"And will you do this at once for me?" cried Alice, eagerly. "I am so thankful; you have taken such a load from my mind, Mr. Sawyer. How fortunate it was that you met her as you did? "I think Mr. Sawyer is about as lucky as they make 'em," remarked! Uncle Ike, with a laugh. "Kind fortune owes me one or two favors yet before I shall be entirely satisfied," said Quincy. "Now, Miss Pettengill, will you allow me to make a suggestion that will free you from the further care of this document?" "I don't care what is done with it," said Alice; "but no one but Lindy must read it." "That is any idea exactly," assented Quincy. "I will go to Boston on the noon train and send that advertisement to the New York 'Herald,' With your permission, I will turn that document over to a legal friend of mine. He will put it in an envelope and seal it up. He will write on the outside, 'To be delivered only to Miss Putnam, on the written order of Miss Alice Pettengill,' and it will repose quietly in his big safe until Miss Putnam is found." "That will do splendidly!" said Alice, with animation. "What magicians you lawyers are! You discover a way out of every difficulty." "Wait until you get one of those lawyers working against you," remarked Uncle Ike, "then you'll change your mind. Well, I s'pose now this matter's settled, I can go upstairs and have my morning smoke." "And I've got to go to the store," said Ezekiel to Uncle Ike, "and get some corn, or those chickens of your'n will swaller the hen coop." And both men left the room together. "If you can give me a little of your time, Miss Pettengill," said Quincy, "I have some news for you that I think will please you very much." "About my stories?" cried Alice. "Yes," replied Quincy. "Just before I went to Boston last Saturday I got a letter from Leopold, asking me to call on him as soon as convenient. I found him at home Sunday evening, and this is what he said. The New York house has accepted your series of eight detective stories, and will pay you twenty-five dollars for each of them. The house will send you a check from time to time, as they publish them. Leopold has accepted your long story for the magazine published by the house for which he is reader. He says Jameson will get your other story into one of the Sunday papers, and he will have his dramatic version ready for production next fall. He can't tell how much you will make out of these just yet; the magazine pays by the page and the newspaper by the column, and, of course, Jameson will give you part of his royalty, if he gets the play on." "Why, Mr. Sawyer, you are showering wealth upon me like another Count of Monte Cristo."