have to pardon trifling imperfections. But
I'm sure you will see that it is a series of the first importance." From
her muff she took a flat envelope, slipped off the rubber band with
great deliberation, glanced at the enclosures and laid them on the
table.

The Great Man's face was a study. His usual mask of indifferent
superiority deserted him. The blow was so unexpected that he was for
once staggered and off his guard. His hand was shaking, as with an oath
he snatched up the photographs. It was his own handwriting that met his
eye, and Mrs. Marteen had not exaggerated when she had designated the
letters as a "series of the first importance." With the shock of
recognition came doubt of his own senses. Mrs. Martin Marteen
blackmailing him? Preposterous! His eyes sought the lady's face. She was
quite calm and self-possessed.

"I need not point out to you, Mr. Gard, the desirability of adding these
to your collection. These letters give clear information concerning the
value to you of the Texas properties mentioned, which are now about to
pass into the possession of your emissaries if all goes well. Of course,
if these letters were placed in the hands of those most interested it
would cause you to make your purchase at a vastly higher figure; it
might prevent the transaction altogether. But far more important than
that, they conclusively prove that your company _is_ a monopoly framed
in the restraint of trade--proof that will be a body blow to your
defense if the threatened action of the federal authorities takes place.

"Of course," continued Mrs. Marteen, as Gard uttered a suppressed oath,
"you couldn't foresee a year ago what future conditions would make the
writing of those letters a very dangerous thing; otherwise you would
have conducted your business by word of mouth. Believe me, I do not
underrate your genius."

He laid his hands roughly upon the photographs. "I have a mind to have
you arrested this instant," he snarled.

"But you won't," she added--"not while you don't know where the
originals are. It means too much to you. The slightest menacing move
toward me would be fatal to your interests. I don't wish you any harm,
Mr. Gard; I simply want money."

In spite of his perturbation, amazement held him silent. If a shining
angel with harp and halo had confronted him with a proposition to rob a
church, the situation could not have astonished him more. She gave him
time to recover.

"Of course you must re