The newcomer was Austin Goings.
"Whew! what is the trouble, Dix Lewis?" he asked.
"I wish you would call in Mr. Renders as soon as possible."
"What! have you caught the thief, my boy?" asked Mr. Goings, as his countenance lightened. "In that case, I am more capable of helping you than Mr. Renders. I am post office inspector, and I am here with full authority to arrest whomever I find has been tampering with Uncle Sam's property. What is your charge against this woman, Dix Lewis?"
"She has four letters in her sleeve, and I have reason to——"
"It's a mistake!" she broke in, excitedly. "If there are any letters in my sleeve they got there by accident. They are large—oh, my Lord, there are!"
The last exclamation was called forth by the sudden appearance of the concealed mail as she held her arm so the sleeve was turned downward.
Austin Goings was already entering the private office, when she turned to him with an agonizing look, saying:
"Don't arrest me, sir! It was an accident."
"If it was, you shall have ample time to prove it. But for the present, Miss Grass, you must consider yourself my prisoner."