That night again we spent at the Lakeside Hotel. In the small hours of the morning, as I lay awake and meditated, a thought broke across me. I was so excited by it that I rose and rushed into my brother-in-law's bedroom. 'Charles, Charles!' I exclaimed, 'we have taken too much for granted once more. Perhaps Elihu Quackenboss carried off your dispatch-box!'
A fiery Virginian.
'You fool,' Charles answered, in his most unamiable manner (he applies that word to me with increasing frequency); 'is that what you've waked me up for? Why, the Quackenbosses left Lake George on Tuesday morning, and I had the dispatch-box in my own hands on Wednesday.'
'We have only their word for it,' I cried. 'Perhaps they stopped on—and walked off with it afterwards!'
'We will inquire to-morrow,' Charles answered.
