"No! no!" shouted the bystanders.
I had seen Buckner running down the middle of the narrow street, with the officer, Nick, Peverell, and others, within a few feet of him. It would have been almost impossible for him to get rid of the bundle in any way without being observed.
"He might have thrown it into the river," again suggested Nick.
"He done don't go widin twenty yards ob de riber; and he done don't frow no package in de riber when I don't see him. Dis chile hab his four eyes open all de time," added the policeman.
"Search him!" "Turn him inside out!" shouted the crowd again.
"Search me all you like!" cried Buckner, pulling out both the pockets of his pants, and throwing up his arms in readiness to submit to the operation. "I haven't got the package, and I never saw it."
"How big was de package, Mr. Peverell?" asked the officer, as he proceeded to examine the clothing of the prisoner.
"It was the size of a bank-bill, and about two inches thick," replied the messenger, very anxiously.
"I don't find noffin like dat on dis yere prisonder," said the officer, when he had felt his man all over.
"You won't find nothing if you search me all day and all night," protested Buckner; and there was something like a proud dignity in his manner, though he was not a good-looking man.