Happily, a man who knew Andy looked in for a letter, paid the postage of
fourpence on it, and then settled the dispute between Andy and the
postmaster by mentioning Mr. Egan's name.

"Why didn't you tell me you came from the squire?" said the postmaster.
"Here's a letter for him. Elevenpence postage."

"Elevenpence postage!" Andy cried. "Didn't I see you give that man a
letther for fourpence, and a bigger letther than this? Do you think I'm
a fool?"

"No," said the postmaster; "I'm sure of it."

He walked off to serve another customer, and Andy meditated. His master
wanted the letter badly, so he would have to pay the exorbitant price.
He snatched two other letters from the heap on the counter while the
postmaster's back was turned, paid the elevenpence, received the epistle
to which he was entitled, and rode home triumphant.

"Look at that!" he exclaimed, slapping the three letters down under his
broad fist on the table before the astonished squire. "He made me pay
elevenpence, by gor! But I've brought your honour the worth of your
money, anyhow."

"Well, by the powers!" said the squire, as Andy stalked out of the room
with an air of supreme triumph. "That's the most extraordinary genius I
ever came across!"

He read the letter for which he had been anxiously waiting. It was from