Chapter XXII: A Question of Color

After Owen had seen Jake Hines safely locked up in a local police station, he went back to Dallas to fulfill this mission which had brought him to Chicago. “I want you to explain to me about that letter you got from the mail box,” he said. “You got the wrong letter by a mistake, of course? Instead of the one which you had mailed to your brother, you got the pink envelope which the Reverend Doctor Moore dropped into the box?”

“Yes,” answered Dallas, “when the letter carrier opened the box and took out the mail, and I caught sight of that square, pink envelope lying on top of the heap, I jumped to the conclusion that it was mine, and I grabbed it and hurried away, fearing that he might change his mind about giving it to me. You see, Owen, I was very much excited. The letter which I had received from my scapegrace brother that day was very startling. It informed me that he was in great trouble, and was about to do something desperate--the letter didn’t state what--and that the only thing which could prevent him from taking this step was my coming to Chicago immediately. It warned me, too, that I mustn’t let a soul in New York know where I was going.”

“That was Hines’ work, of course,” said Owen. “He couldn’t come to you in New York, so he contrived that scheme to bring you out to him.”

“Yes; but I didn’t suspect anything like that. I was very much worried. From the tone of Chester’s letter I feared that he contemplated suicide, and I was awfully scared. But I didn’t very well see how I could get out to him, because”--she hesitated, and blushed painfully--“because I--I didn’t have the fare, Owen. I had been sending more than I could spare to Chester recently, to help him to get out of a scrape, and I was very hard up. So I had to write him that I was very sorry, but I really couldn’t come to Chicago.”

“And then?” said Owen eagerly.

“Then, after I had mailed that letter, I suddenly thought of the engagement ring which you had given to me, dear. I hated to pawn it, of course, but I was so scared about Chester, and I--I thought you wouldn’t mind, under the circumstances.”

“So that’s how you raised the fare to Chicago!” said Owen, with a smile of great relief.

“Yes; and when I found that I could go, naturally I wanted to get back that letter; for I feared the effect it might have upon my brother.”

“So you waited at the box until Pop Andrews came to collect the mail, and you prevailed upon him to violate the rules and let you have it, and he handed you the wrong letter,” said Owen. “So far, so good. And now, Dallas, when you found that you had the Reverend Doctor Moore’s pink envelope, with the hundred-dollar bill inside, what did you do with it?”

“When I got to my room at the boarding house, I started to tear the letter up without opening it, still thinking, of course, that it was the one which I had sent Chester. When I caught sight of the money inside, and realized the mistake I had made, I was in a quandary. The hundred-dollar bill and the letter which the envelope contained were each in four pieces. I was afraid to go to the post office and explain how it had happened, because I knew that if I did so it would get Carrier Andrews into trouble for violating the rules. So I decided to cut some sticking plaster into small strips, and paste the pieces together. I made quite a neat job of it; then I addressed a fresh envelope, inclosed the patched-up letter and hundred-dollar bill, and dropped it into a mail box.”

Owen drew a deep breath of relief. “And I suppose the envelope which you addressed was a white one?”

“Yes. I didn’t have any pink ones at the boarding house.”

“And that explains, of course, why they thought at Branch X Y that the letter was missing from the mail. Naturally they didn’t think to go through the white envelopes. No doubt by this time the Reverend Doctor Moore’s friend in Pennsylvania is in receipt of his hundred-dollar bill. Your explanation, Dallas, clears the mystery! What a gink I am not to have thought of that solution before!”

But suddenly a puzzled look came to Inspector Sheridan’s face. “There’s one point that isn’t cleared up yet: If you got the wrong pink envelope, Dallas, what became of the right one? The letter which you sent to your brother ought to have been in the mail still.”

“And so it was,” answered Dallas, with a smile. “When I reached here I found that Chester was already in receipt of it.”

“But how could that be? They searched all through the mail at Branch X Y, and failed to find any square, pink envelope.”

“The letter which Chester received was in a square, white envelope,” said Dallas. “I noticed that as soon as he showed it to me. And,” she went on, with a puzzled frown, “that’s something which I can’t understand at all. I know that it sometimes happens that in a box of colored stationery a white envelope will get mixed with the tinted ones, but I am ready to take oath that the envelope in which I inclosed Chester’s letter was pink. If it wasn’t so perfectly ridiculous I should be inclined to believe that it must have changed color while in the mail.”

“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Owen, an inspiration coming to him. “I think I’ve got the answer. This envelope was exactly the same shape and design as the rest in the box, wasn’t it, Dallas?”

“Yes; exactly the same as the others, except that it was white instead of pink.”

“And it appeared to you to be pink?”

“Yes; and I am not color blind--if that is what you are going to imply,” replied Dallas, mildly indignant.

“I’m not quite so sure of that,” said Owen, with a smile. “I’ll grant that you are not color blind under ordinary conditions, but these were not ordinary conditions.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It was a dark afternoon when you addressed that envelope, and the electric light over your desk at the office was turned on, wasn’t it?”

The girl nodded. “Yes, that’s so; but still----”

“And the electric globe over your desk throws such a strong light that you have a piece of paper around it to shade it, haven’t you, Dallas? A piece of red paper; I noticed it the other day.”

A look of enlightenment came to the girl’s face. “Why, yes; I understand how it happened now. That red shade around the electric light made that white envelope look pink, just like the rest.”

“Exactly!” cried Owen happily; “and that solves the mystery of the missing pink envelope. I’m mighty glad now that I followed you to Chicago, Dallas.”