Thus matters went on for some time longer, when one day, very much to my surprise, Pat entered the post master's room, and with a woe-begone look, and most melancholy tone of voice, commenced apologizing for his apparent neglect of duty. I was busily engaged in writing at the time, and so continued, hoping that he would not recognise me, as it afterwards appeared he did not.
"Misther Fowler," says he, "I wish to spake to your honor about meself. Ye see, sir, I've been unfortunate, and didn't come to me task; and the cause is, sir, that I've been sick meself with a terrible diarrhœe (placing his hand on his abdominal region,) and what is more painful than that (still keeping his hand in the same position, instead of changing it to the region of the heart,) I have buried a darling boy, your honor; and sure isn't it enough to turn the brain of a poor divil? Ah, may the like on't niver happen to yourself, sir!"
And a big tear rolling down his cheek, attested the sincerity of his grief.
A momentary fear that the post master might intimate something of our suspicions, was speedily relieved by his shrewdly remarking that he was sorry for his (Pat's) misfortunes, and that he had no fault to find, except that he ought to have sent more particular word as to the cause of his detention.
Pat thanked his employer, and backing out of the room, promised to be at his post that night.
"Well, what do you think of him?" inquired the postmaster.
"I think," said I, "that if he is the robber, and can come here and appear in that way, he is smarter than either of us. But we shall see."
For the week following, but few of his movements were unknown to me. His duties at night were very indifferently performed, and the hours during the day usually improved by the other night clerks for rest, were by him devoted to dissipation; so that, before half the night had passed, he would often be found in some out of the way place, fast asleep.
His discharge (which he no doubt desired) was thought best, in order to throw him upon his own resources, with the hope of bringing to light some of the stolen funds, if they were still in his hands. Much of the money, which amounted in all to some $8000, could be identified. The Middletown package of §2000 consisted of small bills, put up in parcels of §200 each; and upon every bill there was a mark by which it could be readily known. Up to this time none of the money contained in this package or the others, except that mentioned as coming from Vermont, had found its way to the banks by which it was issued.
One day, about noon, I observed Pat's giant-like form crossing Broadway, and for more than an hour I followed him without his knowledge, until he brought up in a stone-cutter's establishment. As I passed and repassed the door, I thought I observed him paying over some bank-notes to the occupant. After he had left, I stepped in, and was soon in possession of three $5 notes of the Middletown (Ct.) Bank, with which he had paid for the grave-stones of "his darling boy!" The bills were clearly a part of the §2000 Middletown package, being of the same denomination, and exhibiting the same unmistakable marks.