"And—and—" he finished up, almost blubberin', "there was a great big hole in that pocket and I didn't know it."
"I did," says I, involuntary, so to speak. "Never mind. Heave ahead."
"And the letter must have dropped out of it. When I got a little ways up the road I found 'twas gone. I didn't dast tell Ike or you. I—I didn't dast to. Ike would kill me if I told him, and—and—Oh, please, Cap'n Zeb, don't put me in jail! I don't know where the letter is. Honest, I don't! Please ..." and so on.
Peters cut him short. "There!" says he, "that'll do. Kelley, you go out on the platform and wait till we need you. Go ahead! Shut up—and go."
Sim went, but I cal'late if we'd listened we could have heard the platform boards tremblin' underneath where he was standin'.
Peters looked at me and grinned. 'Twas my time to rub my forehead.
"Well!" says I. "Well, I—I.... Is he lyin'?"
"Didn't act like it, did he?"
"No-o, he didn't. But—but, if he took that letter, how did it get back onto that sortin' table?"
"How do you know it did?"