This, however, presupposed the fact that he was writing to us over his
real name, which we did not believe he would dare to do. No one in our
little circle of journalists and literary men had ever heard of such a
man, and his name did not appear in the directory. This fact, however,
was not convincing in itself, as the residents of New York move from
flat to hotel, and from apartments to boarding-houses as frequently as
the Arab changes his camping-ground. We tried to draw him out at last by
publishing a personal paragraph which stated that several contributions
received from Edwin Aram would be returned to him if he would send
stamps and his present address. The editor did not add that he would
return the poems in person, but such was his warlike intention.

This had the desired result, and brought us a fourth poem and a fourth
address, the name of a tall building which towers above Union Square. We
seemed to be getting very warm now, and the editor gathered up the four
poems, and called to his aid his friend Bronson, the ablest reporter on
the New York ----, who was to act as chronicler. They took with them
letters from the authors of two of the poems and from the editor of the
magazine in which the first one had originally appeared, testifying to
the fact that Edwin Aram had made an exact copy of the original, and
wishing the brother editor good luck in catching the plagiarist.

The reporter looked these over with a critical eye. "The City Editor
told me if we caught him," he said, "that I could let it run for all it
was worth. I can use these names, I suppose, and I guess they have
pictures of the poets at the office. If he turns out to be anybody in
particular, it ought to be worth a full three columns. Sunday paper,
too."

The amateur detectives stood in the lower hall in the tall building,