The caller turned his face and scanned Mike more closely. The youth, who was boiling with anger, tried to look as if unaware of the insulting action.
“Please hand that package back,” said Mr. Kupfer, with a compression of his thin lips.
Without a word, the widow passed the envelope to the man, who whisked through the open door, fairly leaping off the porch to the dusty path.
Who shall describe the emotions of Mike Murphy during these exasperating moments? He recalled the experience of Alvin and Chester, as they related it to him, when they were arrested as post office robbers some days before, and now something similar in essence had come to him. But what could he do? He would have liked to pummel the one who had insulted him, but that was impracticable, inasmuch as he had not addressed any words to the youth.
While he was fuming and glaring at the door through which the man had disappeared, Mike heard a soft chuckle behind him. He whisked his head around and saw Nora standing beside the safe just back of him, stuffing her handkerchief in her mouth and with her face almost as crimson as his own.
“If I may be so bowld I should like to know what ye are laughing at,” said Mike, who could feel no resentment toward the merry young miss.
“We both heard what he said,” she replied as soon as she could command her voice.
“Being I faal like a firecracker that has jest been teched off, I suspict I caught his loving remarks consarning mesilf.”
“Will you tell me something truly—upon your word of honor—take your dying oath?”
“That I will, ye may depind upon the same.”