"No."
"I s'pose it would be a worse job yet to miss two of 'em—wouldn't it?" said Phil with a perfectly grave face.
"Phil Davids!" Reuben exclaimed, facing round upon him, with such a flash of joy and hope and surprise and eagerness, as made Phil wonder. "What do you mean?" he added checking himself. "Just turn your pockets inside out, Phil, before we go any further."
"When were you at the post-office?"
"Last night—and this morning." Reuben forced himself to be quiet.
"Well look here,—when you go there, don't you ask for letters?"
"Ask!—I've asked till they were all out of patience."
"Suppose you come to the right shop next time!" said Phil, importantly producing the missing papers.
"Phil! Phil!—" was all Reuben said. He caught the letters—and stood looking at them with a face that made Phil look. "Mr. Linden will love you all his life for this. But how in the world did you get them?"
"That's exactly what I'd like somebody to tell me!" said Phil. "I know who put the monkey's paw in the fire—but how the chestnuts got there, I'm beat!"