conspired to confute the prediction of Ben Moody. Not a dollar was
found in the Fredericksburg mail.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Hondo Bill to the mail-
carrier in solemn tones, "to be packing around such a lot of old,
trashy paper as this. What d'you mean by it, anyhow? Where do you
Dutchers keep your money at?"

The Ballinger mail sack opened like a cocoon under Hondo's knife. It
contained but a handful of mail. Fritz had been fuming with terror and
excitement until this sack was reached. He now remembered Lena's
letter. He addressed the leader of the band, asking that that
particular missive be spared.

"Much obliged, Dutch," he said to the disturbed carrier. "I guess
that's the letter we want. Got spondulicks in it, ain't it? Here she
is. Make a light, boys."

Hondo found and tore open the letter to Mrs. Hildesmuller. The others
stood about, lighting twisted up letters one from another. Hondo gazed
with mute disapproval at the single sheet of paper covered with the
angular German script.

"Whatever is this you've humbugged us with, Dutchy? You call this here
a valuable letter? That's a mighty low-down trick to play on your
friends what come along to help you distribute your mail."

"That's Chiny writin'," said Sandy Grundy, peering over Hondo's
shoulder.