"When was this?" demanded Sam.
"About eleven o'clock. I hope it's all right. I would have delivered the letters myself, only I had a lot of work to do."
"It is not all right, and we are going to look into the matter at once," said Dick, and hurried off with Tom and Sam at his heels. They went straight to the room occupied by Flockley and Koswell, and knocked on the door. There was a stir within, a few whispered words, and then the door was opened.
"What do you want?" asked Jerry Koswell. Flockley was sitting by the table, reading.
"Flockley, what did you do with those letters you got from Filbury for us?" demanded Dick, striding into the room.
"Letters?" asked the dude carelessly. "Oh, I put them on the table in Tom and Sam's room."
"When?"
"This morning."
"They weren't there after dinner," said Sam.
"Nor after supper, either," added Tom.
"Look here, do you accuse me of stealing your tetters?" demanded Flockley, rising as if in anger.
"No; but we want to know where they are," answered Tom.
