The conversation that followed we do not propose to chronicle. The results will appear hereafter. Enough that Gilbert and Micky departed mutually satisfied, the latter the richer by five times his usual fee.
CHAPTER XII.
DICK FALLS INTO A TRAP.
One evening, when Dick and Fosdick returned from their respective stores, a surprise awaited them.
"The postman left some letters for you," said the servant, as she opened the door to admit them.
"Maybe they're from the tax-collectors," said Dick. "That's the misfortun' of being men of property. What was your tax last year, Fosdick?"
"I don't remember such trifles," said Fosdick.
"I don't think they was taxes," said the girl, seriously; "they looked as if they was from a young lady."
"Very likely they are from Fosdick's wife," said Dick. "She's rusticatin' in the country for the benefit of her health."