I leave it to you, dear John, why should we not have laughed over such
a preposterous communication? The idea, we could not but grant, was well
conceived, but it was too grotesque to be taken seriously. Mr. Hale said
he would preserve it as a literary curiosity, and shoved it away in a
pigeonhole. Then we promptly forgot its existence. And as promptly, on
the 1st of October, going over the morning mail, we read the following:
OFFICE OF THE M. OF M., October 1, 1899.
MR. EBEN HALE, Money Baron:
Dear Sir,—Your victim has met his fate. An hour ago, on East
Thirty-ninth Street, a workingman was thrust through the heart with a
knife. Ere you read this his body will be lying at the Morgue. Go and
look upon your handiwork.
On October 14th, in token of our earnestness in this matter, and in case
you do not relent, we shall kill a policeman on or near the corner of
Polk Street and Clermont Avenue.
Very cordially,