“What's up? Lost something?”
“None of your business!” McGlory was searching the ground feverishly.
“If you told me what it was, maybe I could help you.”
No answer. McGlory's temper was rising again. Finding nothing where he had lain, he began thrashing about the bushes.
“Unless it's something important, Joe, you're wasting a lot of time.”
“Well, say—you—you ain't seen a paper—or anything, have you?”
“A letter?”
“Not exactly. It wasn't in an envelope.”
“Oh, you mean this, maybe.” With a lighted match in one hand, he drew a folded paper from his pocket and started to open it. McGlory sprang forward, recognized it, and tried to snatch it away.
“It ain't necessary to read that. It's private business.”