I am _so_ glad you made your getaway. The lawyer told me about it.
You certainly were lucky. He tells me you are broke. I have been
worrying about this. He will take this letter out to post, but he
doesn't know what I am going to say to you. That's between ourselves.
I know I can count on you not to split on a pal. Burn this as soon as
you get the contents fixed in your mind.
I can't send you anything from here, because these devils have stripped
me. They have even taken my keys, so I can't send and get into my
safety deposit box for funds. But if you will help me, I'll be in a
position to do something handsome for you. I have a duplicate set of
keys that nobody knows about, and I want you to get them for me.
I enclose a letter to Mrs. Bradford who is the janitress of the house
at No. -- East Fifty-Ninth street. I kept a room there that I could go
to when I wanted to be quiet. Read the enclosed letter then seal it so
she will think you don't know what's in it. Do everything just as the
letter says. Don't forget that my name is Mrs. Watkins to this woman.
You will find fifty dollars in my pocketbook there. Give her thirty
for the rent and ten for herself. You keep the other ten. Get a
receipt for the rent.
The keys are in the pocketbook. Be very careful of them. In a few
days a man will call you up and ask you if you have them. You ask him
his name, and he will say Thomas Wilkinson. Then he will tell you what
to do, and you must obey him exactly. As soon as he gets the keys and
can open my box he will send you five thousand dollars in bills, which
will set you up in business or give you a good time, whichever you like.
If this turns out all right there will be a chance for you to make
other good things out of the crowd.