"Well," she observed, as the little man hurriedly shed his hat and coat;
"well, all right, Mr. Bangs. Only Zach, he told me to be sure and tell
you, and tell you how sorry he was that it happened, and that he can't
exactly figger out just how it did come to happen, neither."
"Eh?" Galusha paused, with one arm still in the sleeve of his overcoat.
"Happen? What has happened to--ah--Mr. Bloomer?"
"Ain't nothin' happened to him. 'Twas him that made it happen to your
letter. And THAT letter of all letters! You see, Zach he don't exactly
remember when 'twas he got it from the post office, but it must have
been much as a week ago, sartin sure. Anyhow, when he took out the
lighthouse mail he left this letter in the pocket, and to-day, just now,
when he got them other letters of yours and put 'em in the same pocket,
he found the first one. And when I see that 'Cabot, What-d'ye-call-it
and Cabot' name printed out right on the envelope and it come over me
that 'twas THAT letter he'd forgot and had been totin' 'round with him,
'WELL,' says I. 'My Lord of Isrul!' I says--"
"Primmie! Primmie, stop! Stop--please! And tell me: Where are those
letters?"
"Hey? I was goin' to tell you. _I_ put 'em right here on the dinin' room
table, but Miss Martha she carted 'em off upstairs to your bedroom. Said
she presumed likely you'd want to open 'em by yourself.
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