And fine you know who that is," he added, exasperated by Pym's indifference.

"I'm the T.Sandys that answered your advertisement." Pym knew who he was now.

"You young ruffian," he gasped, "I never dreamt that you would come!" "I have your letter engaging me in my pocket," said Tommy, boldly, and he laid it on the table.

Pym surveyed it and him in comic dismay, then with a sudden thought produced nearly a dozen letters from a drawer, and dumped them down beside the other.

It was now his turn to look triumphant and Tommy aghast.
Pym's letters were all addressed from the Dubb of Prosen Farm, near Thrums, N.B., to different advertisers, care of a London agency, and were Tommy's answers to the "wants" in a London newspaper which had found its way to the far North.