"She hasn't sent me no money. She paid me for the washing when she was here," said Mrs. Hansell.
"I mean the money she sent in the letter," he shook it at her; "the paper check to pay for the children's railroad fare. Where is it?"
"I hain't seen no money," said Mrs. Hansell, putting up her hand uncertainly to her poor bewildered head.
Thereupon the minister decided to take matters into his own hands. So getting off from his chair, "Children," he said, "not one of these bundles can be opened until we find something that has been dropped out of this letter. A little strip of paper."
"I guess Susan's et it," said Elvira, cheerfully.
"Oh, no, that cannot be."
"Yes, 'tis," she defied him, "she's been eatin' paper just awful."
"Well, look for it as hard as you can. I'll help you." The minister dropped to all fours, and together they all looked over the papers and bundles strewn in confusion around the big box. No strip of paper was to be seen.
"This is very dreadful," said the Rev. Mr. St. John, at last, getting up to his feet, and snapping off the wisps of straw from his clothes, which he was glad to reflect were not his best ones.
"Now can't we open the bundles?" screamed Matilda.