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"I made a mistake," said he. But he was not to be discouraged. Taking another half-quire, he went through with the same operation; in vain. With a sigh of impatience he flung it down on the table and looked up. "Halloo!" he cried, "what is the matter?" "There are but eleven sheets in this package," I said, placing it in his hand. The excitement he immediately evinced was contagious.
Suddenly he took up the next half-quire. "Count the sheets," said he, thrusting it towards me, and himself lifting another. I did as I was bid. "Twelve." He counted his and laid it down. "Go on with the rest," he cried. I counted the sheets in the next; twelve. He counted those in the one following, and paused. "Eleven!" "Count again," I suggested. He counted again, and quietly put them aside.
"Defects like these often run through a number of consecutive sheets," said he. "If we could find the identical half-quire from which this was taken, I might show you proof that would dispel every doubt," and taking up the one that lay on top, he rapidly counted the sheets. There were but eight.
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