"And what did he say?"

"Nothing; he didn't return them."

"Naturally," said Mr. Home, with a peculiar expression. After a few
moments' silent stroking of his beard, he suddenly faced the frightened
woman.

"You oblige me, Mrs. Baker, to speak more frankly to you than I had
intended. You have--unwittingly, I believe--given information to a man
whom the Government suspects of peculation. You have, without knowing
it, warned the postmaster at Hickory Hill that he is suspected; and,
as you might have frustrated our plans for tracing a series of
embezzlements to their proper source, you will see that you might have
also done great wrong to yourself as his only neighbor and the next
responsible person. In plain words, we have traced the disappearance of
money letters to a point when it lies between these two offices. Now,
I have not the least hesitation in telling you that we do not suspect
Laurel Run, and never have suspected it. Even the result of your
thoughtless act, although it warned him, confirms our suspicion of his
guilt. As to the warning, it has failed, or he has grown reckless, for
another letter has been missed since. To-night, however, will settle all
doubt in the matter. When I open that bag in this office to-night, and
do not find a certain decoy letter in it, which was last checked at
Heavy Tree Crossing, I shall know that it remains in Green's possession
at Hickory Hill."

She was sitting back in her chair, white and breathless. He glanced at
her kindly, and then took up his hat. "Come, Mrs. Baker, don't let this