no crawl in dis?"

"No. How much were they worth?"

The boy hesitated, and scanned her face, as if he were measuring the girl
more than he was his loss. "Dere wuz twinty _Joinals_" he said, speaking
slowly, and his eyes watching her as a cat might a mouse,
"an'--an'--twinty _Woilds_--an'--an' tirty _Telegrams_--an'--an'--" He
drew a fresh breath, as if needing strength, shot an apprehensive glance
at the roundsman, and went on hurriedly, in a lower voice, "an' tirty-five
_Posts_--"

"Ah, g'long with you," broke in the policeman, disgustedly. "He didn't
have mor'n twenty in all, that I know."

"Hope I may die if Ise didn't have all dem papes, boss," protested the
boy.

"You deserve to be run in, that's what you do," asserted the officer of
the law, angrily.

"Oh, don't threaten him," begged Miss Durant.

"Don't you be fooled by him, mum. He ain't the kind as sells _Posts_, an'
if he was, he wouldn't have more'n five."

"It's de gospel trute Ise chuckin' at youse dis time," asserted the
youngster.

"Gospel Ananias--!" began the officer.