ss.

* * * * *

We decided to send our darling not only to the _Times_, but to five
other leading London papers, engaging a box at the office of each for
the answers, the advertisement to appear every day for a week. In order
to keep our identity secret even from the discreet heads of advertising
departments, we would have the replies called for, not posted. Terry's
man, Jones, was selected to be our messenger, and had to be taken more
or less into our confidence. So fearful were we of being too late for
to-morrow's papers, that Jones was rushed off in a taxi with
instructions, before the ink had dried on the last copy.

Our suspense was painful, until he returned with the news that all the
"ads." had been in time, and that everything was satisfactorily settled.
The tidings braced us mightily. But the tonic effect was brief. Hardly
had Terry said, "Thanks, Jones. You've been very quick," when we
remembered that to-morrow would be a blank day. The newspapers would
publish T. B.'s advertisement to-morrow morning. It would then be read
by the British public in the course of eggs and bacon. Those who
responded at once, if any, would be so few that it seemed childish to
think of calling for letters that same night.

"I suppose, if you go the rounds in the morning of day after to-morrow,
it will be soon enough," Terry remarked to the ex-soldier, with the
restrained wistfulness of a child on Christmas Eve asking at what hour
Santa Claus is due to start.

I also hung upon Jones' words; but still more eagerly upon Captain
Burns' expression.

"Well, sir," said the man, his eyes on the floor--I believe to hide a
joyous twinkle!--"that might be right for letters. But what about the
telegrams?"

"Telegrams!" we both echoed in the same breath.

"Yes, sir. When the managers or whatever they were had read the 'ad.,'
they were of opinion there might be telegrams. In answer to my question,
the general advice was to look in and open the boxes any time after
twelve noon to-morrow."

Terry and I stared at each other. Our hearts beat. I knew what his was
doing by the state of my own. He who would have sold his life for a song
(a really worthwhile song) was eager to preserve it at any price till
his eyes had seen the full results of our advertisement.

_Telegrams!_

Could it be possible that there would be telegrams?

CHAPTER III

THE LETTER WITH THE PURPLE SEAL

I invited Terry to bre