een enabled to put off the examination for a few days, Mr.
Stephens returned to his office, and found lying upon his table the packet
of letters he was expecting from New York.

Upon breaking the seal, and tearing off the outer covering, he discovered a
number of letters, time-worn and yellow with age; they were tied tightly
together with a piece of cord; cutting this, they fell scattered over the
desk.

Taking one of them up, he examined it attentively, turning it from side to
side to endeavour to decipher the half-effaced post-mark. "What a ninny I
am, to waste time in looking at the cover of this, when the contents will,
no doubt, explain the whole matter?" Thus soliloquising he opened the
letter, and was soon deeply absorbed in its contents. He perused and
re-perused it; then opened, one after another, the remainder that lay
scattered before him. Their contents seemed to agitate him exceedingly; as
he walked up and down the room with hasty strides, muttering angrily to
himself, and occasionally returning to the desk to re-peruse the letters
which had so strangely excited him.

Whilst thus engaged, the door was opened by no less a personage than Mr.
Morton, who walked in and seated himself in a familiar manner.

"Oh, how are you, Morton. You entered with such a ghostly tread, that I
scarcely heard you," said Mr. Stevens, with a start; "what has procured me
the honour of a visit from you this morning?"

"I was strolling by, and thought I would just step in and inquire how that
matter respecting the Tenth-street property has succeeded."

"Not at all--the old fellow is as obstinate as a mule; he won't sell except
on his own terms, which are entirely out of all reason. I am afraid you
will be compelled to abandon your building speculation in that quarter
until his demise--he is old and feeble, and can't last many years; in the
event of his death you may be able to effect some more favourable
arrangement with his heirs."

"And perhaps have ten or fifteen years to wait--no, that won't do. I'd
better sell out myself. What would you, advise me to do, Stevens?"

Mr. Stevens was silent for a few moments; then having opened the door and
looked into the entry, he closed it carefully, placed the piece of sponge
in the key-hole, and returned to his seat at the desk, saying:--

"We've transacted enough business together to know one another pretty well.
So I've no hesitation in confiding to you a little scheme I've conceived