The library door opened, and a slender, middle-aged man, weak-eyed and eye glassed, entered. In his hands was an envelope and an open letter. As Peter Winn's secretary it was his task to weed out, sort, and classify his employer's mail. "This came in the morning post," he ventured apologetically and with the hint of a titter. "Of course it doesn't amount to anything, but I thought you would like to see it." "Read it," Peter Winn commanded, without opening his eyes. The secretary cleared his throat. "It is dated July seventeenth, but is without address. Postmark San Francisco. It is also quite illiterate. The spelling is atrocious. Here it is:
"Mr. Peter Winn, SIR: I send you respectfully by express a pigeon worth good money. She's a loo-loo—" "What is a loo-loo?" Peter Winn interrupted. The secretary tittered. "I'm sure I don't know, except that it must be a superlative of some sort. The letter continues: "Please freight it with a couple of thousand-dollar bills and let it go. If you do, I won't never annoy you no more. If you don't you will be sorry.
"That is all. It is unsigned. I thought it would amuse you."

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MPAA: G
Go to source: https://www.commonlit.org/texts/winged-blackmail