On the morning of the third of January the mail which reached Mr. Barnes contained several letters of interest to those who follow this history. The first which he opened was very brief. It read: "If Mr. Barnes will call at his earliest convenience he will greatly oblige EMILY REMSEN." He read this twice, and then took up another, which was as follows: "J. BARNES, ESQ.: "DEAR SIR: I take the liberty of recalling to your mind the conversation which I had with you last month. I regret very much that I should have hinted that there was any possibility that my friend Mr. Mitchel might be implicated in the Pullman car robbery. As you know, Miss Emily Remsen was robbed at the festival, night before last, of a ruby pin worth $20,000. It is very evident to my mind that Mr. Mitchel's hand is in this. I know that he pretends to be sick at a hotel in Philadelphia, but may not that be a humbug? It would have been easy enough for him to slip over, don one of the Forty Thieves dominos, take the gem, and get back to Philadelphia the same night. This would be a safe theft for him to commit, especially as he may have the assistance of Miss Remsen. Now as all is fair in a bet, I want you to undertake to prove for me that Mr. Mitchel committed this theft. I want to win that wager from him, and don't mind spending money. Even if I should advance you the whole thousand, I should save my own, provided you convict him within a year. Besides, the satisfaction to me would be worth the money. It takes a sharp man to get ahead of Mr. Mitchel. I enclose a check for two hundred, as a sort of retainer, and you may draw on me for more, up to one thousand dollars if you should need it. By the way, whilst writing to you I may as well confess that I was wrong in my suspicion of Mr. Thauret. I am sure that he does not cheat at cards. I have watched him frequently since then, and he certainly plays a square game. I have no reason for liking the man, and as a fact dislike him most heartily. Nevertheless justice compels me to retract the imputation which I put upon him. Another thing: the partner with whom he played that night I told you was unknown to me. I have since made his acquaintance, and though he is poor, he is a gentleman, and above suspicion. His name is Adrian Fisher. Hoping you will help me to win my wager, Yours truly, "ARTHUR RANDOLPH." "So," thought Mr. Barnes, "even Mr. Randolph sees through the transparent scheme of being sick in Philadelphia and stealing his sweetheart's jewelry in New York. It is one thing to see the trick, however, and quite another to prove it. He thinks that Thauret and Fisher are both virtuous. Well, I am afraid he is mistaken there." He took up another letter. It read: