Hines nodded gloomily. "I’m afraid so, governor. That pawnbroker’s clerk is a white-livered rat; it won’t take long to break down his nerve; and Bill Warren ain’t much to be depended on when his own hide’s in danger. I’m afraid we’re in bad this time, boss--up against it for fair." For five minutes Samuel J. Coggswell agitatedly paced the floor. Suddenly he halted and turned to Hines, a queer look on his face. "Jake," he said, "you’re looking bad--very bad, indeed, my boy. You need a change of climate--a little trip for your health. Do you understand?" "You mean you want me to beat it, governor?" "Yes, at once! Better start right now to pack your suit case. If you need any money I’ll sign a check for any amount you want. The bank isn’t closed yet." Hines nodded gloomily. "Yes, I guess you’re right. I’d better go. If those fellers squeal--and I’m pretty sure they will--New York’s no place for me just now. But how about yourself, boss? What are you goin’ to do?" "Oh, I’ll stay, Jake--stay and face the music," replied Coggswell, a smile of resignation on his face. "As long as you’re safe, I don’t care much what happens to me." Hines would have been more touched by this unselfishness on the part of his chief if he had not observed that the latter’s ears were wagging furiously while he spoke. CHAPTER XIV. AN INFLUENTIAL FRIEND. As Jake Hines tremulously informed Boss Coggswell, the jury had brought in a verdict of "Not guilty" in the case of Owen Sheridan. That one little slip on the part of the conspirators--their failure to put on the package sufficient stamps to cover the weight of the watch it was supposed to contain--enabled Judge Lawrence to convince the jurors that his client was the victim of a "frame-up." In his summing up he showed how the wholesale liquor dealer, William Warren, could easily have deceived the two reputable business men who testified that they had seen the watch placed in the package. He pointed out that both of these witnesses had admitted that during the walk to the post office the package had been in Warren’s pocket. How simple for him to have had a duplicate package in the same pocket, and hand it in at the registry window instead of the box which contained the watch. The jury deliberated less than ten minutes before they acquitted the accused carrier. Later that day the pawnbroker’s clerk, after a long and grueling examination, broke down, and confessed that he had committed perjury when he had sworn that Owen had pledged the watch. Carrier Sheridan had not been in the pawnshop at all that day, he admitted. The watch had been pawned by Bill Warren himself, who had offered him a hundred dollars to swear that Owen had conducted the transaction. As he knew the letter carrier by sight, it had been an easy matter for the pawnbroker’s clerk to pick him out unhesitatingly from a group of twenty other carriers, and thus satisfy the post-office inspectors that he was telling the truth.