“You are not at all sympathetic, Mr. Carter. Cannot you help me by asking questions?” Nick smiled. Her acting pleased him, it was so good. “I presume I can,” he said. “I suppose this is a case of blackmail.” “Horrid blackmail.” “What are the letters referred to?” “Mine, written before I was married.” “Why, then, should you fear to have your husband see them?” “Well, they are compromising—that is, some of them—that is, in a way. They were written while I was engaged to the one who is now my husband, to a man of whom my husband is now and always has been desperately jealous.” “Who is this Brown Robin?” “Don’t you know?” “I was asking if you knew.” “I only know that it is a name under which some one is making my life miserable. Who and what is the Brown Robin?” “A blackmailer, evidently. I have heard of the name as used by a person in various cities, and latterly in New York.” “Is it a man or a woman?” “The Brown Robin, I should judge, is a name used by a man and a woman, working together.” A faint smile flitted over the face of the lady. There was a moment’s silence. Then Nick asked: “How did these letters get into the possession of the Brown Robin?” “They were stolen from Mr. Collins.” “The man to whom they were written?” “Yes.” “By whom?” “By the Brown Robin, I suppose.” “How much money does she want?” “One thousand dollars.” “And you cannot pay it?” “I have no more money than my husband gives me, and he would find it difficult to raise so large a sum.” “Now, then, what is it you wish from me?” “Well, what am I to do?” “I think I should say that it is simply impossible—that you would find it difficult to raise a thousand cents. Convince these people of your inability to raise the money, and, as a rule, they drop the thing. It is the hope of getting money that makes them hold on.” “But cannot you give me some way of getting back those letters?” “Frankly, Mrs. Ansel, for that I take to be your name,” said Nick, “I don’t think the game is worth the candle. “If I were in your place, I should take a detective of the regular force with me to the appointed place, and when the blackmailer appeared, put him, or her, or them, under arrest. They would give up the letters to be released.” “Wouldn’t you go with me?” Immediately Nick thought he saw through the purpose of the call. It was the audacious effort of which he had spoken to Edith, of leading him into a compromising trap. It did not anger him, for he rather admired the boldness and audacity of it. However, his first impulse was to refuse, but his second thought was to see it out. He said: “I am a very busy man just now, and cannot control my time. What is the hour of this meeting, and where is it to be?” “The hour is eleven to-morrow, but I am to be informed early to-morrow morning of the place.” “Very well, I will go with you, if you inform me early enough.”