Robert went out, well pleased to have something to do, and mailed the letter at the city post-office, as directed.
Fitzgerald laughed to himself after the boy went out.
"The boy little suspects that that is a bogus letter, and that there is no such person as Ashley Robinson in New York. If there is, I haven't the honor of knowing him. It was rather a happy idea of mine, as the boy's suspicion will not be so easily aroused if he thinks I am engaged in a legitimate business journey. Well, well, I shall be glad when the job is accomplished, for it isn't overmuch to my taste. That villain Hugo might find it to his mind. It is a pity that such fellows should succeed in feathering their nests and getting all the good things of this life. When this work is done, I shall have a hold upon him, and it won't be my fault if I don't make him pay handsomely for doing his dirty work for him."
Presently Robert returned.
"Did you mail the letter?" asked his employer.
"Yes, sir."
"That is well, for it was an important one."
"You forgot to tell your correspondent where to write you," said Robert, to whom the omission had occurred as he was returning.
Fitzgerald was for a moment embarrassed, but he was a man of ready wit.
"Oh, he will know," he answered; "he will address me at the town where his land is located."