postmark critically.

"Nor I," said the postmaster, rubbing his glasses, and taking another
look. "The postmark is very indistinct."

"There's an n and a p," said Herbert, after a little examination. "I
think it must be Randolph."

"Randolph? So it is, I declare. Have you got any friends or relatives
living there?"

"Yes, my mother's Uncle Herbert, for whom I was named, lives there."

"Then he must be dead."

"What makes you think so?"

"The envelope is edged with black. You had better carry it home before
you go round with the others."

"Perhaps I had," said Herbert. "I'll run, so as not to keep the others
waiting. Deacon Crossleigh is always in a hurry for his paper."

"Yes, the deacon's always in a fidget to know what's going on,
particularly when Congress is in session. He takes a wonderful
interest in politics."

Herbert ran up the street with a quick step, pausing a minute at his
humble home.