The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1922-02-04
What Happened in the Home When an
Anonymous Letter Came TO Madae.

Only one letter for you, Margaret
and such a queer looking thing. Really,
should almost be afraid it carried
disease germs, it's so terribly soiled.''
Cousin Agatha advanced toward me
her outstretched hand gingerly holding
la letter whose appearance justified her
criticism. 1t was the cheapest possi-
Bile sort. Of envelope. and it looked as
if it had been carefully rubbed in dust
to get it as dirty as possible.
I flushed resentfully, as 1 generally
do at Cousin Agatha's remarks. Her
tone intinated that must have some
extremely undesirable acquaintance
somewhere. But although had no pos
sible idea as to the sender of the let
ter. my pride wouldn't allow me to
crafty her petty malice by telling her
so. She would have taken it as a BIT
of Difference on my part to her opiu-
ion. Therefore, I slipped il into the
pocket of my sweater without a second
glance and went on with the bit OF
mending I had in my hands until I
had chance to slip away into my
room.
didn't stop to analyze the instinct
that made me turn the key in the lock
and lean against the door, breathing
heavily as IL I had been running hard.
Instinctively I felt that within the
greasy, dirty envelope in my pocket
was some message of evil for me.
took it out and looked at the super
scription carefully:
Mrs. Richard Graham,
Chase avenue,
Marvin, L. l.
Chase avenue! Then it was from
someone who knew that we had moved
recently. The postmark was Hoboken,
and I ransacked my memory to see IL
could find any recollection of any
person from there, but to no avail. or
course, the sensible procedure would
have been to open the envelope at once
and find out what the letter contained.
but an indefinable reluctance made me
postpone the opening as long as posi-
BILE.
examined the handwriting care
fully. 1t was evidently that of per-
son rather unused to writing, and the
characters were rather shakily made.
looked more closely and decided that a
child's hand had directed the envelope.
More puzzled than ever. / slowly slit
the envelope and drew out the en-
closure.
1t was a half sheet of the cheapest
kind of note paper, absolutely blank,
evidently put in the envelope for the
sole reason of protecting the short
newspaper clipping it enclosed.
The clipping was from a New York
newspaper and bore the heading
short Shrift for Spanish Spy" The
story bore a Paris date line and was
the story of a man of mixed German
and Spanish parentage-but who had
lived for years in F'rance-who had
been discovered in reasonable prac-
tees and summarily executed.
There was no name or initial on the
clipping. but the words of the headline
were underlined in red ink. and there
was a wavy line of red ink drawn
around the entire margin OF the clip
ping.
1 read the thing through and then
turned 1t over and over in my hands.
infinitely examining it for trace that
might suggest the identity of the send
er, but to no avail. II might have
dropped from the clouds for any evil
dence it betrayed OF the hand that had
started IL on dts mission.
was thoroughly puzzled, and al
though I tried to deny it to myself. a
bit frightened by this newspaper clip
ping sent in so strange a manner.
tried TO reassure myself with the ar
gument that perhaps the man spoken
of in the dispatch was known TO some
other Mrs. Richard Graham, who might
live in 4 village OF Long Island with
a name similar to Marvin.
But I knew, even as it flashed into
my mind that it was a most far
fetched. well-nigh impossible explana-
ton. The clipping was meant for me.
Then 1 thought of a conversation the
Durkees and Dicky and had once had
concerning spy activities. I had ex-
pressed rather decided opinion that
this country was honeycombed with
them. Alfred Durkee had laughed up
roariously at my structures. pretend
ing that he would be afraid to come to
my house any more. for fear that I
would suspect him Of reasonable ac-
tivities, and warning his mother with
burlesdued solemnIty to mind her p's
and q's' when she was with me, or
she'd find herself marched off to
prison.
1t must be Alfred Durkee who had
sent me the clipping I decided with a
sigh of relief, and started TO tear It
up and throw it into my waste paper
basket. But some impulse made me
lock it up in my desk instead. And