Ten Years Among the Mail Bags Part 38

"Thank ye," said Mr. Wilc.o.x; "I'll do as much for you some time. May as well bolt right in, I suppose?" he added, consulting his companion.

John Harmon said "certainly," and the next moment the two found themselves in the midst of the clerks of that important Bureau. Mr.

Forrester Wilson singled out one of the most approachable of them, and addressed him on the subject of the hundred dollar letter.

"I have no recollection of any such letter," said the clerk. However, for the visitor's satisfaction, he examined the list of returned money letters, for the last quarter. John Harmon, interested for his friend Wilc.o.x, also ran his eye over the list.

"It's not here," said the clerk; "but you may rest a.s.sured, that in case it is at any time discovered, it will find its way back to you in safety."

He was about to dismiss the visitors, but John Harmon coughed; John Harmon looked very red. John Harmon was perspiring very profusely. The truth is, among the last letters on the list, he found recorded the identical one, containing the twenty dollar bank note, which Blake was charged with purloining! What to do in the matter, John Harmon was at a loss to know. After some hesitation, however, he asked permission to glance once more at the list. He was accommodated, and presently his finger rested on the important entry.

"I declare," said he, "if there ain't a letter I mailed at Harrowfork!

I had no idea of finding it here! Can I get it now, by proving property?"

"It has already been returned to your address," answered the clerk, on learning the circ.u.mstances. "You will find it on your return to Harrowfork. It miscarried in consequence of a mistake in the superscription."

"Are you sure it has been sent?" inquired John Harmon.

The clerk was quite sure, and John Harmon instantly withdrew.

"So there's one of your charges agin Blake knocked overboard,"

suggested Wilc.o.x. "He'll be a little grain tickled to see that 'ere letter come back, I s'pect!"

"No person," answered John Harmon, magnanimously, "no person in the world can be more rejoiced than I am, that Blake is proved innocent of the charge."

Wilc.o.x replied that he was very glad to hear it; and so they parted to meet again at dinner. Whether John Harmon was so greatly rejoiced at the proof of Blake's innocence, will be seen in the sequel.

While the Down Easter went to see the lions about town, our delegate found his way to the apartment of the Post Master General, and inquired for that officer in a manner which said very plainly, "I am John Harmon, of Harrowfork; and I guess now we'll have that little post-office affair settled."

Unfortunately--or rather fortunately, for his own peace of mind, at least, the Post Master General was engaged that morning at Cabinet meeting at the White House, and John Harmon was referred to the First a.s.sistant, who listened patiently to his statement. Our delegate had a speech prepared for the occasion, which he now declaimed in a very high tone of voice, "with a swaggering accent, sharply tw.a.n.ged off,"

as Sir Toby Belch would have said, and with vehement and abundant gestures.

"I am instructed by my const.i.tuents," he said, in conclusion, "to demand of the Department satisfactory reasons for the delay and procrastination to which we have been obliged tamely to submit!"

"You should consider," politely returned the a.s.sistant, "that Harrowfork numbers only one among some twenty-four thousand post-offices in the Union; and that it is a little unreasonable to expect us to bear in mind all the details of an occasional and not uncommon case. We will attend to your business, however, directly."

The papers relating to the Harrowfork Post-Office were sent for, and promptly produced. The delegate seized them without ceremony. The first endors.e.m.e.nt that caught his eye, checked his eagerness, and induced reflection.

"I'd like to know, sir," said he, "_what that means_?" as he called the a.s.sistant's attention to the Word "REST," inscribed in formidable characters, very much resembling the hand-writing of the Post Master General.

"If you think," he continued, "or imagine, or flatter yourselves that you're to have any kind of _rest_ in this marble building, till that rascally Blake is turned out, you're very much mistaken. Or if it means that you want the _rest_ of the temperance men in favor of his removal, I can promise you so much, on my responsibility as a delegate."

The a.s.sistant smiled. He had dealt with persons of John Harmon's temperament before.

"Permit me to inform you," said he, "what that harmless little word signifies. It means nothing more nor less than that, for the present, no action is to take place. Ah!" he added, glancing at the brief upon the papers, "I remember this case very well! It has been from first to last an exceedingly vexatious one to the Department, and these memoranda bring it pretty fully to my recollection."

"Well, sir," interrupted John Harmon, in his declamatory way--"isn't it plain? isn't it perfectly clear? Haven't we the rights of the case, sir?"

"It is not quite so plain--not quite so clear--nor is it easy to determine who has the rights of the case," returned the official. "The most troublesome point at the present time, seems to be this: while, according to the doc.u.ments, a majority of the citizens of Harrowfork seem to be eager for a removal, both the late member of Congress, and the newly elected one, have written private letters here--I mention this confidentially--in favor of the present inc.u.mbent."

