“Write? Oh, but we did write,” said Chub. “Didn’t you get Roy’s letter?”
“Of course I didn’t,” replied Harry, suspiciously, glancing around her at the preternaturally sober countenances. “I don’t believe you wrote.”
[The next moment they were all shaking hands]
“How passing strange!” murmured Chub. “Roy, hand the lady her letter. She appears to doubt my word.”
Roy laughed, and fished the missive from his pocket.
“You didn’t send it!” Harry exclaimed. Chub shook his head.
“No, we feared it might alarm you. We thought it better to bring it along with us. You will see that we agreed to be here the twenty-first. It is now the twenty-first. And here we are, right on time. Punctuality is one of our principal virtues. Tell her some of the others, Dick.”