“Yes, and the time is nearly up. There
he is now.”
Jack looked out, and a strange feeling came over him
as he saw a large man, on an unusually high horse
riding up to the post office.
“Is he the inspector?” asked the pony
rider.
“Yes,” Jennie answered.
Jack shut his teeth grimly, and a strange look came
over his face.
THE CHASE
“On, Jack, what shall I do?” asked Jennie.
She was trembling, and seemed much alarmed.
“Do? Why you don’t have to do anything,”
the pony express rider answered. “Let this
inspector ask his questions, and then we’ll see
what course to take.”
“Oh, but suppose he finds something wrong—not
the proper amount of stamps on hand—I can’t
be sure I counted them right”
“Say, little girl, don’t you worry!”
Jack went on. “I don’t believe this
fellow will do much questioning.”
“Why, Jack, what makes you talk that way?
He’s a government inspector. He told me
so! Do you know him?”
“I rather think I do, but I’m not sure,”
Jack answered. Again there was a grim shutting
of his lips, and a determined look came into his eyes.
“I want to hear him speak first,” the
lad said “Then I can tell better.”
The inspector, if such he were, had stopped outside
the post office to light a cigar. He sat easily
on his big horse, and Jack could not help admiring
the noble animal. The man himself was a fine physical
specimen, but he had a hard, cruel face, and shifty
eyes. There was no one in the immediate vicinity
of the post office at that time, for Jack had delivered
the mail an hour before, and he had sauntered back
to the office, after doing some errands about town,
to have a talk with Jennie. The other mail would
not arrive for another hour, so there was no excuse
for the gathering of the crowd which always awaited
the incoming mail.
Having lighted his cigar, the man again advanced slowly.
He looked all about, Jack thought, to see if he was
likely to be interfered with, but this may not have
been so.
He dismounted with easy grace, and tied his horse
to a post in front of the office. Then he sauntered
in. Jack sat down in a chair behind a door, out
of sight. He did not want the inspector to see
him until the right moment.
“Well, Miss—er—Blake,
I believe you said your name was,” began the
man, and his tone was insolent, “I suppose you
are ready to have me go over your accounts now?”
Jack started at the sound of his voice.
“That’s the fellow—I’m
positive of it!” he thought “Now I’ve
got him—got one of them, anyhow! Oh,
this is luck!”
Jack’s eyes gleamed.
Jennie hardly knew what to make of the situation.
She half expected Jack to do something, or say something,
to help her.
Still she was postmistress, and only she was qualified
to answer the official questions. But if something
was wrong?
