"I thought it was best to bring him right to your honor," declared the sheriff. "It seems to me it will be best to settle this matter with as little delay as possible."
"Exactly," replied the justice, who looked upon the prisoner with a malicious smile on his thin lips.
For some reason known only to himself, he had long cherished a grudge against the Lewis family, and he fondly believed the time had come for him "to get even."
Little Snap looked over the crowd that had filed into the room, until it was completely packed, without seeing any one who seemed to show him any favor. He was puzzled to understand this, and began to think his case might prove more serious than he had anticipated.
Postmaster Rimmon was there, and his words gave the postboy his first ray of hope.
"Isn't this rather premature?" he asked. "It is now nearly nine o'clock in the evening, and the prisoner will have no chance to call his friends to his assistance. Why not wait until to-morrow?"
"You forget, Mr. Rimmon," replied the sheriff, respectfully, but showing that he did not like this interruption, "that it is necessary to come to some decision in this matter to-night, so a man can be obtained to fill his place of duty in the morning. It seems to me we have been very easy with him, and in return he has shown the greatest contempt. What do you think of his coming home this evening, and without saying a word of what he had or had not done, going immediately to his home? This, too, with the grave charges hanging over him."
"I think he deserves great credit for what he has done to-day," replied Mr. Rimmon, warmly. "There is not one in a hundred who would or could have brought the mail through from Salt Works under the circumstances."
"How did you learn all this?"
"From his own lips."