“He's been holdin' it up to the light for the last ha'f hour,” sneered Captain Jerry. “Anybody 'd think it had a million dollars in it. For the land's sake, open it, Eri, 'fore he has a fit!”
Captain Eri picked up the letter, looked it over very deliberately, and then tore off the end of the envelope. The inclosure was another sheet of note paper like the first epistle. The Captain took out his spectacles, wiped them, and read the following aloud:
“CAPTAIN JEREMIAH BURGESS.
“Sir: I like your looks well enough, though it don't pay to put too much dependence in looks, as nobody knows better than me. Besides, I judge that picture was took quite a spell ago. Anyway, you look honest, and I am willing to risk money enough to carry me to Orham and back, though the dear land knows I ain't got none to throw away. If we don't agree to sign articles, I suppose likely you will be willing to stand half the fare. That ain't any more than right, the way I look at it. I shall come to Orham on the afternoon train, Thursday. Meet me at the depot.
“Yours truly,
“MARTHA B. SNOW.
“P. S.—I should have liked it better if you was a Methodist, but we can't have everything just as we want it in this world.”
Nobody spoke for a moment after the reading of this intensely practical note. Captain Eri whistled softly, scratched his head, and then read the letter over again to himself. At length Captain Perez broke the spell.
“Jerusalem!” he exclaimed. “She don't lose no time, does she?”
“She's pretty prompt, that's a fact,” assented Captain Eri.