Bound to Succeed; or, Mail Order Frank's Chances

by Robert Sidney Bowen

  CHAPTER XXVII

  THE POST-OFFICE INSPECTOR

  “Now then, my friend, behave yourself.”

  “Haven’t I paid the damages?”

  “You have, but don’t get into any further expensive mischief.”

  “H’m!” observed the victim of Dale Wacker’s mail order swindle, “that’sto be seen, if I ever get my hands on the real fellow who robbed me. Asto you, stranger,” to Frank, “just send in your bill double. Sorry Idisturbed you, but we all make mistakes.”

  “No, Mr. Halsey,” replied Frank, “I only ask you to pay the cost of thatwindow you smashed and the door you broke.”

  “How much--let me settle it now,” urged Halsey.

  “I’ll trust you,” said Frank. “I will send the bill when the carpentergets the repairs done.”

  The trial had come off. A small fine had been imposed by the villagejudge on Halsey for his disorderly conduct. The marshal had explainedto him that Frank was not the person who had swindled him. He added thatvery probably through Frank’s investigation they would soon discover theidentity of the United States Mail Order House.

  “You can come with us, but you will have to curb your fightingproclivities,” warned the marshal. “Here is where the law steps in,and you must not interfere with its course.”

  “I came a long way to get satisfaction,” muttered Halsey. “Somehow, I’llhave it too.”

  The marshal led the way, and they were soon mounting the stairs of MainStreet Block. They proceeded quietly, so as to give no warning or createany curiosity with other occupants of the building.

  “There is the door,” said Frank in a guarded tone, as they reached thelanding of the third story.

  The marshal advanced and gave a firm resounding knock on its panels.They could detect a stir within. Then the wicket shot back.

  “Who are you--what do you want? Thunder! it’s the marshal.”

  Frank fancied he recognized the tones as belonging to Dale Wacker.

  “That’s who it is,” answered the official. “Here, here I want a wordwith you, young man.”

  The wicket was shot as suddenly as it had been opened. They could hear aquick scramble in the room beyond.

  “Open this door,” loudly demanded the marshal, resuming his knocking.

  “They won’t do it,” spoke up Halsey, advancing a step. “Say,” liftinghis ponderous fist, “I’ll soon clear the way, if you say the word.”

  “No,” responded the marshal, putting up a detaining hand. “We have nolegal right to invade the premises. Whoever is in there, cannot escape.There is no other stairway leading to the street except this one.”

  “What are you going to do?” asked Frank.

  “Why, you had better go back to the town hall with Halsey,” advised theofficer. “See the clerk, and let Halsey swear out a criminal warrantagainst Dale Wacker and others concerned in a swindling scheme at thisplace.”

  “All right,” nodded Frank. “Come Mr. Halsey, let us make haste.”

  “I will save you any delay, gentlemen,” spoke up a new voice.

  All three turned, to observe a keen-faced, bright-eyed man who had comequickly up the stairs. There was a certain half-military, half-officialprecision to his make up that at once impressed Frank.

  “Yes,” continued the newcomer, coming forward on the landing as thoughhe had a perfect right there, “I’ll soon get action here. You are thetown marshal, I believe?”

  “That’s right,” nodded the officer, regarding the speaker in somewonderment.

  “Well, I am a post-office inspector. Came on a telegram. Got the birdscaged in there? Give me a few facts, will you?”

  The marshal briefly recited his suspicions and the case of Halsey. Theinspector as tersely told of a telegram the post-office department hadreceived, exposing the operations of the United States Mail Order House.Frank at once decided that Stet was its author.

  “No dilatory fraud order case here,” observed the inspector briskly.“It’s got to be a raid, I see. Here, let me have a try. In there!”called out the official in a loud tone of voice, pounding on the doorpanels, “open in the name of the law, or we shall be obliged to useforce.”

  There was no response whatever to this mandatory challenge. Theinspector placed his ear to the door. Then he said sharply.

  “Watch out close. I will be back at once.”

  “He’s brought the locksmith with him,” announced the marshal a fewminutes later, peering over the banisters. “Those government fellowsact pretty swiftly when they make up their minds. We haven’t the powerthat they have.”

  The inspector, arrived with the locksmith, ordered the latter to openthe door.

  Frank looked about him curiously as, the door once opened, all handspassed into the room beyond. Its tables were littered with envelopes,circulars and letters.

  The big lodge chamber was partitioned off at one end by a cambriccurtain. Here there was a couch, a small oil stove and some eatablesand dishes, evidences of light housekeeping on the premises.

  The inspector darted about from corner to corner, and into all thelittle apartments that had formerly been in service as lodge and rooms.

  “H’m,” he observed, coming back from his inspection to the others,“birds have flown.”

  He moved to an open window. Pendant from an iron shutter hinge was astrong portable knotted fire escape. Its ground end trailed into aninside court of the building.

  “If you think you know the people who were here and who have certainlyescaped,” suggested the inspector to the marshal, “you had better getyour men on their track before they leave town.”

  “All right,” said the marshal glumly making for the door.

  “Here, I’m in on that arrangement,” observed Halsey.

  The inspector with an eagle glance at the letters on the tables and abusiness-like air, sat down to look over a mass of correspondence lyingbefore him. Frank went up to him.

  “Can I be of any assistance to you, sir?” he asked.

  “You helped in this thing. Yes, yes you can help me,” said the inspector.“Take this note to the local postmaster, will you?”

  The inspector wrote a few words on his own card. It summoned thepostmaster. The inspector directed that official to deliver all futuremail of the Wacker outfit to himself or his representative.

  When the postmaster was gone the inspector impressed Frank into service.This consisted in sorting out the letters and taking down the names ofthe persons who had been swindled.

  “Now you can go for the marshal, if you will,” said the inspector, aboutan hour later.

  Frank found that official just returned from an unsuccessful search forDale Wacker and the old man with the big beard, his presumable partner,whom Stet had vaguely described to Frank.

  “I must catch the afternoon train for the city and make my report toheadquarters,” said the inspector, when Frank returned to him with themarshal. “I want you to put a trustworthy custodian in charge here untilwe can send a regular man to close up the matter, and start after thoseswindlers.”

  “I’ll put one of my deputies in charge,” said the marshal. “As to Wackerand his partner, they’re probably safe and far by this time.”

  The inspector regarded the speaker with a half-pitying,half-contemptuous look.

  “That’s as may be,” he observed, “for the present. We don’t let mattersdrop that easily, ourselves. There’s something you mustn’t forgetofficer: When the United States Government gets after a guilty man, ifhe fled to the furthest corners of the earth, we never let up till wefind him.”