"Why—why, Bob, I guess he is," she stammered.
"Was he begging? I think he is a tramp."
"Yes, that's it," nodded the old maid, quickly.
"I thought I would stop in as I was going by," said Bob. "I'll try and get time to look again for those four missing letters this afternoon. Miss Simmons."
"Oh, no, you needn't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because they have been found," said Miss Simmons.
"See, I have them all now," and she drew aside her apron to show a package in her lap.
"Well, I'm awful glad you got them back," said Bob.
He was very much surprised, but Miss Simmons did not explain any further.
"I guess I'll go," he said, moving down the steps. "If I can help you in any way. Miss Simmons, please tell me."
"No, Bob," replied the old maid, "there is nothing you can do. I am greatly obliged for what you have done. I'll have a little change for you when I see you again."
Bob went away slowly. He did not at all like the looks of things.
"Sort of funny," he thought. "She has got those letters back, she says. How did she get them? I'll bet I know. That tramp found them."
Bob walked along, figuring out his own ideas.
"I feel pretty sure that tramp told me a story," he said to himself. "I was goose enough to tell him about the letters and Miss Simmons. He had the letters all the time he was pumping me on the porch of the Dunbar place. Then he came to Miss Simmons and made the poor woman pay a lot for them. How much, I wonder? I hope she wasn't foolish enough to let the fellow rob her."
Bob had promised Miss Simmons that he would say
