In the afternoon he stole up to the river with his rod; and any one who had seen him land his three-pounder, and leave it, as he left all his fish, at Widow Wisdom's cottage, would have been puzzled by his indifferent air.
That evening, as he was about to go to bed, he discovered the letters.
Dangle's letter, which he opened first, he scarcely seemed to heed.

The sight of the name at foot was sufficient.

He crumpled it up and tossed it in the corner.
But Yorke's aroused him.

He read it through once or twice, and his face grew grim as he did so.

Presently he went to the corner and picked up Dangle's letter and once more read it.