Now and
then, though, you run across something rich. This was one of the times.
I was 'most through the pile when I comes to this pale pink affair with
a heavy wax seal on the back. Perfumed, too, like lilacs. First off I
thought it must be private, and I held the letter stabber in the air
while I took a closer look. No. It's addressed just to the Corrugated
Trust. So rip she goes. After I'd read it through twice I grins and
puts it one side. When Mr. Robert blows in I hands the pink one to him
first.
"We're discovered," says I. "Here's someone that hints polite how
we're a bunch of strong-arms organized to rob the widow and orphan of
their daily bread."
Mr. Robert takes one sniff, then holds it at arm's length while he runs
it through. Gets a chuckle out of him, too.
"It's rather evident," says he, "that Mrs. Theodore Bayly Bagstock
doesn't approve of us at all--though just why is not quite clear."
"That's easy," says I. "This Inter-Lake Navigation that she's beefin'
about was one of them little concerns we gathered in last fall. Paid
something like fourteen, and our common at three and a half don't seem
so good to her, I expect. Still, she got a double on her holdings by
the deal, and with the melon we're goin' to cut next month--"
"Suppose, Torchy," breaks in Mr.
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