"Did he? What became of him?"
"That's what puzzles 'em. They can't git no clew to him. He cleared about two months ago, and they hain't seen hide nor hair on him sence. Do you know him?"
"Know whom?" I asked, startled by this direct question.
"Buck Bradford, the feller that robbed the mail and run away."
"Why do you ask?"
"O, nothin'; only the postmaster here told me to tell Captain Fishley that a letter came here for Buck Bradford, and that a young feller took it out. You haven't seen nothin' on him—have you?"
I did not choose to answer this question, and I edged off, without making any reply. It appeared that I was generally known in Torrentville as the mail robber, who had run away to escape the consequences of his crime. The reflection galled me; but the day of redemption was at hand. I did not quite like it that the postmaster had sent word of my presence in Riverport to my tyrants; for I did not wish to be taken up before the arrival of my most important witness. I deemed it prudent, therefore, to keep out of sight to some extent, though I did not put myself out much about it.
Squire Fishley did not come on the second day after our arrival, to my very great disappointment, for I began to fear that I should be snapped up by some greedy constable. The keeper of the hotel, who did not recognize me in the trim suit I wore, had a very handsome keel boat, prettily painted, which he kept for the use of the pleasure travel frequenting his house. Sim and I had rowed our friends up and down the river in this boat, and I engaged it for the third day, as soon as I found that the senator was not a passenger on the down-river steamer. I intended to make a long excursion in her, as much to keep myself out of the way, as for the fun of it. I invited Emily and Flora to go, and they gladly accepted the invitation.
THE ARREST OF BUCK BRADFORD.—Page [277].