“What! Where did I put that?” muttered Tom, uneasily.
“What was it?” asked Joe Dawson, curiously.
But his chum, instead of replying, rapidly explored all his pockets, then hunted busily about the room.
“It must be something mighty important, whatever it is,” smiled Joe.
“It is,” was all Tom vouchsafed. Then, unable to discover any trace of the letter, Halstead turned to his comrade with a blank face.
“What have you lost?” demanded Joe Dawson, struck by Tom’s serious look.
“I—I guess I won’t speak about it, until I find it,” responded Halstead, slowly, in a dazed, wondering voice. He felt as though passing through some dream. Had he really received such a letter? But of course he had.
“Oh, just as you like,” responded Joe, readily.
“Wait!” begged Tom. “I want to look—and think—before I say a word, even to you, old fellow.”
“All right, then,” nodded Joe, patiently.