There was a far-away, rather dull look in the old peddler's eyes.
Just before he reached the boys, whom he had not seen, he took a piece of paper from his pocket, pulled his spectacles down from his forehead and read the paper.
"I don't understand it," muttered the peddler, aloud.

"I can't understand it.

I wish I had someone to give me the right of it." "Could we be of any service, sir ?" Reade inquired.
Hearing a human voice so close at hand the peddler started for an instant.

Then he pulled in the horse.
"I dunno whether you can be of much use to me," answered the peddler slowly.

"You don't look old enough to know much about business." "Still, I know more than anyone would think, from just looking at me," volunteered Reade, reddening a bit as he saw the laughter in Dick Prescott's eyes.
"Maybe you can explain this riddle," went on the peddler, extending the sheet of white paper.