"I s'pose it would be a worse job yet to miss two of 'em--wouldn't it?"
said Phil with a perfectly grave face.

"Phil Davids!" Reuben exclaimed, facing round upon him, with such a
flash of joy and hope and surprise and eagerness, as made Phil wonder.
"What do you mean?" he added checking himself. "Just turn your pockets
inside out, Phil, before we go any further."

"When were you at the post-office?"

"Last night--and this morning." Reuben forced himself to be quiet.

"Well look here,--when you go there, don't you ask for letters?"

"Ask!--I've asked till they were all out of patience."

"Suppose you come to the right shop next time!" said Phil, importantly
producing the missing papers.

"Phil! Phil!--" was all Reuben said. He caught the letters--and stood
looking at them with a face that made Phil look. "Mr. Linden will love
you all his life for this. But how in the world did you get them?"

"That's exactly what I'd like somebody to tell me!" said Phil. "I know
who put the monkey's paw in the fire--but how the chestnuts got there,
I'm beat!"

"What do you know?" said Reuben,--"where did you get these? Oh Phil! I
never can thank you enough!"

"It was because they were _his_ letters I did it," said Phil bluntly.
"I wasn't going to let Mintie Tuck have 'em. But I say, Reuben! what
have you done to spite her? or has she a spite against Mr. Linden? or
who has she a spite against?"

"I don't know. Did _she_ give 'em to you, Phil?"

"Not by a precious sight nor to anybody else. Dromy saw 'em in her
drawer, and for all the gumph he is, he knew the writing; and I made
him get 'em for me this morning while they were at breakfast. Now
Taylor," said Phil settling his hands further down in his pockets as
they rapidly walked along,--"what bird's on _that_ nest?"

Reuben listened--with an intentness that spoke of more than wonder. "In
her _drawer?_" he repeated,--"what, down in the office?"

"Not a bit of it! Stowed away with her earrings and ribbands upstairs
somewhere."

"Phil," said Reuben when he had pondered this strange information in
silence for a minute, "will you be in the office when the mail comes in
for a night or two?--and don't tell this to any one till Mr. Linden
sends word what should be done."

"You expect more letters?" said Phil, with a not stupid glance at his
fellow.

"Yes," Reuben said, too frankly to increase suspicion; "and if one
should come it's very important that I should get it. And