Ten Years Among the Mail Bags: Or, Notes from the Diary of a Special Agent of the Post-Office DepartmentHolbrook, James
History
Ten Years Among the Mail Bags: Or, Notes from the Diary of a Special Agent of the Post-Office Department
Holbrook, James
Postal service -- United States
"I will do all in my power," said Carleton. "Although I would be
almost willing to pledge my own reputation that the losses have
occurred outside of the office, I will use every exertion to discover
any dereliction from duty that may come within my sphere of
observation."
The Agent expressed his thanks for the clerk's ready promise of
coöperation, and took his leave.
Meanwhile he did not neglect other measures that he had adopted for
tracing the robberies. By a singular coincidence, within an hour after
this conversation with Carleton, he was able to seize a certain clue,
which he had long been in search of, and despaired of obtaining.
On his return to the hotel, the landlord thus addressed him:
"You asked me if I could give you any more large bills, in exchange
for small ones. I think I can accommodate you this morning. I have a
one hundred dollar bank-note, which, if you are sending money by mail,
will be very convenient."
"Thank you," replied the Agent; "it will be a great accommodation."
The landlord passed the bank-note over the counter. One can imagine
the Agent's secret triumph on discovering, at last, one of the very
bills he was in search of, one that had been lost in a letter passing
that post-office only a week before; and of which he had an accurate
description from the Department.
Having made the purchase, he held the bank-note up to the light.
"I suppose you will warrant this paper to be genuine?" he suggested.
"There is no doubt about it, sir," said the landlord.
"Of course you know from whom you had it?"
"To be sure! I took it of one of my boarders this morning, Captain
Wilkins."
"I have no doubt but the bill is good," said the Agent, putting it in
his pocket. "You are sure you had it of the Captain?"
"O, yes! 'twasn't an hour ago he gave it to me."
"By the way, who is this Captain Wilkins? He's a very
gentlemanly-appearing fellow."
"O, he's a capital fellow!" said the landlord.
"What's his business?"
"He keeps a faro bank."
To a Northern reader, the two clauses of this statement may seem
inconsistent with each other. But allowance must be made for the
freedom of Southern manners and society. To bet at a faro bank is
considered no serious stain upon the honor and respectability of
gentlemen in Southern cities. The keeper of a faro bank may pass, as
we have seen, for a "capital fellow." But the Agent felt pained to
know from what source the landlord had obtained the bill. Already a
dark picture of temptation and crime arose before his eyes. It is a
significant and too often a tragical word--the Faro Bank!
Captain Wilkins had gone to ride. The Agent pretended to transact a
little business, mailed two or three letters, and read the newspapers
until his return. The rattling of a light-wheeled buggy before the
hotel steps announced the expected arrival.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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