“But how would that affect the incoming mail?” asked the other. “Did that drop over the side, too?”
“No, sir,” said the diminutive man, drawing himself up to his full height. “There is nothing to prove that the incoming mail was anything but complete. We are honest people in Timber Town, sir. I do not believe we have in the entire community men capable of perpetrating so vile a crime.” He turned to the Father of Timber Town for corroboration. “I appeal to you, Mr. Crewe; to you, sir, who have known the town from its inception.”
Mr. Crewe drew his pipe from his mouth, and said, with great deliberation, “Well, that is, ah—that is a very difficult question. I may say that though Timber Town is remarkably free from crime, still I have known rascals here, and infernal dam’ rascals, too.”
The little man fairly bristled with indignation at this remark. He was about to refute the stigma laid on his little pet town, when the door opened and in walked Scarlett, dressed still in his travel-stained clothes, and with his beard unshorn.
His appearance was so strange, that the little argumentative man believed an intruder, of low origin and objectionable occupation, had invaded the sacred precincts of his club.
“I beg your pardon, but what does this mean, sir?” he asked; immense importance in his bearing, gesture, and tone. “You have made some mistake, sir. I should like to know if your name has been duly entered in the visitors’ book, and by whom, sir?”
Taking no notice of these remarks, Jack walked straight across the room, and held out his hand to Mr. Crewe. The white-haired old gentleman was on his feet in a moment. He took the proffered hand, and said, with a politeness which was as easy as it was natural, “What is it I can do for you, sir? If you will step this way, we can talk quite comfortably in the ante-room.”
Jack laughed. “I don’t believe you know me,” he said.
“’Pon my honour, you’re right. I don’t,” said Mr. Crewe.
Jack laughed again, a thing which in a non-member almost caused the pompous little man to explode with indignation.