“Oh, to be sure! but couldn't I have seen you as you drove up!”
“Not if you were sitting where you are now, sir,” said honest Harry.
“Well, I guess I shall have to own up, then, that I did know you were coming. This is how I received my information,” and Mr. Allan drew a little case from his pocket and began looking through the papers it contained. Nan gazed at the case in silent admiration. It was made of alligator skin, and had Mr. Allan's initials, R. T. A., in silver letters on the back.
“I wonder,” she thought, “if two dollars would buy one like that for Regie when he goes home at Christmas time?”
And then she remembered with satisfaction that Regie had only two initials, which would probably make it come a little cheaper. Mr. Allan finally found a postal card, and handed it to Regie, who read aloud:—
“'New York, November 21st, 18——.
“'Dear Mr. Allan,—Three little friends of mine will call on you to-morrow. I hope they will be none the less welcome when they have told you their errand.
“'Yours in haste,
“'F. F. Vale.'”
“Then you do not know what we have come for,” and Regie produced his collecting book with a most business like air. Mr. Allan put on his spectacles and examined it carefully. “Oh, I see,” he said at last, “you are collecting for the poor sailors who were saved from the wreck. I hear you turned the church into a hospital. You could not have done a better thing.”