"I'm afraid to go out in the hall after dark, for fear he'll get me by the leg." And Perner: "I think we'd better invite him in. Maybe he's brought something." Livingstone looked wearily in the fire. "I wish the 'Decade' would send me that check they promised to-day," he muttered presently. "And 'Dawn' the one they were to send me," said Van Dorn. "And the 'Columbian' mine," echoed Perner. "If I thought I could get it now by going over there, I'd go." "Too late, Perny; they're closed. You should have got it when you were there yesterday." "Yes, I know; but I thought some of us would surely get one, and I didn't want to appear broke. I suppose, if they'd mentioned it, I'd have been fool enough to have said, 'No hurry--any time-- I don't need it.'" Van Dorn regarded Perner gravely. "Perny," he said severely, "it is my opinion that you did say those very words. Were you, or were you not, offered a check yesterday in the 'Columbian' office?" "I _were not_! Though I believe there was some mention of having it made out if I wished it, and--" "And you told them that any time next week, or next month, or next year would do! Let in the wolf, Stony; we're betrayed." "Well," said Perner, "it'll be next year before it's next week, anyway." Livingstone arose and marched up and down the floor. "Don't do that," said Van Dorn. "It'll make you hungrier." "I suppose Barry's gone home," reflected Perner, "hasn't he, Van, by this time?" "Yes; and he lives seven miles beyond the bridge--too far to walk to-night." Livingstone paused in his exercise. "I believe there's one more mail," he said; "isn't there, fellows?" "Why, yes, that's so!" declared Perner. "And if there isn't, go down anyway. Maybe somebody's put something in the Colonel's mail-box that we can eat or sell." Livingstone disappeared and was gone for some minutes. "I guess the wolf's got him," said Perner. Then they heard him coming three steps at a time. "Bully!" said Van Dorn. "That means a check!" "A check, sure as the world!" echoed Perner, joyfully. Livingstone plunged in--his face flushed, his eyes shining, and an open letter in his hand. "How much is it?" asked Van Dorn and Perner together. Livingstone regarded them as if he did not understand. "How much is what?" he asked--then added joyously: "Oh, yes--oh, no; it isn't from the 'Decade'--it's--it's a _letter_!" Van Dorn and Perner rose grimly. Van Dorn's voice was very stern. "And what do you mean," he demanded, "by looking as you do now over a letter--simply a _letter_?" But Livingstone was in no wise daunted. "Sit down, Van!" he shouted, "you and Perny! I've always wanted to tell you, and never could quite do it before. Sit down now, and I'll read you this letter! It's from the girl that sent in our first subscription. It's the best letter that was ever written--from the best girl that God ever made!" XXI THE LETTER LIVINGSTONE READ