"That's where the hitch may come in," agreed the other boy, as he
allowed three separate lines of wrinkles to gather across his forehead,
which was always reckoned a sure sign that Thad Stevens was concentrating
his brain power upon the solution of a knotty problem. "One thing sure,
we can't very well up and inform him of the fact ourselves, or he'd
understand the motive right away."

"And even if a letter could be sent," continued Hugh, "how would we
be able to get the right post-mark on the envelope, unless we asked
the postmaster down in a town of Texas close to the oil fields to
mail it for us?"

Suddenly Thad started to smile. The said smile rapidly broadened
into a positive grin that spread all over his face, while his eyes
fairly sparkled with delight.

"Hugh, I've just grabbed a bright idea!" he said, explosively.

"Let's hear about it before the same gets away from you, then," his
chum advised.

"Listen. Perhaps you may know that I used to go some with little
Jim Pettigrew more or less before you and I became such chums. Jim
is considerably older than me, but his stature always made folks
think he was a kid. Well, of course you also know Jim he's graduated
into a regular cub reporter, as he's so fond of calling it, because
that word _cub_ is used so often in the movies, when they show up
a big newspaper office in New York or Chicago, and the latest greenhorn
on the staff is given an assignment that allows him to make the