"I know it, Curly," says she, looking at me sudden. "I love you for it.
You're one grand man, Curly!"

"I'm one worried man," says I. "I've gone back on my job with your pa."

"Do you feel that way, Curly?" says she, and she looked scared. "And is
that my fault?"

"I shore do and it shore is," says I.

"But you haven't said a word."

"No--not yet."

"Don't, Curly!" says she, right quick. "Don't--oh, please don't!"

She puts her hand on my arm then and looks into my eyes.

She had me buffaloed right there. I couldn't get her hand off'n my arm.
I couldn't help patting it when it laid there.

"Aw, shucks!" says I to her. "Come now!"

Right then our William he come in at the door, and stood there and
coughed like he done when he had anything on his mind.

"Ahum!" says he, sad like.

"What is it, William?" says Bonnie Bell, looking round at him.

"Beg pardon, ma'am, but might Hi speak with Mr. Wilson for a moment?"

You see, he called me Mr. Wilson, that being my last name. It was in the
Bible, or else I probably would of forgot it.

"Oh, all right," says I; and I got up and went out with him.

He was standing in his little hall when I come out, and he has our
Boston dog, Peanut, tied to a chair leg there with a piece of rope.
Peanut barked joyful at me, thinking I was going to take him outdoors
maybe.

"Hexcuse me, sir," says William, right sad, "but this little dog is a
hobject of my suspicion, sir."

"What's that?" says I. "What do you suspect him of--embeazlement,
maybe?"

William he stoops down then and unties something that Peanut has
fastened in his collar. It was a envelope. It didn't have no name on it.

"This is the third one Hi found on 'im," says William. "Hi 'ave the
other two in my desk. Hi don't know, sir, for whom they may be
hintended, sir."

"Well, who sent 'em? Is anybody going to blow up our place unlessen we
put twelve thousand dollars under a stone on the front sidewalk?"

"That's what Hi wish to hinquire, sir. Hi became alarmed," says William.
"Hi thought Hi'd awsk you about it, sir, Mr. Wright not being at 'ome."

"Why didn't you awsk Miss Wright?" says I.

"Hi didn't wish to alarm her, possibly."

We stood there, with this letter in our hands, looking it over.

"You say you don't know where this dog's been?" says I.

"Oh, no, sir; quite the contrary. I don't doubt he's often been through
the--ahum!--ahum!----"

"Well, how often has he been through the ahum, Willia