“Oh, Bob, please try and get those letters back,” she begged of him. “I’ll pay you well.”
“I don’t want any pay,” said Bob. “Here, Walter, you come with me and show me what you did with those letters.”
Bob caught hold of Walter’s hands, but the little fellow hung back.
“I don’t want to go,” he whimpered.
“Why not?” asked Bob.
“I’m all tired out.”
“I’ll carry you on my back part of the way,” promised Bob, “and I’ll make you a fine kite next Saturday.”
“Oh, goody! I’ll go, I’ll go,” cried Walter.
“Now, Miss Simmons, you go in the house and get some rest and quiet,” said Bob.
“Do you think you can get the letters back?” asked Miss Simmons, anxiously.