"From whom did it come?"
"I don't remember."
Carver did remember, but for obvious reasons did not think it best to acquaint Mr. Graves.
"That is remarkable," thought Mr. Graves, as he walked home. "Grit is a smart boy, but such offers are not often made by strangers to a boy of fifteen. I must speak to Clark about it."
He found Mr. Clark at his house. He was the quiet man who had been employed by the bank as a detective, and who had come to report to the president.
There was a look of intelligence as he listened to the news about Grit.
"I tell you what I think of it," he said. "The rascals have found out the part which Grit took in circumventing them, and this letter is part of a plot. They mean the boy mischief."
"I hope not," said Mr. Graves anxiously. "I am attached to Grit, and I wouldn't have harm come to him for a good deal."
"Leave the matter in my hands. I will take the next train for Boston, and follow this clue. It may enable me to get hold of this Johnson, who is a dangerous rascal, because he has brains."