There were four or five of these and the children were soon busily engaged in cutting out the black strips. When Gertie unfolded the last one two letters fell out.
Jane pounced upon them with a shriek. “Oh, Gertie, do you s’pose?”
“Maybe they are—let’s take them to your mother quick!”
The little girls pattered downstairs to Mrs. Morton, thrilled with excitement.
“Don’t get so excited, children. Little ladies should learn to compose themselves.”
She slowly put on her spectacles and deliberately examined the envelopes.
“They do seem to be addressed to Mr. Fletcher, but there isn’t one chance in a hundred they are of any value. However, I’ll turn them over to Mr. Harding.”
“Oh, Mother, see what’s inside, quick!”
“My dear little daughter, I have no right to read other people’s letters. Mr. Harding is Alice’s lawyer and it is his place not mine to examine these. You little girls may get your hats and take them down to Mr. Harding’s office. I think I can trust you not to drop them.”
The children surprised Dick Harding by rushing in waving the letters breathlessly. They had run about half the way in their zeal. He was a more satisfactory listener than Mrs. Morton—he was excited, too. It took him about four minutes to run through the letters, Chicken Little and Gertie explaining how they came to find them while he read.