"Is it?" says she. "I hadn't noticed."
"Might give us some clew," I goes on, "as to what him and your Paw had a run-in about."
"Well, open it, if you like," says Luella careless.
J. Bayard and I takes it over to the window and inspects the cancel date.
"June, 1894," says I. "Twenty-eight cents postage; registered too. Quite a package. Well, here goes!"
"Bonds," says Steele, takin' a look. "That old Water Level Development Company's too."
"And here's a note inside," says I. "Read it."
It was to John Wesley Pedders, cashier of the Merchants' Exchange Bank, from Mr. Gordon. "In depositing securities for a loan, on my recent visit to your bank," it runs on, "I found I had brought the wrong set; so I took the liberty, without consulting your president, of substituting, for a few days, a bundle of blanks. I am now sending by registered mail the proper bonds, which you may file. Trusting this slight delay has caused you no inconvenience, I am——"
"The old fox!" cuts in J. Bayard. "A fair sample of his methods! Had to have a loan on those securities, and wanted to use them somewhere else at the same time; so he picked out this little country bank to work the deal through. Oh, that was Pyramid Gordon, every time! And calmly allowed a poor cashier to go to State's prison for it!"
"Not Pyramid," says I. "I don't believe he ever heard a word of the trouble."