“No, sir, we were way past that. I’ve got the place marked. I think——”
“Hello, what’s wrong?” exclaimed Mr. Chase.
“Why—why—here they are! They were in this book!”
“Eh? What were in——”
“Those envelopes, sir! Look!”
And there they were, sure enough; all together and with the bit of faded blue ribbon about them! Mr. Chase, beaming, held out his hand for them. Willard, still exclaiming, hazarding theories as to how they got into his Iliad, followed around the table while Mr. Chase carefully slid off the band of ribbon and looked them over.
“‘Alexandria,’” he muttered, “‘Paid—5,’ They’re the real thing, Will! By Jove, what a find! Perfect condition, too! Not a tear on one of them! And no—hello, what’s this?”
“What, sir?” asked Willard.
Mr. Chase was staring at the last envelope as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Why—why, it’s blue!” he almost shouted.