ned to know something about antiques, and if he should describe
her children, she wouldn't recognize them."

After luncheon I went out on the porch. While I sat there, the mail
carrier came along and handed me a letter--a returned letter. It was
directed in Ptolemy's round hand to Mr. Issachar Innes. He had
evidently used the envelope to Silvia's letter to her uncle as his
model, for the address was written in the same way. "Personal" was
added in the left-hand corner, and his name and our house number was
in the upper left-hand corner.

I went into the library where my wife, Beth, Rob, and Ptolemy were
sitting.

"Ptolemy," I said, handing him the letter, "here is your communication
to Uncle Issachar, returned."

He lost some of his usual _sang froid_ and appeared quite disconcerted.

"Why, Ptolemy," exclaimed Silvia in consternation, "what in the world
did you write to Uncle Issachar about?"

Ptolemy had recovered and was quite himself again.

"About us," he said innocently. "As the oldest of our family, I
thought I ought to do a little explaining."

"And I think," I said, looking at him keenly, "that we have the right
to know what your explanation was."

Ptolemy handed me over the letter.

"Read it aloud," he said, with the air of one who is proud of his
productions.

Rob's eyes shone in anticipation.

I broke the seal. A note from the secretary fell out. It was an
apology for not returning the letter sooner, but it had been
inadvertently mislaid. I then read aloud the letter Ptolemy had
written:

"Dear Uncle Issachar

"I am sorry Diogenes and I were away when you were here. You
thought the others were fine, but you should have seen--Diogenes.
I hope you will send mudder back her check, because there is lots
of things she needs, and it takes a lot of money to take care of
all us. You see our own father and mother don't want to be
bothered with us and they went away and left us, and so we are
living with mudder the same as if we were really her adopted
children, and if her own would have been worth five thousand per
to you, I think her adopted children ought to be worth half as
much anyway, so it would only be fair to send her a check for
$12,500 anyway, and if you are a good sport like the kids said you
were, you'll send back her check.

"Yours truly,
"P. Issachar Polydore Wade."

Rob's laug