_Sir_:--I have received your letter warning me that if I use your name in a certain book of local history (said book entitled THE MAN) that you will cause my arrest for malicious libel, and also sue me for damages. To this I can only say that the book is now in the hands of the electrotypers, and I am not inclined to change a line in it, on your suggestion, even if I could. Please believe me, when I say, that I bear you no ill-will and have no desire to injure you or place you in a wrong light before the public, what I have written being but truth penned without exaggeration or coloring. I make no apology or excuse. What I have written I have written. Yours, etc., ASPASIA HOBBS. * * * * * LETTER NO. 3. BUFFALO, N. Y., July 3, 1891. TO JOHN BILKSON, of Hustler & Co., _Sir_:--Your registered letter of June 30th, received, wherein you state that you have no further use for my services, and that whereas you generally give an employee a letter of recommendation when you discharge them, yet in my case you cannot do so. Although I have made no request for such recommendation, I regret your conscience will not allow you to supply it. You remember the scene of five years ago in your office? No one knows a word of this, and never will, unless you tell it (which I hardly think you care to do). You swore then you would get even with me--is your vengeance now satisfied? I have no malice toward you--I cannot afford to have against anyone--although I must say that your action in deducting from my wages the price of one set of false teeth purchased from Dr. Poole is not exactly right. You know, Mr. Bilkson, you lost those teeth purely through accident and no one regretted the occurrence more than I. With best wishes for the continued prosperity of Hustler & Co., I remain, Yours, as ever, ASPASIA HOBBS. * * * * * THE MAN. CHAPTER I. MYSELF. What I have to write is of such great value, the circumstances so peculiar, the record so strange, and the truths so startling, that it is but proper I should explain who and what I am, in order that any person, so disposed, may fully verify for himself the things I am about to relate. Just at that most quiet hour of all the twenty-four, in the city, on a summer’s morning, when the darkness is stubbornly giving way to daylight, there came a violent ring at Mr. Hobbs’ door-bell, followed up with what seemed to be quite an unnecessary knocking. Mr. Hobbs was interested in an elevator, and when he heard that ring he was sure the elevator had burned--in fact, he had a presentiment that such would be the case; besides this, Mr. Hobbs always carried a goodly assortment of fears ready to use at any moment.