“T. Dangle, Sec.”
Fisher minor, the only boy to whom a missive to the School hermit might safely be entrusted, was on his way to Rollitt’s study with the captain’s note in his hand, when he was met on the stairs by Cash.
“What cheer, kid?” said the latter. “Where are you off to?”
“Taking a letter to Rollitt,” said Fisher minor.
“That’s just what I am, from Dangle. I say, you may as well give him the two. No answer. Ta-ta.” And he thrust his missive into Fisher’s hands.
It was just as easy to hand Rollitt two letters as one. So Fisher proceeded on his errand.
Rollitt was writing a letter, which he hurriedly put aside when the messenger entered.
“Get out!” he said, looking up. But when he saw who the intruder was his tone relaxed a little.
“Fisher minor? Better?”
“Yes, thanks. I had a cold, but that was all. I say, Rollitt, you were an awful brick helping us down that night.”