"I never can. Hello! Here comes Reddy with a bag of mail, the last we'll
get, I suppose, before we go home. A letter for me? Now just keep your
eyes to yourselves, fellows. I admit it's from Nellie, but no doubt the
dear girl is anxious about her brother Frank, and wants information from
a thoroughly reliable quarter."
Bluff sought out a lonesome corner of the big piazza in front of the
ranch house, and presently all hands were absorbed in their letters.
Suddenly the others heard Bluff utter an exclamation, and looked up just
in time to see him sprint into the building.
"What d'ye suppose ails the fellow?" asked Will.
"Give it up. He seemed to have a broad grin on his face, as though
Nellie must have written something especially sweet. But here he comes
out again, dancing like a wild Indian. What's he waving above his head,
fellows?" said Frank.
"It's his lost hunting-knife, as sure as you live!" echoed Will.
"Just to think of it, boys! The beauty was in my clothes bag all the
time, and I didn't know it! Nellie did it. She mentions the fact in this
letter, and says she was so afraid I'd hurt myself with that knife, by
accident, that she rolled it up in this new flannel shirt, which I've
never thought to put on as yet, and thrust it down at the bottom of my
clothes bag.
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