“Tell me what it is you have found out,” cried Frank, sharply.
With frantic haste Barney tore something from his pocket and waved it wildly in the air.
“Here it is, me b’y!” he shouted.
“Yah, thar it vas!” squealed Hans.
“What is it? Give it to me!” commanded Frank.
Then he snatched the object from Barney’s hands.
It was a letter.
“Inza’s writing!” said Frank, hoarsely, as he glanced at it. “I would know it anywhere! A letter to you, Barney! When did you receive this?”
“In th’ mornin’ mail, me b’y, afther Oi got up. So ye say it is well Oi overslipt mysilf, or Oi would not have bin there to recave th’ mail whin it was delivered.”
The envelope had been torn open in a ragged manner, showing Barney had opened it with great haste.