"Have you told anybody about the letters, Bob?"
"No, ma'am, not a soul."
"You're a good boy, Bob; a very good boy."
"Thank you, Miss Simmons."
"And about those letters"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"The man you speak of did bring them back."
"I thought that. Miss Simmons, have you seen him since the day you lost the letters?"
The old maid looked troubled. Then she glanced sharply at Bob.
"What are you asking that for?" she said.
"Because I believe he has been up to some mischief," replied the boy. "If I knew all about his dealings with you, it might help me find out what I am after."
"Well, Bob," said the lady, "he is certainly a very bad man. He found those letters, and nearly scared me to death saying he would print them if I didn't pay him to get them back. I gave him all the money I had. He wanted more."
"How much?" asked Bob.
"Sixty dollars, ten in cash."
"The rascal!"
"He made me give him a note for that fifty dollars. Then he asked me who would cash it. He got out of me that Mr. Silas Dolby did that kind of business. I suppose he placed the note with him."
"That explains how I came to see the tramp at the old miser's house the night Frank lost the key to the jewelry store," thought Bob.
"Early yesterday morning," went on Miss Simmons, "the man came to the back door here. He had another man with him."
"What kind of a man?" asked Bob, eagerly.
