pieces and threw the fragments into the empty fireplace.
"That's no kind of letter to write to a lawyer shark. Why, don't you see that those London men are frightened to death?"
"They threatened me with jail," murmured old Stover.
"Of course they did. That's one of their tricks—and a very dangerous trick it is, as we'll show them. Now, schoolmaster, take a dip of ink and a fresh sheet. Write at the head, 'Pebblesdale, 2/8/1907.’"
"What's twenty-eight?" asked old Stover, suspiciously, but nevertheless with interest arousing.
"It means," explained the schoolmaster, "the second day of the eighth month."
"That's right," corroborated Pitts; then, to his gaping audience, "You see, it shows that we're in a hurry. We have no time to write the second of August, so we just dash down '2/8' with an inclined line between the figures."
The crowd drew a long, simultaneous breath of satisfaction. Their unwavering admiration of Tom Pitts's business genius was being justified.
"Now, before you begin the letter, write at the top, and underscore it with two lines, 'without prejudice,' and it won't do any harm if you enclose the phrase in quotation marks. It throws an air of learning over the sheet."
