an tried to write an excuse to the first cave girl on a
block or stone. Probably that cave man, too, lied with laborious
misgivings. Probably he pleaded everything from urgent business to a
broken head, or explained that the posts were delayed because for
thirty-four days a dinosaurus had been blocking the traffic. And
probably, just as now, the cave girl knew he lied, pouted, sulked, and
then forgave him. Perhaps in those vigorous days she swore. Perhaps some
of them do now. There are things of which, alas! one can never be
certain.

At 6:32 o'clock, p.m., after fortifying himself with dinner, James
Gollop retired to the writing room of the hotel and began. At 7:35
o'clock James Gollop thought he could write better in the privacy of his
room where there were no distractions intervened by a lot of fools who
should have been born dumb, but were unfortunately gifted with speech
that was devoted to subjects that were of no importance at all in
comparison with the epistolatory efforts of one James Gollop. By
midnight the persistent correspondent had used a box of stationery, and
had composed letters enough to have formed a book in the style of the
"Ready Letter Writers' Friend," containing everything from letters of
condolence to congratulation, and from stern business to effusive
sentiment The sole letter missing might have been one pertaining to the
birth of twins. And this was what he mailed:

"DEAR MISS STURGIS: I have atoned for my seeming negligence by
having some violets sent you to-day, fortunately remembering that
those were the flowers for which you expressed a preference on that
memorable occasion when we together visited the horse show. I am
hoping to be in New York by Thursday next when I trust I shall have
the great pleasure of seeing you at your hotel. Please transmit my
cordial good wishes to your mother, and believe me,

"Most sincerely your friend,

"J. R. GOLLOP."

In the morning he blithely whistled and sang as he packed his samples,
and, following his custom, left his route card at the desk when he paid
his bill.

"Harrisburg, Philadelphia, and then home," he confided as he tossed the
card across to the clerk. "I don't suppose you'll get any mail for me;
but one never knows what the management of the biggest chocolate company
on earth might do. So I always play safe. Business first! That's my
motto. Got it hung on the lattice in my arbor in the garden