“Or, if you prefer,” Nick cut in impressively, “I will send Chick to Judge Barclay, of the local court, and get from him a special order to open the letter. He is corporation counsel for the S. & O. Railway Company and will have a very keen appreciation of the circumstances. Bear in mind, too, that the letter is not to be held up permanently. It will be delayed only a very few minutes, and the recipient will be none the wiser. I can open and reseal the letter without his even suspecting it.” “Very well,” Holden said reluctantly. “You get an order from the court, Mr. Carter, and I will yield to your wishes.” “Attend to it, Chick,” said Nick, turning to his assistant. “State the circumstances to Judge Barclay and bring the order here as quickly as possible. You will have no trouble in getting it.” “Surely not,” Chick agreed, rising to go. “He has absolutely confidence in your judgment. I’ll return within a quarter hour.” “You have ample time,” put in Holden. “The mail will not be in for nearly half an hour.” “Very good,” said Nick. “In the meantime, Patsy, you go to the Reddy House and see what you can learn about Gus Dewitt. You will probably find him there, for he must be expecting the special-delivery letter and should be waiting for it.” “Sure thing, chief, if the game is what you suspect,” Patsy declared. “Be off, then, and phone me here,” Nick directed. “Make sure you do nothing to arouse his suspicions.” “Trust me for that.” “Look up Dalton, also, and see what you can learn about him. Call me up in half an hour for further instructions.” “I’ve got you, chief,” said Patsy, hastening to depart. Nick waited patiently. Postmaster Holden appeared nervous and uncertain. He was relieved in about fifteen minutes, however, by the return of Chick, bringing from the magistrate the order Nick had requested. Ten minutes later a mail wagon rattled into the post-office yard, and Holden went to bring all of the special-delivery letters to his private office. There proved to be only six of them, and the one referred to in the telegram was easily determined. It bore the Philadelphia postmark and was addressed to Gus Dewitt, at the Reddy House. “How can you open and reseal it?” Holden questioned doubtfully, while the detective examined the letter. “Very easily,” said Nick. “So that it will not be detected?” “Surely. A little steam will turn the trick, no wax having been applied to the flap of the envelope. Your radiator will serve us. We’ll find out in about two minutes what this letter contains.” Nick arose while speaking and stepped to the radiator. He turned the key of the small air tube and opened the valve. A faint blowing and sputtering ensued, soon followed by the ejection of a slender stream of steam.