“Don’t be hasty about opening that letter, Blake,” cautioned the scout master, who saw that such a move was indeed contemplated by his chum.
Blake held his hand before he had started to tear an end off the sealed envelope.
“Why, I thought it would be only right to find out if Felix had said he was sorry, Hugh,” he hastened to explain, looking somewhat disappointed. “Because if things did turn out that way, you see I could get this letter to Uncle Reuben, and then the object of our run up here to camp would be accomplished.”
“Yes, I understand all that, Blake,” answered the other, quietly, “but we mustn’t forget that a seal should be considered inviolate, and a letter like this not opened except as a last resort. He hadn’t mailed it, and might reconsider writing the same, no matter what the contents are. Then, again, you can’t be sure that he did repent, and was wanting Uncle Reuben to forgive him.”
Blake gave a big sigh.
“I suppose you’re right about that, Hugh,” he admitted, reluctantly, “though I’d certainly like to see what’s inside of this the worst kind.”
“Better let Hugh keep it in his pocket,” suggested Bud.
“Which means that maybe I might yield to a strong temptation and slit the envelope open some time or other,” Blake remarked, quickly. “Well, it might be just as good that I didn’t have the chance, so here, you keep it, Hugh.”
Accordingly, the patrol leader took the letter addressed to Mr. Reuben Gregory at Oakvale.
“I’ll tell you how we’ll settle this thing,” he proposed, thinking it best to have it decided, and wishing to give poor Blake what measure of comfort he could; “suppose we say we’ll leave the letter unopened until nine tomorrow morning. Then, if nothing comes from our hunt for your cousin tonight, and the mystery of his disappearance is still unexplained, why, I’ll take chances and we’ll see what he wrote.”