the store, I saw Gus Plum coming out of the postoffice on the opposite side of the street. He had some letters in his hand, and he turned into the little public park near by, sat down on a bench, and began to read them."
"Well, what is remarkable about that, outside of the fact that he is supposed to get all his letters in the Hall mail?" remarked Dave.
"That's just it. I made up my mind something was wrong, or else he'd have his mail come here. I saw him tear three of the envelopes to pieces and scatter the bits in the grass. When he went away, I walked over to the spot and picked up such bits of paper as I could find. Of course, you may say I was a sneak for doing it, but just look at what I found."
"I have no desire, Chip, to pry into Plum's private affairs."
"Yes, but this is not his private affair—to my way of thinking. It concerns the whole school," returned Chip Macklin, eagerly.
Dave glanced at the bits of paper, and at once became interested. One piece contained the words, "Stamp Dealer"; another, "Rare Sta— w York," and another, "Stamps Bought and Sold by Isaac Dem— —nett Street, Sa"
"These must have come from dealers in stamps," said Dave, slowly.
"That is what I thought."
