"I see. Then it would not be possible for a man to hand you a sealed package weighing over seven ounces, and bearing only three two-cent stamps and a ten-cent stamp for registration--you wouldn’t give him his registry receipt under such circumstances?" "Certainly not, sir," replied the postal clerk. "The package, being sealed, would have to go as first-class mail; and if it weighed a fraction more than seven ounces it would require sixteen cents postage in addition to the registry fee." "Thank you, Mr. Adams," said counsel for the defense, opening a wooden box and producing a small pair of official post-office scales. "Now, will you please take these scales and this watch and tell the jury how much the watch weighs?" "Exactly five ounces, sir," replied the witness, after he had carried out these instructions. "And now please weigh this leather watchcase, and the box it was sent in. What is their combined weight?" "Two and a half ounces, sir." "Thank you. So the watch, the leather case, and the box together would weigh seven and a half ounces, and if sent by first-class mail would require sixteen cents postage, and an additional ten cents for registry, would they not?" "They certainly would." "And the empty leather case and the box alone would require just six cents in postage?" "Of course." "Very good," said the lawyer, with a chuckle. "Now, take a look at this wrapper--the wrapper which was around the package from which my client is alleged to have stolen the watch--and tell the jury how many stamps you find there, Mr. Adams." "Three two-cent stamps and a ten-cent stamp," announced the witness. "Consequently the package, when it was handed in at your window for registry could not have contained the watch, could it, Mr. Adams?" demanded Judge Lawrence, looking triumphantly toward the jury. "It positively could not, sir," replied the postal clerk. "Otherwise when I weighed it I should have noticed the discrepancy in postage." "Well, for the love of Mike!" muttered Jake Hines, his face turning the color of chalk. "Gee! What a fierce break!" Fifteen minutes later a taxicab drew up in front of the headquarters of the Samuel J. Coggswell Association, and a young man jumped out, dashed frantically into the clubhouse, and up the stairs. "Well, Jake?" demanded Boss Coggswell, as the young man burst into the room. "The whole thing’s busted, boss!" gasped Hines, the sweat streaming down his face. "Sheridan’s acquitted! We made a bad break not puttin’ enough stamps on the package, and they’ve got Bill Warren and the pawnbroker’s clerk on the rack now, tryin’ to make ’em squeal." "Holy smoke!" gasped Coggswell, jumping up from his chair. "That sounds bad, Jake--very bad. Do you suppose those fellows will squeal?"