'I hope your rules will be kept,' said Marion who had been reading them over. 'The princ.i.p.al one is about paying at once. Well, of course, that's a very good rule. It is so easy to forget to pay for such little things, if one doesn't do it at once. And then about the time of closing every evening.'

'At eight o'clock--when I go to bed,' Leo said. 'I shall come round then for the last time and shut up.'

'But,' said Cynthia, '_supposing_ mamma wanted a stamp quite late at night. It might happen, you know, and that was to be the good of having a post-office in the house. And if you had locked them all up'----

'I can't lock them up,' said Leo; 'there's no key.'

'Well then,' said Marion, 'I think you should make a rule that if mamma wants anything after eight, she should be allowed to have it, or if any one else does, they might too, if they got her to sign one of the papers. Of course it wouldn't often happen, but just in case.'

'Very well,' Leo agreed; 'I'll add on that new rule,' and so he did.

All went well for some time. The stock, of stamps especially, was sold out several times in the course of the first week or two, and everybody paid regularly. Once or twice, it must be owned, Cynthia forgot to pay, and more than once or twice people forgot to mark down what they had taken. But Cynthia was always ready with her pennies as soon as Leo asked her, and except for this the money was all right. More than all right indeed, for one day a friend of his mother's made such big purchases that he was quite cleared out, and had to set off to the chemist's at once, and thanks to this and to other smaller profits, by the end of the first week he had gained threepence, and by the end of the second, twopence-halfpenny more.

So Leo began to think his post-office a great success.

But one morning he had a start.

He had left all quite correct the evening before; the money was right, and he knew exactly how many stamps he had left, when he had made his last round, as he called it, at bedtime; but this morning, though the money was the same, the stamps were not; three penny ones were gone.

[Ill.u.s.tration: One morning he had a start.]

Leo counted them all over and over again, 'to be quite sure,' even though in his heart he had been quite sure from the first. Then he ran up-stairs to ask his mother if possibly she had taken them after he was in bed, and forgotten to mark them down. No, mamma had not had any. Leo began to look quite distressed.

'Don't worry about it,' said his mother. 'It's the first time anything has gone wrong. I will pay the threepence, dear. It has just been some mistake.'

Leo thanked her and ran off, determining to count more carefully than ever. And for two or three days all was right. Then again, one morning, it happened again that stamps were missing. Two penny and one halfpenny this time!

'Dear, dear,' thought Leo, 'I don't like this at all,' and again mamma was consulted. 'If this goes on,' he said, 'I must give it up.'

But mamma advised him to wait a little; perhaps some one would remember having taken them.

So Leo waited, though far from easy in his mind. Only one thing consoled him.

'If it was a robber,' he thought, 'they'd have been _more_ likely to take the pennies than the stamps.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: "IT REALLY IS VERY QUEER"]

For some days poor Leo was in great trouble about the strange disappearance of his stamps. He asked everybody, but n.o.body had had any they had not paid for. And he was sure n.o.body in the house would say what was not true. He began to think of robbers and burglars, only, as Benjamin the footman reminded him, 'It wasn't common-sense to suppose burglars'd steal postage-stamps and nought else; not that there was much chance of silver plate about. Mr. Trev, the butler, and he--Benjamin himself--was a deal too sharp.'

Benjamin seemed a little cross about the stamps, and so did Trev, Leo thought. And mamma advised him to say no more about it. If it happened again--well, she began to be afraid he would have to give up his post-office, and for some evenings, to make quite sure, she counted them over herself with him at bedtime, and as they each time proved right the next morning, she almost thought Leo must have miscounted.

But alas! Two mornings after that, and again stamps were missing, two this time, and, by way of variety this time, a newspaper wrapper!

'It really is very queer,' said Leo's mother when he flew to tell her of the new troubles. 'I really do feel as if I would like to find out who takes them. I've a great mind to sit up late one evening and watch.'

'Oh no, mamma, please don't,' said poor Leo, looking quite frightened; 'at least if you do, you must let me sit up too. Just think if it was real robbers,' for he could not quite get the idea out of his head that burglars after all might have to do with it.

Mamma laughed, but still she promised him that she would choose a night when his father was at home.

