"Shouldn't be 'tall surprised," remarked the other, rolling up his sleeves over the wash-bowl. "Can't tell exac'ly, though. I wanted to see what was goin' on down here, and git a sight of the big bugs, and hear a little spoutin' in Congress; so I told our folks to hum--says I, I b'lieve I'll scooter off down to Washin'ton, says I, and take a peep into the Dead Letter Office, and see if I can find hide or hair o' that 'ere hundred dollar letter, says I." "Have you lost a letter containing a hundred dollars?" inquired John Harmon, interested. The stranger said "'twas jes' so," and went on to relate the circumstances. He also incidentally stated that his name was Forrester Wilcox; that he owned a farm somewhere "down East," comprising over two hundred acres of land, and one hundred and fifty under cultivation; that he had been a member of the Maine legislature, and held the office of "deputy sheriff" in his county. This account of himself impressed John Harmon favorably; and in return for the confidence, he talked Mr. Forrester Wilcox to sleep that night, on the subject of the Harrowfork post-office. On the following morning, our friends concluded to pay an early visit to the Post-Office Department. They were now on excellent terms with each other; and on arriving at the Department, John Harmon readily accepted an invitation from Forrester Wilcox to accompany him to the Dead Letter Office, before endangering the digestion of his breakfast, by entering upon the perplexing Harrowfork business. Accordingly, as they entered the building, Mr. Wilcox hailed a messenger. "Look here! you!" said he, "where abouts does a chap go to find the Dead Letters?" "This way," replied the polite messenger. The visitors were shown to the left, through the lower main hall of the Department; then turning into another passage, the messenger pointed out the last door on the right, as the one they were in search of. "Thank ye," said Mr. Wilcox; "I'll do as much for you some time. May as well bolt right in, I suppose?" he added, consulting his companion. John Harmon said "certainly," and the next moment the two found themselves in the midst of the clerks of that important Bureau. Mr. Forrester Wilson singled out one of the most approachable of them, and addressed him on the subject of the hundred dollar letter. "I have no recollection of any such letter," said the clerk. However, for the visitor's satisfaction, he examined the list of returned money letters, for the last quarter. John Harmon, interested for his friend Wilcox, also ran his eye over the list. "It's not here," said the clerk; "but you may rest assured, that in case it is at any time discovered, it will find its way back to you in safety."