tly been applied to
the mass of papers but had only charred the corners of the envelopes.

"Oh what a careless Cousin Dink! Now we will see what we can find,"
whispered Josie.

The girl worked quickly and methodically, sorting out the letters and
putting them in neat packets and snapping rubber bands around them. She
examined the seemingly worthless accumulation of advertisements and
circulars, saving the envelopes wherever the date and postoffice stamp
were legible. Every scrap of paper in the heaped fireplace was
carefully scrutinized. What she deemed worthless was finally put back,
care being taken to pull the mass apart so that the grate seemed to be
as full as before.

"That Betty is too noticing to be careless," Josie reflected.

She then sat down by the window and began piecing together the letters
Cousin Dink had taken the trouble to tear up.

"She had a reason for tearing up some and not bothering about others."

The ones that were mutilated were all in the same handwriting.
Fortunately for Josie's patience they were not torn in very small
pieces. Fitting them together was not a difficult task for one so alert
and quick fingered as our little detective. In several instances the
letter had been torn and the pieces all put back in the envelope. That
made plain sailing indeed for the puzzle worker.

These letters that so especially interested our Josie were signed in
various ways but always with the same flourish of the pen: "Yours
always, C. H." "Lovingly, Ches." "Hastily, C." Several were signed:
"Chester Hunt." The letters were a strange mixture of love and
business. They commenced sometimes "Dear Coz:" sometimes "My own Dink:"
or "My own dear girl:" Always, while they were more or less
affectionate, Josie could read between the lines that this Chester Hunt
could command Cousin Dink to do as he chose. Whether he controlled her
by affection or whether by some other force it was hard to say.
Sometimes his tone was frankly impatient but he usually ended up such
epistles with repeated assurances of affection. Through the
correspondence Josie traced much in regard to Peter and Polly. There
was one telegram in which this Chester Hunt had summoned the woman to
Atlanta. That was dated about a year before.

"Come--I need you--C. H." That was all.

"That must have been when she went and got the poor kids," Josie
decided. "But there is one thing that is worrying me: why should this
Dink have saved all these let