"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."

"What do you think Melis can tell you, that you don't know?"

"I'll explain that to you some day," Bassett said cheerfully. "Some day
when you are in a more receptive mood than you are now. The point at
this moment seems to me to be, what does Melis know that you don't want
me to know? I suppose you don't intend to tell me."

"Not here. You may believe it or not, Bassett, but I was going to your
town to-night to see you."

"Well," Bassett said sceptically, "I've got your word for it. And I've
got nothing to do all day but to listen to you."

To his proposition that they go to his hotel Gregory assented sullenly,
and they moved out to find a taxicab. On the pavement, however, he held
back.

"I've got a right to know something," he said, "considering what he's
done to me and mine. Clark's alive, I suppose?"

"He's alive all right."

"Then I'll trade you, Bassett. I'll come over with what I know, if
you'll tell me one thing. What sent him into hiding for ten years, and
makes him turn up now, yelling for help?"

Bassett reflected. The offer of a statement from Gregory was valuable,
but, on the other hand, he was anxious not to influence his narrative.
And Gregory saw his uncertainty. He planted himself firmly on the
pavement.

"How about it?" he demanded.

"I'll tell you this much, Gregory. He never meant to bring the thing up
again. In a way, it's me you're up against. Not Clark. And you can be
pretty sure I know what I'm doing. I've got Clark, and I've got the
report of the coroner's inquest, and I'll get Melis. I'm going to get to
the bottom of this if I have to dig a hole that buries me."

In a taxicab Gregory sat tense and erect, gnawing at his blond mustache.
After a time he said:

"What are you after, in all this? The story, I suppose. And the money. I
dare