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All of which relieved Mr. Harold Bince's elastic conscience of any feeling of
responsibility in the matter. Whatever Murray did was no business of his. He was
glad that Murray hadn't told him.
He greeted Jimmy Torrance almost affably, but he lost something of his self-
composure when Mason Compton arrived at the office, for Bince had been sure
that his employer would be laid up for at least another week, during which time
Murray would have completed his work.
The noon mail brought a letter from Murray.
"Show the enclosed to Compton," it read. "Tell him you found it on your desk, and
destroy this letter." The enclosure was a crudely printed note on a piece of soiled
wrapping-paper:
TREAT YOUR MEN RIGHT OR
CONSEQUENCES I. W. W.
SUFFER THE
Bince laid Murray's letter face down upon the balance of the open mail, and sat
for a long time looking at the ominous words of the enclosure. At first he was
inclined to be frightened, but finally a crooked smile twisted his lips. "Murray's
not such a fool, after all," he soliloquized.
"
He's framing an alibi before he starts."
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