"Me too!" chimed in Ned.
Each boy had about ten pages partly written and scratched or torn. They had never before realized the arduous task of a diplomat. For this had to be a real diplomatic note. A lot was at stake, and a single word might spoil everything. At least so they fancied.
"Let's do it at home, and get down here early tomorrow night and settle it," said Dick.
"Agreed," exclaimed Frank and Ned together. And so hearty was their approval that they left without even putting the stopper on the ink bottle, let alone picking up the scribbled and torn papers.
Chapter II
The New Quest
The diplomats had hardly gone ten minutes when Father Boone came into the Club to get something he had forgotten in his indignant exit. On his way down from the office he passed through the library, and of course noticed the disordered papers on the table. The sheets were scribbled on and scratched and some were crumpled and torn. He paused to put things a bit in order, and his eye caught his own name on one of the papers. It began, "Dear Father Boone," and the same salutation headed several more of the sheets. "Oho, what's this?" he exclaimed. As the note was addressed to him, and lying there on the open table, he read:
"Dear Father Boone, I want to tell you in writing what I could not say to you in person. I tried to but somehow I could not."