"I think they have blown away among the litter down by the creek," explained Bob.
"Yes, that seems likely," said the man.
He slouched down the steps and loitered about the gate as Bob took little Walter away towards the home of Miss Simmons. As he turned into her yard he happened to glance back. The man he had just left stood in the middle of the sidewalk, watching where he went.
"Did you find them—oh, did you find them?" asked Miss Simmons, anxiously, as Bob came up the steps.
"Most of them, Miss Simmons," replied Bob, handing her sixteen of the letters.
"There are four of them missing," said the old maid, counting the letters.
"Yes, ma'am. I know where Walter left them, though."
"Where, Bob?"
"At the Dunbar house."
"There is no one at home there now."
"I know it, but the letters were gone. Tell you. Miss Simmons, I feel pretty sure the wind blew them across the yard and in among a great lot of litter near the creek."
"Oh, I hope so! Oh, I hope no one will ever find them!" sighed Miss Simmons. "I haven't got any change in the house. Bob, but when you come by again stop in, and I'll give you ten cents."
"Don't think of it," replied Bob. "When I have time. Miss Simmons, I'll make another search for those four missing letters."
"You're a good boy. Bob."
"Thank you, Miss Simmons."
"And—and, Bob, please don't tell anybody I took on so about those letters."
"Oh, no, ma'am, I won't," promised Bob.
