of course _I_
can't watch."

"_She_ sha'n't get it!" said Phil. "I'll be there. I'll be Sinbad's old
man of the mountain for Mintie. I won't sit on her shoulders, but I'll
sit on the counter; and if there's a scratch of Mr. Linden's in the
mail-bag, I'll engage I'll see it as fast as she will. I know his seal
too."

"_Could_ she have done it to tease me?" Reuben said,--"I've never had
the least thing to do with her but through that post-office window."

"What did you ever give her through the post-office window?" Phil asked
half laughingly.

"Questions enough--" Reuben said, his thoughts too busy to notice any
underhand meaning,--"and lately she's given me rather cross answers.
That's all."

"Well what do you suppose she stole your letters for?"

"I don't know enough about her to guess," Reuben said frankly.

"Well," said Phil, "_I_ guess Dr. Harrison won't appoint the postmaster
of Pattaquasset when I am President. I rather think he won't."

"I wish you'd make haste and be President," Reuben said. "But if he
didn't know anything about Mrs. Tuck, Phil, other people did--and
thought she was honest at least. And you know _she_'s postmaster, by
right."

"_She_--is the female of Dromy!" said Phil with intense expression.
"But Mintie aint a fool, and it's _she_'s post-master--anyhow Dromy
says it's she that's Dr. Harrison's friend;--so that makes it. But that
don't tell why she wants the letters."

"Dr. Harrison's friend?" said Reuben,--"what does she have to do with
him?"

"I aint a friend of either of 'em, so I don't know," said Phil. "But
girls with pretty faces will make friends with anybody!"

A very high degree of masculine charity and correctness of judgment was
expressed in Phil's voice and words. Reuben made no reply--his charity,
of any sort, was not in a talkative mood, and the two parted kindly at
Phil's cross road.

Not home to dinner now, for Reuben! The minutes of talk had seemed long
to his impatience; he had borne them, partly to get information, partly
to keep down suspicion. But now with Phil out of sight, he turned short
about and took the way to Mrs. Derrick's with almost flying steps.
True, he was not dressed for "Miss Faith's" room--but Reuben Taylor was
always neat and in order, and she must not wait. He hurried into Mrs.
Roscom's--there to leave his basket and every removable trace of his
work,--then on!

Faith had spent the early morning upon her couch;--no need to ask if
she fel