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looked up from his work with an eager flush on his face. Markham, who had gone to the post office, was returning. His light, springy step coming up the walk, and cheery, ringing whistle told Frank that he was the bearer of good news.

"Afternoon mail," sang out Markham, putting the satchel down on Frank's desk. "And she's a cracker-jack!"

"Good," said Frank.

"Over thirty letters, continued Markham gaily. "Stamps in some, coin in others. My finger tips just itched to feel those letters, Frank. I just had to do it. Oh, if this suspense keeps up I'll be rifling the mails next."

Frank slitted all the letters in turn. Four postal cards asking for catalogues were promptly disposed of. The first of the letters was from a country newspaper offering reduced terms for advertising.

There was an application for an agency. No.