“No,” said Alice, “I could never open it or read it.  I laid awake all night, thinking about my promise, and I finally made up my mind that I would go to see Lindy this morning, and let her read it; but now she has gone away, and we do not know where to find her.  What shall I do with this dreadful thing?” she cried, as she held the letter up in her hand.

Quincy felt called upon to speak.

“Miss Pettengill,” said he, “I think I could find Miss Putnam for you.”  A slight flush arose to Alice’s cheek which did not escape Quincy’s notice.  He continued, “When I went to Boston, last Saturday, I happened to meet her on the train.  She told me then something of her story, and said she was going to leave the house forever, as soon as Mrs. Putnam died.  She also told me that if I ever learned anything about her parents I could reach her by advertising in the Personal Column of the New York ‘Herald,’ addressing ‘Linda,’ and signing it ‘Eastborough.’”

“And will you do this at once for me?” cried Alice, eagerly.  “I am so thankful; you have taken such a load from my mind, Mr. Sawyer.  How fortunate it was that you met her as you did?

“I think Mr. Sawyer is about as lucky as they make ’em,” remarked!  Uncle Ike, with a laugh.

“Kind fortune owes me one or two favors yet before I shall be entirely satisfied,” said Quincy.  “Now, Miss Pettengill, will you allow me to make a suggestion that will free you from the further care of this document?”

“I don’t care what is done with it,” said Alice; “but no one but Lindy must read it.”

“That is any idea exactly,” assented Quincy.  “I will go to Boston on the noon train and send that advertisement to the New York ‘Herald,’ With your permission, I will turn that document over to a legal friend of mine.  He will put it in an envelope and seal it up.  He will write on the outside, ’To be delivered only to Miss Putnam, on the written order of Miss Alice Pettengill,’ and it will repose quietly in his big safe until Miss Putnam is found.”

“That will do splendidly!” said Alice, with animation.  “What magicians you lawyers are!  You discover a way out of every difficulty.”

“Wait until you get one of those lawyers working against you,” remarked Uncle Ike, “then you’ll change your mind.  Well, I s’pose now this matter’s settled, I can go upstairs and have my morning smoke.”

“And I’ve got to go to the store,” said Ezekiel to Uncle Ike, “and get some corn, or those chickens of your’n will swaller the hen coop.”  And both men left the room together.

“If you can give me a little of your time, Miss Pettengill,” said Quincy, “I have some news for you that I think will please you very much.”

“About my stories?” cried Alice.