AM.

Jack Rotheram wrote:

DEAR X.,

"My sister Mary has said who I am, but she has not explained how it is
I am here. It is because my brother William and I tossed up for it; He
called 'Heads,' and it was tails, so I won at once. And then he said
'Threes,' which means the best out of three, and this time he called
'Tails' and it was heads, so that settled the thing absolutely. He was,
of course, most frightfully sick about it, but the next time the
Avories go out in the caravan they are going to ask him and not me,
which will put the thing right. It is a ripping caravan, and I am sure
I thank you very much, although it's not mine.

"Yours truly,

"JOHN ILFORD ROTHERAM.

Robert, who was not a sprightly writer, merely described the course
they had followed, which we all know. The only news he had to give was
at the end: "So far, up to the time of writing, my pedometer registers
fifty-six miles; which is, of course, only what I have walked, and not
what we have done, for we all take turns to ride for fear of getting
too tired and being seedy. The caravan has done altogether one hundred
and forty miles, and since we were in it ninety miles exactly."

Horace, after great difficulty, wrote:

DEAR X.,

"I am having a top-hole holiday in the caravan you gave the Avories. I
am the Keeper of the Tin-opener.

"Yours truly,

HORACE CAMPBELL.

Hester wrote:

DEAR X.,

"I have long wanted to write to you and tell you that we adore the
Slowcoach, which is the name we have given your caravan, and think you
were awfully clever to think of it and to make it so complete.

We have not had to buy anything, and the only thing you forgot was the
license; but Uncle Christopher remembered. I love walking behind the
Slowcoach and seeing the world pass by. But the evenings are the most
alluring, and I like to wake up at night and hear the birds and animals
just outside the window, although on the first night I was frightened.
We had one evening with real gipsies, but Janet would not allow me to
go inside their caravan, because of fleas and things. But I could see
through the door that it was not so attractive as the Slowcoach. I wish
this journey would never end, but I fear it has to do so on Tuesday,
which draws nearer every moment.

"I am,

"Your grateful and admiring friend,

HESTER MARGARET AVORY.

"P.S.--I hope we shall never know who you are, because anonymous things
are so much more exciting.

"P.S. 2