Ten Years Among the Mail Bags. James Holbrook
his own discretion, and the honor of his companions. At this critical juncture in the character and affairs of the young man, such a cold rebuff was like a death-blow to all purposes of future fidelity and honesty; and as I listened to this part of the instructive narration, I could not but feel that the uncle, by withholding needed sympathy and aid, was in some degree responsible for the after course of his erring nephew.
All hope of assistance in this direction having been abandoned, desperation suggested a further departure from honesty.
"It is but a little more risk," whispered the fiend. "Take enough to make this quarter's account square, and you will come out right somehow before another settlement."
Weakened conscience was unable to withstand the pressure of circumstances, and the plausible scheme proposed for relief. So, money letters, which heretofore had been perfectly safe, were emptied of their contents to meet the present exigency.
Indications not to be mistaken, that some one was robbing the mails in that vicinity, soon began to appear, though among all the complaints, not one referred to the loss of any letter mailed at or addressed to the office at E. They all related to important letters posted at other offices, but passing through E., and it was not until all sorts of tests and experiments had been tried in vain at other points, and every other mode of operation exhausted, that the Agent took up temporary quarters at the private residence of an acquaintance, from which, without being observed, he could overlook this office, hitherto the least suspected on the route.
The opportunity afforded after dark of taking a glance at the interior of the office and its principal occupant, through the glass boxes in front, was of course properly improved, and this little experiment furnished, as the result showed, an important clue to the whole matter; for on the first evening's watch, I discovered what I deemed evidence of the clerk's guilt.
Stepping silently and unnoticed into the vestibule of the office, and gaining a position whence I could observe his motions. I distinctly saw him thrust what appeared to be a letter into the stove, afterwards taking up a wallet from the table and placing it hastily in his pocket. I must have made some slight noise, for after doing this, he suddenly turned and looked sharply in my direction.
This may have been nothing more than the instinctive glance of distrust which those who have not the entire control of themselves are apt to cast around after doing something that they would dislike to be detected in.
However it may have been, thinking that he had discovered me, I stepped boldly up to the "general delivery," and inquired for a letter for "Robert Marshall, railroad contractor," taking occasion to observe him closely as he was engaged in running over the letters. He seemed confused, his hands shook a little, his face was flushed, and his voice Was inclined to tremble, as he replied that there was "nothing for Robert Marshall." I attributed all this to fear lest his previous movements might have been observed, and left the office, strongly suspecting that Thomas L. was the author of the depredations in question.
A few experiments in the way of "decoy letters," mailed so as to pass through that office, soon converted suspicion into certainty. One of these letters, containing sundry bank-notes, disappeared, and one of the notes was traced directly back to his hands. How this was done, the reader will probably insist upon knowing, and it is my intention to gratify this thirst for information, although in so doing I shall be compelled to reveal a degree of unskilfulness in the game of ten-pins which would deter the most sanguine gamester from betting on my head.
In the basement of the hotel was a bowling saloon, which, as I had ascertained, the suspected clerk was in the habit of visiting in the evening, after closing the post-office, and this fact suggested my plan. I might have arrested and searched him at once, but I thought it the better way to watch the money exchanged by him, in the hope that some of the missing bills might thus come to light.
For if he should chance to have none of these about his person, a search would spoil all, by putting him on his guard, whereas if he should offer none of them, no harm would be done, and things would remain in statu quo.
With these views I made a confidant of the landlord of the hotel which contained the bowling saloon, and agreed to meet him there early in the evening for a "roll," and arranged that in case the young man came in as usual, my partner should excuse himself, and substitute L. in his place, to oblige a stranger, who, of course, was rolling merely for exercise.
My design in making this arrangement was to fasten the expense of the evening's recreation upon L. by a brilliant and overpowering display of my skill in bowling, calculating that he would probably pass some of the stolen money in payment. This was my programme—how it was executed I shall proceed to show.
"Mine host" and I had been rolling perhaps half an hour, when a fine-looking, well-dressed young man entered the saloon, whom I at once recognised as L. The landlord and myself happened to be the only ones then engaged in playing, as it was rather early in the evening for the appearance of most of those who resorted there; so L. watched our game for a while, till the landlord, looking at his watch, remarked that he had an engagement which must be attended to immediately, and turning to L., said.
"Here, Tom, you take my place with this gentleman, for I've got to go away."
"Enough said," replied Tom. "I am always on hand for most any kind of a ball."
As I looked at the pleasing features and intelligent countenance of the young man, a pang of sorrow shot through my heart, to think that over his head the invisible sword of justice was even now suspended. But such reflections are unprofitable, inasmuch as they tend to unfit one for the discharge of painful duty. So I dismissed them as far as I could, and applied myself to my double game—
| "Rolling down at once, by a double stroke. A man, as well as a pin." |
The first roll of my new antagonist shook my faith in the feasibility of my plan, for the ball went clattering among the wooden platoons like the grape-shot at Balaklava, and in an instant ten block heads bit the dust.
"A rather bad beginning," thought I; "but I don't believe he can do that again."
Comforting myself with this reflection, I applied all the practical and theoretical skill I was master of, to vanquish my experienced foe. I called to mind my long dormant and slender knowledge about the angles of incidence and reflection. I considered the nature of resultant forces, and the effect which a ball impinging on pin A would have upon the uprightness of its neighbors, B, C, &c. I thus devised theoretical "ten strikes," which (doubtless from some defect in the reasoning) would fall short of my ideal standard by as much as four or five pins; and on several occasions, the ball strayed almost innocuously through the ranks, prostrating only one or two of the outposts. I had a few transient gleams of light when my adversary grew somewhat careless, perhaps from continued success; but darkness soon returned upon my prospects, and I saw in my mind's eye the money coming from my pocket and not his.
We held but little conversation during the progress of our game, for my thoughts were preoccupied with my ultimate object, and L. made no great effort to overcome my taciturnity; yet some casual remarks were made which showed that he identified me as the person who inquired for letters for "Robert Marshall, railroad contractor."
After playing thus for some time, he invited me to take a glass of ale, which proposition I gladly accepted, as it would give me one more chance to know something about the contents of his pocket book. I began to think that my toils were nearly over, and as we stood imbibing the fluid, I could hardly wait until the glasses were emptied, in my impatience to see the bank-note produced which was to settle at once the bill, and him.
Delusive anticipations! The credit system interposed to crush my hopes, for L. said to the bar-tender, "Put it down to me, Jim."
As "Jim" put it down, I felt put down, and followed my companion back to the alley as humbly as if we had changed places, and I was the suspected one.
"Come, Mr. L.," said I, after we had resumed our game, "you play so much better than I that you will be safe in giving me some little advantage. Just allow me twenty on a 'string,' and let me see if I