'I don't think I should care to sit up late all alone,' she said, 'even though I don't think it likely that burglars are stealing your stamps, Leo.'

Now I must explain that Leo's father was a _very_ busy man. Some evenings he did not get home till long after not only Leo, but his big sisters and even his mother, were in bed, and sometimes he had to go off so early in the morning that for several days together, now and then, they scarcely saw him. This was a great trouble to them all, for they were very fond indeed of their father, and he was very fond of them. But it could not be helped for the present, though Leo was already looking forward to the time when he should 'be a man,' and able to help papa.

Lately, since Leo had started his post-office, his father had been even extra busy, and if he had heard about the matter at all, he had not paid much attention, or else he had quite forgotten it. The schoolroom in these children's house was at the end of the hall, and between it and the dining-room was a tiny little book-room or study, where their father kept all his own papers, and where he used to write when he _was_ at home. Sometimes when he came home very late and let himself in with his latchkey, he would go straight to this little room, where a good fire was kept up, and there he would write answers to any letters he found waiting for him, and leave them on the hall-table all ready to be posted the _very_ first thing in the morning by whichever of the servants was the earliest about; but I don't think any of the children or their mother knew of this custom of his, as it had never happened to come in their way.

The very evening of the day on which Leo and his mother had been talking so seriously about the missing stamps, papa, for a wonder, came home quite early. It was really a great treat to them all. He had dinner quite comfortably with mamma, and after dinner, when Marion and Cynthia and Leo were all in the drawing-room as usual, they kept saying to each other _how_ nice it was to have papa with them.

'If only you could come home every day as early as this,' said Cynthia to him.

'But perhaps if I could, you wouldn't think so much of me,' said her father laughing.

'And I'm afraid mamma wouldn't let me sit up till nine _every_ night,'

said Leo, who had got an hour's grace this evening. 'Mamma,' he went on, coming close to her and whispering, 'do you think you'll sit up to-night and _watch_? I wouldn't mind you doing it with papa, you know.'

'I'll see about it,' said his mother, smiling, while his father looked up and asked what they were whispering about--it was a shame to have secrets from him when he was so seldom at home!

And as he spoke, he got up slowly from his comfortable chair by the fire.

'I'm afraid I must go down-stairs to the study,' he said. 'I have some letters to write, though I do feel very lazy about it.'

But immediately a cry was set up.

'O papa, do wait till we've gone to bed,' said the three voices. 'We shall be going in half an hour.'

So of course papa gave in.

Mamma had an interesting book to read after the children had gone to bed, and their father had left her to write his letters. She read on for some time, and then she began to feel chilly, and looking up she saw that the fire was getting low.

'I'll go down to the study,' she thought. 'There's sure to be a good fire there.'

As she went down-stairs it struck her that she would take a look into the schoolroom, and just notice if the 'post-office' drawers were shut, and all looking as usual.

'I might even,' she said to herself, 'count the stamps and compare my counting with Leo's to-morrow.'

But it was dark in the schoolroom. The fire, however, was not quite out; she turned to look for a match or a spill to light one of the candles.

Her back was turned to the door, but as she stood there she heard it creak a little as some one pushed it open and came into the room. And this some one, much to her surprise, marched straight up to the stamp drawer, not to the money one, as if well acquainted with the arrangements, and by the light which came in from the hall stood quietly helping himself to some stamps. And who do you think it was? Why no one in the world but Leo's father himself!

Mamma all but burst out laughing, but she managed to stay quite still for a moment. Then she called out: 'What _are_ you doing in that drawer?'

It was papa's turn to jump then! But he soon got over his start.

'What are you doing there all by yourself in the dark?' he said. 'And what should I be doing but taking a stamp or two, of course,' he went on, coolly. 'I've always forgotten to say what a good idea it is to have stamps and wrappers and things so handy here. I never knew you kept them here till a few nights ago, when I came in here to see if there was any coal, as my fire was nearly out, and the drawer was open.'

'Ah,' thought Mamma, 'Leo did say he had asked Cynthia to shut it the night he had a headache, and no doubt she forgot.'

'And,' papa went on, 'I was so glad to see where the stamps were, as I sometimes run short. Since then I've helped myself to whatever I wanted, two or three times.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Culprit]