“I am not sorry that we are not to wait all day in port for the steamer,” replied Tom. “You have had letters from home, O’Hara. I hope your friends are all well.”
“First class,” replied the fourth lieutenant. “And did you get the letters from London of which you were advised in the despatch?”
“I got one letter, but it is a very thick one, and very likely the envelope contains two or three of them.”
“Well, what is it all about? How much money has your uncle left you?” asked O’Hara glibly, but with deep interest manifested in his bright eyes.
“I don’t know: I haven’t opened the letter yet,” replied Tom, with a smile.
“Haven’t opened it!” exclaimed the lieutenant, holding up both hands in amazement. “Upon my sowl, you are a lunatic, Speers! you haven’t a head upon your shoulders at all, at all!”
“Now, I think I have,” added Tom, laughing heartily at the earnestness of his companion. “Did you open your letters?”
“To be sure I did.”
“Why did you open them?”
“Why did I open them? Howly Mother, what a question! Why did I open them? To see what was in them. What else would I open them for?”