“Yes, I would like one.”
George produced one, and Andy paid for it. Then our hero, who had thought of a plan for carrying on a correspondence with his mother, asked:
“Would you be willing to do me a favor?”
“Of course I would,” said George, pleasantly—“that is, unless you want to borrow a thousand dollars,” he added, with a laugh. “I could not oblige you there.”
“It isn’t anything of that kind. I want to know if I may have a letter directed to me in your care?”
“Of course; but why don’t you have it sent to where you live?”
“There is an objection which I can’t mention just now.”
“Over at Cato. I am working for Mr. Brackett, a farmer.”
George whistled.