The woman still held on to the other end of the letter.
"It comes," continued Si, "from a man a little under medium size, with black hair and eyes, dresses well, talks fast, and speaks a Dutch brogue."
"That's him," said the woman, relinquishing the letter, and taking a seat under the shade of a young cucumber tree, where she proceeded to fill her pipe, while awaiting the reading of the missive.
Si stepped off a little ways, and Shorty looked over his shoulder as he opened the letter and read:
"Dear Boys: This will be handed you, if it reaches you at
all, by Mrs. Bolster, who has more about her than you
think."
"I don't know about that," muttered Shorty; "the last time I had the pleasure o' meetin' the lady she had 'steen dozen bottles o' head-bust about her."
"She's a Confederate, as far as she goes."
Si continued reading,
"which is not very far. She don't go but a little ways. A
jay-bird that did not have any more brains would not build
much of a nest. But she is very useful to me, and I want you
to get in with her. As soon as you read this I want Si to
give her that pair of horn combs I gave him. Do it at once.
Sincerely your friend,
"Levi Rosenbaum."
Si knit his brows in perplexity and wonderment over this strange message. He looked at Shorty, but Shorty's face was as blank of explanation as his own. He fumbled around in his blouse pocket, drew forth the combs, and handed them to the woman. Her dull face lighted up visibly. She examined the combs carefully, as if fitting them to a description, and, reaching in her bosom, pulled out another letter and handed it to Si.