The other looked at him affectionately, and was about to say something in return when the window of the post-office was thrown open as a signal that the mail had been distributed.  So Maurice stepped up to secure the usual papers, together with an occasional letter, that came for the Jaspers.

Thad saw him start and look curiously at one letter, and then begin to tear the end off as though it were meant for him.

Watching curiously, all unaware how history was making at that identical moment for himself and Maurice, he saw the other smile and nod his head, while an expression of delight gradually crept over his face.

Then Maurice remembered that his chum was standing there waiting for him to come, and together they passed out of the little office.

“If that doesn’t beat the Dutch!” Maurice was saying, half to himself, as he looked at the letter he was holding in a hand that trembled a little despite his efforts to seem composed.

“It cert does,” declared Thad, positively; and then both laughed.

“Excuse me, old fellow, for not speaking up and letting you into the facts; but you can see for yourself that the thing’s kind of staggering me a bit.  Just to think of its coming today of all times, when I’m most in need of a home.  Talk to me about chance; I guess there’s something better than accident about this.”

“All right; I agree with you, Pard Maurice; but suppose you let a little light in on my dumb brain.  Where’s the letter from, and what does she say?” observed the other, eyeing the envelope dubiously, for he had a sudden fear that it meant the sundering of the ties that bound them together.

“New Orleans, and it comes from Uncle Ambrose—­you’ve often heard me speak of him, and that he was a captain on a tramp steamer that went all over the world picking up cargoes.  For three years I’ve lost track of him, but he hasn’t quite forgotten his nephew Maurice it seems.  Listen to what he says, after telling me how he’s beginning to feel lonely without a relative near, and growing old all the time.  Sit down here where we can look out on the bully old river, while I read.”

Thad dropped beside him on a stone, and cuddled his arms around his knees in a favorite attitude of his, while he prepared to listen.

“We are billed to be back here in New Orleans about the fifteenth of February, and if you can make it, my boy, I’d like to see you here then.  I’ve got a berth as supercargo open to you, and there’s a fine chance to see something of the world; for in the course of three years we are apt to visit the seven seas, and many strange countries.  Be sure and come if you care to take up with your old uncle.  The older I grow the stronger the ties that bind to the past appeal to me, and it will make me happier to have one of my own blood aboard to share my travels.  From your affectionate uncle.  AMBBOSE Haddon.

“On board the Campertown.