This they consented to do, and after Quincy had obtained certain papers and had packed his travelling bag, he left word with Mandy that he would not be back to the house until Tuesday of the following week, and it might be Wednesday, as he was going to Boston to see his parents.

When they reached Eastborough Centre, Quincy went at once to the post office; there he found a short letter from Leopold Ernst.  It read as follows: 

“Dear Q:—­

“Come up and see me as soon as you can; I shall be at home all day Sunday.  Am ready to report on the stories, but have more to say than I have time to write.

Invariably thine,
Leopold Ernst.”

Quincy then crossed the Square and entered the office of the “Eastborough Express.”  Sylvester flushed a little as Quincy came in, but the latter reassured him by extending his hand and shaking it heartily.

“Is the editor in?” asked Quincy.

“No,” replied Sylvester, “he never shows up on Saturdays.”

“Who is going to report the town meeting?” continued Quincy.

“I am,” answered Sylvester.  “The editor will be on hand, but he told me yesterday that he should depend on me to write the meeting up, because he had a little political work to attend to that would take all his time.  He told me he was going over to see ’Bias Smith on Sunday, so I imagine that Mr. Smith and he are interested on the same side.”

“Well, Mr. Chisholm,” said Quincy, “you managed that little matter about Miss Mason’s engagement so neatly that I have something for you to do for me.  I’m going to Boston this afternoon, and shall not be back until half-past seven Monday night.  I’m going over to see Mr. Parsons when I leave here, and shall arrange with him to supply all our boys with all they want to eat and drink next Monday.”

“Well, the boys, as you call them, will be pretty apt to be hungry and thirsty next Monday,” laughed Sylvester.

“That’s all right,” said Quincy, “I’ll stand the bills.”

“How’s Parsons going to know which are our boys?” continued Chisholm.  “They ought to have some kind of badge or some kind of a password, or your enemies, as well as your friends, will be eating up your provisions.”

“That’s what I want you to attend to,” added Quincy.  “I’ll arrange with Parsons that if anybody gives him the letters B D on the quiet, he is to consider that they are on our side, and mustn’t take any money from them, but chalk it up on my score.  Now, I depend upon you, Mr. Chisholm, to give the password to the faithful, and to pay you for your time and trouble just take this.”

And he passed a twenty-dollar bill to Sylvester.  The latter drew back.

“No, Mr. Sawyer,” said he, “I cannot take any money for that service.  This work is to be done, for I understand the whole business, to defeat the man who, I think, has treated my sister in a very mean manner, and I’m willing to work all day and all night without any pay to knock that fellow out.  Let’s put it that way,—­I’m working against him, and not for you; and, looking at it that way, of course, there’s no reason why you should pay me anything.”