and write at once."

Three days later Mr. Jennings handed a letter to Carl after they reached
home in the evening.

"A letter for you to my care," he explained.

Carl opened it in surprise, and read as follows:

"Office Of Gift Enterprise.

"Mr. Carl Crawford:--Your letter of inquiry is received. In reply
we would say that we will send you six tickets for five dollars. By
disposing of them among your friends at one dollar each, you will save
the cost of your own. You had better remit at once.

"Yours respectfully, Pitkins & Gamp,

"Agents."

Carl looked the picture of astonishment when he read this letter.

CHAPTER XX.

REVEALS A MYSTERY.

"Please read this letter, Mr. Jennings," said Carl.

His employer took the letter from his hand, and ran his eye over it.

"Do you wish to ask my advice about the investment?" he said, quietly.

"No, sir. I wanted to know how such a letter came to be written to me."

"Didn't you send a letter of inquiry there?"

"No, sir, and I can't understand how these men could have got hold of my
name."

Mr. Jennings looked thoughtful.

"Some one has probably written in your name," he said, after a pause.

"But who could have done so?"

"If you will leave the letter in my hands, I may be able to obtain some
information on that point."

"I shall be glad if you can, Mr. Jennings."

"Don't mention to anyone having received such a letter, and if anyone
broaches the subject, let me know who it is."

"Yes, sir, I will."

Mr. Jennings quietly put on his hat, and walked over to the post office.
The postmaster, who also kept a general variety store, chanced to be
alone.

"Good-evening, Mr. Jennings," he said, pleasantly. "What can I do for
you?"

"I want a little information, Mr. Sweetland, though it is doubtful if
you can give it."

Mr. Sweetland assumed the attitude of attention.

"Do you know if any letter has been posted from this office within a few
days, addressed to Pitkins & Gamp, Syracuse, New York?"

"Yes; two letters have been handed in bearing this address."

Mr. Jennings was surprised, for he had never thought of two letters.

"Can you tell me who handed them in?" he asked.

"Both were handed in by the same party."

"And that was----"

"A boy in your employ."

Mr. Jennings looked grave. Was it possible that Carl was deceiving him?

"The boy who lives at my house?" he asked, anxiously.

"No; the boy who usually calls for the factory mai