The Mail Carrier

by Harry Castlemon

Bob’s first impulse was, to take to his heels, but he thought better of it, and obeyed the man’s command to “hold up!” “What do you want?” he asked.

“Wal, nothing much, now, only we don’t want you to go away without saying good-by; that’s all.”

“Why don’t you want me to go away?” asked Bob.

“’Kase why, for a reason. We want to know something about that hoss of your’n first.”

“The proprietor of the store already knows all I have to tell about both myself and my horse,” returned Bob.

“Wal, it don’t just suit us,” said the man, shutting up his knife and putting it into his pocket. “The constable has been waiting for you to get done your breakfast, and then he’s going to ride down to Rochdale with you. If you live thar you must have friends who can vouch for you.”

“But I don’t want to go back to Rochdale,” exclaimed Bob. “It will delay me, and I can’t afford to waste any time.”

“It needn’t delay you longer than to-morrow. Let’s go round where the boys are.”

The “boys” were the idlers, whom Bob and his captor found sitting on the dry-goods boxes in front of the store. One of them, a fat, red-faced, jolly-looking man, arose from his seat as the boy came up, and, placing one hand on his shoulder, remarked, that he should be obliged to hold him, in the name of the law, until Bob could satisfy him that he was all right, and that he had come honestly by the horse he had brought into the settlement that morning. Bob hardly heard a word the officer said to him, for he was too nearly overcome with bewilderment and alarm to hear anything. Besides, he was thinking too busily; trying to conjure up some plan for bringing himself safely out of this, the worst difficulty he had ever been in. He had longed for a life of excitement and adventure, but he had not looked for it to begin before he had been twelve hours away from home. It looked, now, as though his first adventure was destined to be his last. It certainly would be, if he allowed the constable to take him back to Rochdale.

Having performed his duty, and placed Bob under arrest, the officer for the next half hour paid no attention to his prisoner. He returned to his seat on the dry-goods box, and talked with his friends about the crops and the weather, leaving Bob to commune undisturbed with his own gloomy thoughts, and to stand or sit, as he pleased. The idlers improved the opportunity thus presented to stare hard at the supposed horse-thief, and Bob was greatly relieved when the constable, having at last talked himself dry of words, arose from his box with the remark, that he reckoned they had better go home. Bob gladly obeyed the order to pick up his valise and follow him; and as they walked toward the officer’s house, which was located on the main road, about half a mile from the landing, he began to make some inquiries regarding the treatment he might expect: for this was a matter that troubled him not a little. To his great joy and surprise, he found that, if he was willing to behave himself, he would be placed under very little restraint. The constable said he could not go to Rochdale with him that day, as he had some important business of his own to attend to, but he would start with him early in the morning, and, if Bob could prove to his satisfaction that he was an honest traveller, as he represented himself to be, he would be very glad of it. Meanwhile, as there was no “cooler” in the settlement to put him into for safe-keeping, Bob must remain under the eye of the constable all the time. If he would promise to make no attempt at escape, he would be allowed the free use of his hands and feet; but, if he would not make that promise, he (the officer) would be obliged to put a pair of handcuffs on him. Bob’s blood ran cold at the mere mention of such a thing. He hastened to give the required promise, adding emphasis to it by declaring that the sooner he was allowed an opportunity to show that the good people of Linwood were badly mistaken in him, the better he would like it. The constable seemed entirely satisfied, and from that moment scarcely looked at his prisoner. Probably he thought that, because Bob was a boy, he had nothing to fear from him.