Something must have gone wrong.

Maybe a bank had gone busted or something like that.

Billy stole a glance up at the other, shambling silently along beside him, and decided that something had certainly happened--and on the heels of that he remembered oddly that he had felt almost exactly like this when Miss Bridger had asked him to show her where was the coffee, and there _wasn't_ any coffee.

There was the same heavy feeling in his chest, and the same-- "I wrote you a letter three or four days ago--on the third, to be exact," Dill was saying.

"I don't suppose it reached you, however.