plied Curtis. "I dropped
into Young's as I came up and took an eye-opener. What's the matter, old
fellow, breach of promise?"

Quincy took a seat near Curtis's desk.

"No," said he, "it's a case of animosity carried beyond the grave."

"Oh! I see," said Curtis, "party cut off with a shilling, going to try
and break the will?"

"Have a cigar?" asked Quincy. "While you are lighting it and getting it
under way I may slide in and get a chance to state my business."

"Oh! you want to do the talking?" said Curtis good humoredly. "Well, go
ahead, old man;" and he leaned back and smoked complacently.

Quincy then related as much as he thought necessary of the story of the
sealed letter, and as he concluded he took the package from his pocket
and placed it on the corner of the lawyer's desk.

"You are doing just right," said Curtis; "the probate judges nowadays
are looking more carefully at wills, especially when their provisions
indicate that the signer was more red Indian than white Christian. I
understand you perfectly," he continued; "what you wish me to do is to
put this letter in an envelope, seal it securely, and endorse upon it
these words, 'To be delivered only to Miss Lindy Putnam upon the written
order of Miss Alice Pettengill.'"

"That's it exactly," said Quincy; "only I wish a receipt from you for
the document."

"Certainly," replied Curtis. As he raised the lid of his old-fashioned
desk the letter fell to the floor. The envelope had received rough
treatment in its progress from hand to hand, and it was not strange that
when it struck the floor one corner was split open by the fall.

As Quincy stooped to pick it up, he noticed that something that
resembled a small piece of white cloth dropped from the broken corner of
the envelope. When he picked it up to replace it, he saw that it was a
small piece of white cotton cloth, and his quick eye caught the name
"Linda Fernborough" stamped thereon with indelible ink. He said nothing,
but replacing the piece of cloth passed the package to Curtis, who
enclosed, sealed, and endorsed it, and gave a receipt therefor to
Quincy.

"I will put this in my big steel vault," said he, as he went into
another room.

Quincy knew that Curtis would accept no fee for such a slight service,
so placing a five dollar greenback under a paperweight, he quietly left
the office and was out of sight long before Curtis, with the bill in his
hand, ran down stairs, bareheaded, and looke