The following day Don decided to walk to town and see if there was a letter for him at the postoffice. He expected one from his father. The others were studying so Don went alone to the town. He could have waited until the mail was delivered to the school, but that would be over the weekend, and he did not feel like waiting. He walked to town and entered the local postoffice.
A number of persons were waiting for their mail, so he took his place in line and waited patiently. A man ahead of him looked familiar to Don, and when the man had obtained his mail he turned away from the window and Don saw that it was Arthur Gates.
Gates had a number of letters in his hand, some of which he had received at the window and some of which he intended to mail. He passed Don and the boy paid no further attention to him. Don got his letter and left the window. As he did so he saw Gates walk to the door, open it, and as he was going out, drop a letter.
Don stepped forward and picked up the letter which Gates had dropped. The man was evidently in a hurry, for he passed out of the door and walked down the street rapidly. Thinking that the letter was one which Gates had intended to mail Don decided to drop it in the slot himself, but when he got to the mail opening he noted that the letter was addressed to Gates, and that it was postmarked Canada.
"Shucks," he muttered in disgust. "Now I've got to go and catch him."
With this thought in mind Don darted out of the door and looked down the darkened street for Gates, but he was not to be seen. He walked to the corner and looked up and down but without success. Gates was nowhere in sight. Feeling that he must go back and leave the letter with the postmaster Don was on the point of returning when a church clock struck the hour.
"Golly," he reflected. "I haven't time. I'll have to get back to school at once, and on the double."
There was no time to drop the letter off at Gates' house and Don decided to put it in his pocket and take it around to the house on the following day when he took his regular Sunday afternoon walk. He thrust it deep into his pocket and half walking, half running, reached the school building just in time. Without even thinking of the letter which did not belong to him he hung up his overcoat and went to supper.