“Double it!” cried Sid promptly.
“Oh, it’s a letter,” spoke Phil, as he strode over to his bureau and picked up the missive. Then, with provoking slowness, he turned it over, scrutinized the postmark, looked at the dainty seal in wax, and made as if to place the letter back on the bureau.
“Open it you rascal!” ordered Tom.
“What for?” asked Phil slowly. “It’s only a letter from sis. It will keep until I get my coat off, I guess.”
“A letter from your sister—not!” declared Sid. “I—er—I know——”
“Oh, you know her writing as well as all that, do you?” asked Phil quickly. “I congratulate you. Maybe I’m wrong.”
Once more he scrutinized the address. It bore his name in big, and rather sprawling characters.
“On second thoughts I guess it isn’t from sis,” he went on. “At least she didn’t direct the envelope. It’s from Madge Tyler, if I’m any judge.”
“What’s she writing about?” Tom wanted to know quickly, so quickly that the others glanced at him, and Tom had the grace to blush.