“It’s queer we don’t get some more letters,” grumbled the senator’s son one day.
“Were you looking for a letter from your folks?” questioned Dave slyly.
“You know well enough what I was looking for,” answered Roger, his face growing a bit red. “You didn’t get any letter from Jessie, did you?”
“Not since the day you got one from Laura, and the day that one came from your mother.”
“What do you make of it, Dave? They must have gotten our letters.”
“Maybe not, Roger. Just the same, I think the girls would have written even if they didn’t get our letters.”
“Do you suppose anything has gone wrong?”
“I don’t know what to suppose.”
“Maybe we ought to send a telegram,” suggested the senator’s son, after a pause.
“Oh, there’s no use of scaring them with a telegram, Roger. Let us wait a few days longer. We may get some letters to-morrow.”