So we did, J. Bayard glancin' suspicious at the dust and cobwebs and protectin' his silk hat and clothes cautiously. It's a good-sized box too, with a staple and padlock to keep the cover down. Luella hunted up the key and handed out bunch after bunch. Why do people want to write to parties they've read about in the newspapers? What's the good too, of jumpin' on bank wreckers and such at long range? Why, some even let their spite slop over on the envelopes. To see such a lot of letters, and think how many hard thoughts they stood for, almost gave you chills on the spine. Didn't seem to do much good to paw 'em over now, at this late date, either. I was almost givin' up my notion and tellin' Luella that would be about enough, when I noticed a long yellow document envelope stowed away by itself in a corner. "There's a fat one," says I. She hands it out mechanical, as she'd done the rest. "Hello!" says I, glancin' at the corner. "Gordon & Co., Broad Street, New York! Why, say, that's the Pyramid Gordon I was askin' about." "Is it?" says she. "I hadn't noticed." "Might give us some clew," I goes on, "as to what him and your Paw had a run-in about." "Well, open it, if you like," says Luella careless. J. Bayard and I takes it over to the window and inspects the cancel date. "June, 1894," says I. "Twenty-eight cents postage; registered too. Quite a package. Well, here goes!" "Bonds," says Steele, takin' a look. "That old Water Level Development Company's too." "And here's a note inside," says I. "Read it." It was to John Wesley Pedders, cashier of the Merchants' Exchange Bank, from Mr. Gordon. "In depositing securities for a loan, on my recent visit to your bank," it runs on, "I found I had brought the wrong set; so I took the liberty, without consulting your president, of substituting, for a few days, a bundle of blanks. I am now sending by registered mail the proper bonds, which you may file. Trusting this slight delay has caused you no inconvenience, I am----" "The old fox!" cuts in J. Bayard. "A fair sample of his methods! Had to have a loan on those securities, and wanted to use them somewhere else at the same time; so he picked out this little country bank to work the deal through. Oh, that was Pyramid Gordon, every time! And calmly allowed a poor cashier to go to State's prison for it!" "Not Pyramid," says I. "I don't believe he ever heard a word of the trouble." "Then why did he put Pedders' name on his list?" demands Steele. "Maybe he thought sendin' on the bonds would clear up the mess," says I. "So it would, if they hadn't come a day or two late and got stowed away here. And here they've been for twenty years!" "Yes, and quite as valuable to the bank as if they'd been in the vaults," sneers J. Bayard. "That Water Level stock never was worth the paper it was printed on, any more than it is now."