"Pay no attention to Times' story. Are you game for a
fight? Write me at once, and I'll start the campaign on the receipt of
your letter."
"Patty, where do you write letters?" he asked. He called her Patty
quite naturally. Patty was in no wise offended.
"In the reading-room you will find a desk with paper and pens and ink.
Shall I go with you?"
"Not at all. I've only a note to scribble to Senator Henderson."
Warrington found the desk. Upon it lay a tablet. He wrote hurriedly:
"Start your campaign; I am in it now to the last ditch."
As he re-read it, he observed a blur in the grain of the paper. On
closer inspection he saw that it was a water-mark. He had seen one
similar, but where? His heart began thumping his ribs. He produced the
inevitable letter. The water-mark was identical. He even laid the
letter unfolded on the tablet. It fitted exactly.
"Patty!" he murmured in a whisper.
Patty had never written him a single line; whenever she had
communicated to him her commands, it had been by telephone. Patty
Bennington! The window was at his elbow. He looked out and followed
the sky-line of the hills as they rolled away to the south.
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