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He turned away from the unsolvable riddle of the strange constellations; and went to his cabin, to dream of the green star Meristem where he had first plotted known coordinates for a previously unknown world, and to wander in baffling nightmares where he fed jagged, star-colored pieces of hail into the ship's computer and watched them come out as tiny paperdoll spaceships with the letterhead of Eight Colors printed neatly across their sides.
The letter was written on the letterhead of the Beatrice Corn Mills, Incorporated, Beatrice, Nebraska, and in the upper left-hand corner, in small type, appeared "James Torrance, Sr., President and General Manager," and this is what he read: Dear Jim You have graduated I didn't think you would with honors in football, baseball, prize-fighting, and five thousand dollars in debt.
"Is it something in connection with that forged letter to Mallowe?" asked Ramon quickly. "Perhaps," the detective admitted. He shrugged, then added leniently, "I think, before proceeding any further with that branch of the investigation, it would be well to know who obtained the notepaper with the hotel letterhead, and if the paper itself was genuine.
He had just come in and was looking over his mail. The letterhead bore the name of the Five-Borough Company. It was from Jack Orton, one of our intimates at college, who was in charge of the construction of a new tunnel under the river. It was brief, as Jack's letters always were. "I have a case here at the tunnel that I am sure will appeal to you, my own case, too," it read.
"Hey, this is a barbershop, and it's closed for the night." Rick looked, then switched on the dome light. He compared the letterhead number and the number on the door. Clearly, it was 5022, unless they had mistaken threes for twos. The only difference between the two numbers was an extra squiggle in the upper line of the three. He checked the letter again. No, they were twos. He said so.
"Might be a slip by the fool engraver," thinks I. "I'll look it up in the directory." And the directory agreed with the letterhead. "Oh, ho!" says I. "Pullin' the old stuff, eh? Easy enough to drop into the Consul's office and dash off a note to anybody. Say, lemme at this Schott person." No, I didn't call in Pat, the porter, and have him give Mr. Schott a flyin' start down the stairs.
Bart took it, his heart suddenly pounding, and walked away through the groups of officers and crew eagerly debating how they would spend their port leave. He knew what it would be. It was on the letterhead of Eight Colors, and it contained no message. Only an address and a time. He slipped away unobserved to the Mentorian part of the ship to borrow a cloak from Meta.
He placed the lamp where the light fell full upon the paper and studied the letterhead for several minutes, scowling. Tomaso, he decided, had remarkably sharp eyes. Seen from that angle, the letterhead was not conspicuous. The volplaning machine was not at all striking to the eye.
When the salesmen approached the Mayor, they had not only the long and imposing list of names on the letterhead but additional letters of introduction from ex-Governor Curley of Mass., ex-Senator Robinson of Indiana and Congressman Martin Dies of Texas.
In a letter written not on the official White House letterhead, but on his personal "up-stairs" stationery, as it is called, he asks: "Will you do me the favor of reading the enclosed to see if it is worthy of your acceptance for the Journal, or whether you think it indicates that the writer, with a few directions and suggestions, might be useful to you?
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