Ben nodded.
“See that you do, then. And caution the friend who was with you to tell no one,—absolutely no one. Such news goes like wildfire.”
“We wouldn’t be apt to tell and run the risk of losing the reward.”
“Umph! Some folks couldn’t keep a secret if their lives depended upon it. That’s all,” he curtly added. “When I want you I’ll send for you.”
Without knowing why, Ben mistrusted this man. “Cutter is your name, and I sha’n’t forget you,” he said to himself, as he retraced his steps to North Beach.
Mundon was anxiously awaiting his return.
“Did they snub you? Did you see the head?” he asked.
Ben related his experience.
“You were in luck to see the Collector,” commented Mundon.
“My belief is that the chief’s all right in such cases,—a big man who won’t stoop to no dirty business and who’ll listen to a feller’s story and treat him fair. He’s got a sense of what he’s ben put in office for, by the people, to serve the people. But a smarty clerk who takes delight in snubbing the people who really give him his bread and butter—deliver me from him! He’s gen’rally a failure, a ne’er-do-well, who’s got his place through his second cousin’s husband havin’ a pull, and because he couldn’t support himself and had to be taken care of by his family,—and he just thinks he runs this whole government.”