CHAPTER XXXV.

THE TRUTH AT LAST.

Little Snap, without stopping to reply, sprang into the saddle and dashed away, meeting no one until he reached Daring's Diamond.

"I owe you an apology, Dix," was the postmaster's greeting, as he came down the steps to meet him. "Since you were here last evening I have heard of your thrilling experience with that runaway river, and I hope you will forgive me for speaking as I did. You deserve special reward for your bravery, and you are going to get it, too."

To the postboy's surprise, a dozen others pressed around him, with kind words of praise.

"What is that we hear about Mr. Rimmon?" asked Mr. Anderson. "Of course, I don't believe the stories, and Jason Warfield's friends are making a mistake in circulating them. By the way, boys, I suppose you all know there is to be a big rally here to-night for the ambitious colonel. He is to address the people on the issues of the day, as he calls them."

"Have you found anything of those missing letters?" asked Little Snap.

"Not a sign. That beats me. It is the first time we have lost anything here. But the culprit is sure to be found out soon."

Then, stepping nearer to the postboy, he whispered:

"There's a government detective somewhere in these parts. But mum's the word."

His spirits still in the ascendant, Little Snap pursued his way, to be met at the Hollow Tree with an altogether different reception.

"'Pears to me yer stock of imperdence is equal to yer rascality," said Shag, who was sitting in the doorway, smoking a black clay pipe.

"Here is the mail pouch, Mr. Shag. You were not here last evening, so I could not leave yesterday's up mail."

"The rules and regulations don't say I shall keep the offis open all night to 'commodate a postman who comes erlong when he's a mind to."

"You knew well enough I would come as soon as circumstances would permit."

"I know a mighty sight better thet ye won't hev a chance to repeat yer slipshod way o' doin' bizness arter to-day. Put thet in yer pipe an' smoke it."

Having delivered this speech, Mr. Shag entered his humble office to sort the mail, followed by Little Snap, who had firmly decided to watch every postmaster on the route as he handled the mail.

When Shag had clumsily gone through with his examination, he handed the pouch back to the postboy without comment.

Though plied with questions, Little Snap made his trip without any incident worth recording, until he got back to Salt Works, when he was met with the surprising statement:

"What does this mean, Dix Lewis? Here is a letter directed to 'Old Solitaire, care of Dix Lewis.'"

Unable to credit his ears, Little Snap leaned forward so he could read the address. There was no mistake, though he could hardly believe it.

"It's for the old man, sure," said the postmaster. "At last his long-looked-for letter has come."

"Yes, and I am so glad. I will take it to him, Mr. Rawson."

Never had Little Snap watched for the old hermit as he did that day, while he climbed the ascent leading to the live oak.

"He is there! I wonder what he will say? I hope he will let me know the message it brings.

"Hurrah, Uncle Solitaire!" he cried, the next moment, rising in his seat and waving the missive over his head; "it has come at last!"

Somehow, he was disappointed at the calm manner in which the other took the letter.

"All things come to the patient, and I knew it would come some time. Please accept my thanks, Postboy of the Kanawha, and if you do not find me at my post to-morrow, you shall meet me elsewhere."

With these words he turned away, and Little Snap had nothing to do but to ride on.

"Who can it have been from, and does it contain good news or bad? I would give considerable to know. What could he have meant by saying I might see him elsewhere?"

Busy in his mind over such reflections, the postboy safely passed the wildest part of his long journey, to come into Greenbrier on time.

"Well," said Budd Grass, the postmistress, as she took the pouch from his hands, "I judge by your promptness that you have got through to-day without trouble."

"No trouble; but I have got a bit of news to tell. Uncle Solitaire has got his letter at last."

"You don't say! How I would like to look over his shoulder while he reads it. I have always felt a strange interest in that man. There is a new book on the shelf near you. Perhaps you would like to look it over while I am sorting the mail. I find it is terribly tedious to wait in idleness."

Little Snap took the book, as she had suggested, but while apparently scanning its pages, he stood so his gaze did not leave her.

No postmaster on the route had escaped his scrutiny so far, and he was determined that even the fair Budd Grass should not escape. More than that, he was resolved to be doubly vigilant, for it had at last dawned upon his mind that at this office he had more reason for suspicion than at any other.

It so happened that no one was in sight, a fact that he regretted.

With deft fingers the postmistress ran through the several pieces of mail matter, until the postboy's heart fairly stopped its beating, as he saw a letter thrust dextrously up one of her flowing sleeves.

Scarcely had this letter disappeared before it was followed by another!

Still turning the leaves of the book, Little Snap stood there and saw her secrete four letters in that same roomy receptacle.

Then she calmly closed the pouch, and fastened the strap as she had done hundreds of times before.

Little Snap felt a peculiar feeling of wonder and pity steal over him as he realized what his discovery meant. But as she started to hand him the pouch, he exclaimed, sharply:

"Hold, Budd Grass! You move at the peril of your life!"

Her countenance suddenly lost its color, as she asked, in a husky voice:

"What do you mean, Dix Lewis?"

"Just what I say, Miss Grass. You are not to move until I tell you that you may!"