“Clothes!” scoffed Willard. “That money is going to put me in college. If there isn’t enough of it I’ll get a job somewhere next summer and earn the difference. I heard of a fellow who made nearly three hundred dollars one summer just selling books!”
“It’s my opinion,” declared Mr. Morris, “that that stamp is worth a whole lot of money and that your grandma knew it.”
“I don’t see how she could, sir,” Willard objected. “Why, even Mr. Chase isn’t certain about it yet.”
“Mother was a great one to read the papers,” said Mrs. Morris, “and I wouldn’t be surprised if she saw sometime that stamps like that were valuable. She was forever cutting things out of newspapers and saving them.”
“We’ll wait and see,” said Mr. Morris. “You’ll find I’m right, son. And if I am I’ll be mighty pleased!”
Waiting, though, was hard work for Willard. For a week he managed to be fairly patient, but at the end of that period he began to be uneasy. “You don’t think they got lost in the mail, do you?” he asked Mr. Chase.
“They couldn’t because I didn’t send them by mail. I was afraid to. I sent them by express and put—well, a good big valuation on them. So, even if they should be lost, Will, you’ll have a lot of money coming to you from the express company.”
That was comforting, anyhow, and there were times when Willard hoped devoutly that the express company had mislaid the package. But it hadn’t. Four days later Willard was called to the telephone at suppertime.
“Will, can you come over here after supper?” It was Mr. Chase’s voice.
“Yes, sir! Have you heard——”