to square it with the valet, by saying that he had recognized him in the
theater and that Miss Carlysle wished to send him a box.
He had small hope of a letter at his first call, unless the Frenchman
had himself seen the notice, but his anxiety drove him early to the
office. There was nothing there, but he learned one thing. He had to
go through with no formalities. The clerk merely looked in a box, said
"Nothing here," and went on about his business. At eleven o'clock he
went back again, and after a careful scrutiny of the crowd presented
himself once more.
"L 22? Here you are."
He had the letter in his hand. He had glanced at it and had thrust it
deep in his pocket, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He wheeled and
faced Bassett.
"I thought I recognized that back," said the reporter, cheerfully. "Come
over here, old man. I want to talk to you."
But he held to Gregory's shoulder. In a corner Bassett dropped the
friendliness he had assumed for the clerk's benefit, and faced him with
cold anger.
"I'll have that letter now, Gregory," he said. "And I've got a damned
good notion to lodge an information against you."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Forget it. I was behind you when you asked for that letter. Give it
here. I want to show you something."
Suddenly, with the letter in his hand, Bassett laughed and then tore it
open. There was only a sheet of blank paper inside.
"I wasn't sure you'd see it, and I didn't think you'd fall for it if
you did," he observed. "But I was pretty sure you didn't want me to see
Melis. Now I know it."
"Well, I didn't," Gregory said sullenly.
"Just the same, I expect to see him. The day's early yet, and that's
not a common name. But I'll take darned good care you don't get any more
letters from here."