He asked me one day if I was a man of business. I told him I was. He then asked me if I could make a copy of a note he had in his pocket, and show it to him the next time I should meet him, and not to say anything about it to anybody. I told him I would. He gave it to me, and it was something as follows--that is, substantially:-- Brooklyn, L. I., Jan. 6, 1855. Sir: I have received a package of papers for you from Liverpool, England, with six shillings charges thereon--on receipt of which amount the parcel will be sent to you by such conveyance as you may direct. Yours, respectfully, WILLIAM H. JOLLIET. I met him one or two days afterwards, and gave him his original, and my copy. He said it was very well done, but looked too much like a law-hand, and asked me if I couldn't write more of a mercantile-looking hand. I told him I supposed I could. He then gave me my copy, and told me to buy some paper, and make as many copies as I could, and direct them one to each of the names he gave me on a list, and mail them. I told him I would. This was on a Saturday evening; and on Sunday afternoon I wrote about a hundred copies of them, and directed them and sent them. I met him on Monday, and he asked me if I had done it. I told him I had; he then asked for the list of names he had given me, and I handed it to him. He asked if I knew the names I had directed the letters to. I told him I did not, although I did well, my suspicions about him having been aroused by his request for secrecy. On that Sunday on which I wrote the notes, I made up my mind to play traitor to him, by sending the notes as directed, and keeping all answers which he should get (he having told me to call for them at the Brooklyn Post Office), and then delivering them, with my evidence, to officer B----, in New York, whom I know well by reputation as a good officer, and an American in fact and principle. This was foiled by my disclosures to the Post Master of Brooklyn, on Thursday.