"It does not belong to me to do that. I have brought it as far as the law requires me to. I will wait here the allotted seven minutes; if at the end of that time you have not sorted the mail, I shall go on to the next office."
"Bully for you, Little Snap!" cried some one from the crowd.
Without speaking, the postmaster stepped down from the step and took the pouch, to carry it into the office.
A part of the crowd followed him into the building, Meiggs among the rest.
Little Snap was beginning to get impatient over the long time the postmaster was taking in sorting the mail, when the latter appeared at the door.
"Look here, Lewis! There are letters missing. I have advice that there were a certain number of registered letters in the mail, and five are not here. How do you account for that?"
"I do not know, Mr. Anderson. Why should you expect me to know?"
"For the very best reason in the world!" broke in Meiggs. "The reason that you know about their loss and where they are."
"Is the pouch ready for me, Mr. Anderson?" asked the postboy. "The time is up."
"Hear the impudence!" again broke in Meiggs. "Are you going to let him bluff you like this, Anderson?"