Time passed on, and the ninth day since its transmission came and yet there was no reply.
Nervously anxious was Mr.Howland on the morning of the tenth day, for if no help came then, it was all over with him.

His note for fifteen hundred dollars fell due, and must be lifted ere the stroke of three, or the end with him had come.
A few mouthfuls of food were taken at breakfast, and then Mr.
Howland hurried away to the Post Office, his heart fluttering with fear and expectation.

A few moments, and he would know his fate.

As he came in sight of the long row of boxes, his eyes glanced eagerly toward the one in which his letters were filed up.

There was something in it.