“Not on yer life,” he said. “You’ll get me in trouble. I won’t open it for anybody.”
“But there’s money in it,” I said.
“No, there ain’t,” he answered, feeling of the envelope. “I guess I can tell!”
“Hold it up to the light, then,” said I, for the sun was shining very bright. “We’ll see who is right.”
He did this, and the writing was as plain as if written on the outside. It was her own hand, too, though it was not signed.
“She must have some more,” it said.
“Where does the man with the gold teeth live?” I asked, trying to smile and look careless.
“I shan’t say!” said the boy. “There is some funny business here. Let go of me!”
He twisted himself away and ran off, looking over his shoulder to see if I was following him.
I went back to the house then, and it was when I was in my room that I heard the telephone bell and Mrs. Estabrook’s soft voice talking very low. I crept out and hung over the stair rail trying to listen. Any one could tell in a second that the poor girl was in fright.