“I hope so. You deserve it, Deacon. And while I think about it——” I took the letter from my pocket. “Take this around to my room tomorrow and give it to Shreve. He’ll have something for you. But not till tomorrow, mind.” He took the letter and examined it. “It’s sealed up.” “Yes. And it’s written inside, Not good until tomorrow.” “H’m,” he said. He looked at the envelope, his mouth pursed. “Something for me, you say?” “Yes. A present I’m making you.”
