McClure’s Magazine/New Series Volume 1/Number 1/Blackmail

Blackmail
By Sapper
THE letter came to me as a voice from the dead. At first the handwriting on the envelope seemed strange, and then after staring at it for a few seconds I remembered. There was the same decisive cross to the T's; the same little flourish to the Esqr. Only I hadn't seen that writing for almost twenty years, and one is apt to forget.
The postmark was New York, and with the letter still unopened in my hand I sat staring out of the window. So Jim Featherstone was in America—the man who at one time had been my greatest friend. Was now for that matter, as far as I was concerned; it was not through any wish of mine that we had lost touch with one another after the tragedy had happened and Jim had paid the price. I'd tried—heaven knows—hard enough to find the dear old chap, but every time I'd come up against a blank wall.
And after a time I'd given it up, a little hurt, a little offended. He knew where I was, and if he didn't choose to write or come and see me, the choice was his. And now here in my hand I held the answer to my search; at last Jim had broken the silence.
Unconsciously my thoughts drifted backwards to that dreadful time twenty years ago. Every detail o

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