train.

"I see 'em myself," affirmed Alonzo. "I was as nigh to 'em as I be to
you. Mrs. Colton is sort of fleshy, but as handsome a woman as you'd
want to see. I spoke to her, too. 'It's a nice day,' I says, 'ain't
it?'"

"What did she say?" asked Newcomb.

"She didn't say nothin'. Engine was makin' such a noise she didn't hear,
I presume likely."

"Humph!" sniffed Baker, evidently envious; "I guess she heard you, all
right. Fellers like you make me tired. Grabbin' every chance to curry
favor with rich folks! Wonder you didn't tell her you drove a fish-cart
and wanted her trade! As for me, I'm independent. Don't make no
difference to me how well-off a person is. They're human, just the same
as I am, and _I_ don't toady to 'em. If they want to talk they can send
for me. I'll wait till they do."

"Hope you've got lots of patience, Alvin," observed Mullet drily.
During the hilarity which followed, and while the offended apostle of
independence was trying to think of a sufficiently cutting reply, I
walked to the rear of the store.

Our letter box was Number 218, in the center of the rack, and, as I
approached, I glanced at it involuntarily. To my surprise there was a
letter in it; I could see it through the glass of the box door. Lute
had, as I knew, got the mail the previous evening and the morning's mail
had not yet arrived. Therefore this letter must have been written by
some one in Denboro and posted late the night before or early that
morning. It was not the custom for Denboro residents to communicate with
each other through the medium of the post. They preferred to save the
two cents stamp money, as a general thing. Bills sometimes came by mail,
but this was the tenth, not the first, of the month; and, besides, our
bills were paid.

I reached into my pocket for my keys, unlocked the box and took out the
letter. The envelope was square, of an expensive quality, and eminently
aristocratic. It was postmarked Denboro, dated that morning, and
addressed in a sharp, clear masculine hand unfamiliar to me, to "Roscoe
Paine, Esq." The "Esq." would have settled it, if the handwriting had
not. No fellow-townsman of my acquaintance would address me, or any
one else, as Esquire. Misters and Captains were common enough, but
Esquires--no.

It was a Denboro custom, when one received a mysterious letter, to get
the fullest enjoyment out of the mystery before solving it. I had known
Dorinda Rogers to guess, surmise and specul