"You don't mean Ames?" cried John Harmon. "Ames hasn't come out for Blake?"

"There is a letter on file, over his own signature, in which he represents that Blake is as suitable a man as could be named, and that he had better be continued in office."

The a.s.sistant spoke with seriousness and candor. John Harmon was thunderstruck.

"Just give me a look at that letter!" said he, through his closed teeth. "I want to see it over Ames' own fist, before I believe it!

When we promised our support for his election, he agreed to carry out our wishes in regard to the post-office, at all hazards! If he has dared to turn traitor!" muttered John Harmon, revengefully.

"The letter is entirely of a private nature," said the a.s.sistant, "but it is contrary to our wishes to keep any communications secret, that are designed to influence our public acts; and owing to the peculiar circ.u.mstances of the case, I am willing to show you the letter,--on condition, however, that its contents shall not be divulged outside the Department."

John Harmon, burning to seize upon the evidence of Ames' treachery, a.s.sented, although reluctantly; and the official explored the wilderness of papers, for the doc.u.ment in question. "Here it is," said he, "no!"--glancing at the endors.e.m.e.nt--"this is a communication with regard to a letter of your own, containing a twenty dollar note, which Blake is charged with purloining. How is it about that? anything new?"

"Well,--no,--hem!" coughed John Harmon. After discovering the proof of Blake's innocence, in the Dead Letter Office, he rather hoped the subject would not be mentioned; but he was too much absorbed in looking after Ames' honesty, to take very good care of his own. "The matter--hem!" (John's throat was quite musty)--"stands about as it did."

"You have no positive proof of the charge, then?"

"No,--well,--that is, not what would be called legal proof, I suppose.

The circ.u.mstances were very strong against Blake at the time, but being all in the neighborhood, n.o.body liked to prosecute. For my part," said John Harmon, n.o.bly, "I'd rather suffer wrong, than do wrong, and I preferred to lose the twenty dollars, to injuring Blake's private character."

The a.s.sistant made a commendatory remark touching this generous sentiment, and pa.s.sed over the letter. John Harmon wiped the perspiration from his brow, and felt relieved. Whether he was ashamed to confess his own gross carelessness in the matter, and the injustice of his charge, or whether--acting on the principle of doing evil that good might come from it, he determined to make the most of every point established against Blake, without regard to truth--does not plainly appear. We leave the affair to his own conscience.

The a.s.sistant meanwhile drew Ames' letter out of the "case." In his eagerness to grasp it, John Harmon dropped it upon the floor. As he stooped to take it up, his eye caught a glimpse of a visitor who had just entered. John Harmon looked at the visitor, the visitor looked at John Harmon. John Harmon looked first red, then white; the visitor looked first very white, then very red. The delegate was the first to resume his self-possession.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Well, friend Ames, how do you do?" said he, adroitly shifting the letter from his right hand to the left, and giving the former to the "Honorable" member.

"Very well! Capital!" replied Ames, nervously. "What's the news?"

"Nothing particular," said John Harmon, with a grim smile, sliding the letter into his hat. "Fine weather--Good deal of company at Washington, I find."

"O yes, considerable!" Ames rubbed his hands, and tried to appear at ease. "I am glad to see you here. You must go up to the House with me.

How are all the folks at home? How's Harrowfork now-a-days?"

John Harmon answered these questions evasively.

At the same time, the a.s.sistant's countenance betrayed an inward appreciation of unspeakable fun. The member's face grew redder still, and still more red. The truth is, he had that morning received a note from Blake warning him of Harmon's journey to the Capital, and had just left his seat in the House, hastening to the Department, to secure the fatal letter before it betrayed his treachery.

As we have seen, he was just too late.

The a.s.sistant took pleasure in seating the two visitors side by side upon the same sofa, and allowed them to entertain each other. But the conversation was forced, unnatural, embarra.s.sing. At length Ames, resolved upon knowing the worst, plunged desperately into the all-important subject.

"I suppose," said he, "you don't entirely get over the excitement at home about the post-office."

"No, we don't," replied John Harmon, significantly; "and that ain't the worst of it." He bent over the end of the sofa, and deliberately, with the grimmest sort of smile, drew from his hat the Honorable member's private note.

"And, somehow, it don't strike me," he added, glancing his eye over its contents, "that this letter of yours is going to lessen the excitement very materially. I suppose you know that hand-writing?"

He thrust the letter into the Honorable member's face. The Honorable member's face flushed more fiery than before. He stammered, he smiled, he rubbed his handkerchief in his hands, and upon his brow.