“’M—what kind of a letter?”
“Oh, a blue envelope, with probably a card inside. I hadn’t opened it, so I don’t know what was in it.”
“Who was it from?”
“Why, how could I tell, when I hadn’t opened it! In fact, that’s just what I want to know.”
“What makes you think I know anything about it?”
“Oh, Chub, don’t tease me! I haven’t time, now; and truly, I want that letter! Do you know anything about it?”
“No, Patty, I don’t. I didn’t see any letters addressed to you, except the bunch you had in your hand. Have you really lost one?”
“Yes,” said Patty, seeing that Hal was serious. “Jim told me there was one for me from Mr. Farnsworth, and I want it.”
“Bill Farnsworth! What’s he writing to you for? I didn’t know you knew him.”
“I don’t know him very well; I only met him last summer. And I don’t know that he did write to me; it was probably just a card. But I want it.”