"He's an inquisitive sort of a fellow, I've found," Fred went on; "and I've even seen him reading post cards that pass through. Stop and think, Kate, did he mention the fact to you that you were getting a foreign letter this time?"
"Why, yes, that is just what he did, Fred," Kate answered quickly; "how could you guess such a thing now?"
"Oh! I just remembered hearing him make remarks to several persons when they came for mail, which told me Mr. Sam Smalling kept tabs on about all that went on in Riverport. It must keep his brain working all the time, trying to remember when Susie Green expects a letter from her aunt away up in Basking Ridge; and if Eph Smith has written home to his ma regularly once a month. But joking aside, sis, what did he say to you about it?"
"Why, as near as I can remember, Fred, he only remarked that he noticed our far-away cousin in Hong Kong had finally taken a notion to write to us. I thought he was trying to be smart, you know; and to carry the joke along I laughed, and said it was too mean for anything the way Cousin Jim had treated us for a long time; and that it was about time he wrote."
"Splendid!" exclaimed Fred, laughing. "And what did he say to that, Kate?"
"I didn't wait to hear," she replied; "but when I went out of the door I looked back, and saw Mr. Smalling patting himself, as if he thought he had the greatest mind ever, to be able to just guess everything."
"Well, I reckon you've spiked his guns, then," Fred went on. "You see, he has a younger brother who trains with that crowd of Buck's; and I didn't know but that Sam might make some mention of the mysterious letter we got to-day from the other side of the world. And then, in some way, it might get around to the ears of Buck, who would carry it to his father; because, I guess every little thing about the Fentons is of some interest up there at the big house."
"Fred, if you make up your mind to be a lawyer, I think you have a future ahead of you," declared his father, proudly; "because your reasoning powers are first-class. But the chances of the post office clerk mentioning the fact now are so remote, that we need not give it a thought."
The evening that followed was one of the happiest the Fentons had known for a long time. There was much to talk about, and a spirit of coming joy seemed to pervade the very atmosphere of that humble cottage home, that certainly never brooded over the much more pretentious establishment of Sparks Lemington.
And when, rather later than usual, Fred went up to his small room close under the rafters, where rainy nights he could listen to the patter of the drops on the roof just over his head, he believed that he must be the happiest boy in all Riverport.