d to have been.

"Insane asylum," he murmured. "Was--er--the blank--er--filled in?"

"Only partly. My name was pricked in, and there was a specification of
dementia from drug habit, with suicidal tendencies."

With a quick signal, unseen by the visitor, Average Jones opened the
way to Bertram, who, in wide range of experience and study had once
specialized upon abnormal mental phenomena.

"Pardon me," that gentleman put in gently, "has there ever been any
dementia in your family?"

"Not as far as I know."

"Or suicidal mania?"

"All my people have died respectably in their beds," declared the
visitor with some vehemence.

"Once more, if I may venture. Have you ever been addicted to any drug?"

"Never, sir."

"Now," Average Jones took up the examination, "will you tell me of any
enemy who would have reason to persecute you?"

"I haven't an enemy in the world."

"You're fortunate," returned the other smiling, "but surely, some
time in your career--business rivalry--family alienation--any one of a
thousand causes?"

"No," answered the harassed man. "Not for me. My business runs smoothly.
My relations are mostly dead. I have no friends and no enemies. My wife
and I live alone, and all we ask," he added in a sudden outburst of
almost childish resentment, "is to be left alone."

The inquisitor's gaze returned to the packet of letters. "You haven't
complained to the post-office authorities?"

"And risk the publicity?" returned Robinson with a shudder.

"Well, give me over night with these. Oh, and I may want to 'phone you
presently. You'll be at home? Thank you. Good day."

"Now," said Average Jones to Bertram, as their caller's plump back
disappeared, "this looks pretty, queer to me. What did you think of our
friend?"

"Scared but straight," was Bertram's verdict.

"Glad to hear it. That's my idea, too. Let's have a look at the
material. We've already got the opening threat, and the General Delivery
follow-up."

"Which shows, at least, that it isn't a case of somebody in the
apartment house tampering with the mail."

"Not only that. It's a dodge to find out whether he got the first
message. People don't always read advertisements, even when sealed, as
the first message-bearing one was. Therefore, our mysterious persecutor
says: 'I'll just have Robinson prove it to me, if he did get the first
message, by calling for the second.' Then, after a lapse of time, he
himself goes to the General Delivery, a