"Hold up your hands, all three of you," directed Deputy Coates. Then and there he swore them in formally as special deputy sheriffs in the service of the county. "Dent, go to the third drawer in that cabinet and take out three badges, will you?" asked Mr. Coates. "These badges will be in the best place if we pin them to our flannel shirts, and then button our blouses over them," suggested Prescott, setting the example. "I'll go out ahead of you now," proposed the postmaster. "Arrange to be in the little alley-way back of the post office at half past six in the morning." "Six thirty to the minute," Lieutenant Prescott promised. Once outside, the lieutenant told the bunkies to return to the hotel together. Then he left them. Just on the dot of 6.30 the next morning Lieutenant Prescott and his two soldier boys were at the meeting place. Postmaster Dent was ahead of them, and quickly admitted them through the rear door of the post office building. "Now, we've just time to hurry into readiness," whispered Dent, rubbing his hands. "The office opens sharp at seven!" CHAPTER XIV MEETING BLICK IN EARNEST "Any mail for Sarah J. Campbell?" "I'll see, ma'am." "Be quick, boy. I'm in a dreadful hurry." Noll turned away from the window to consult a frame of boxes that were alphabetically arranged. "Maria A. Bampole, did you say, ma'am?" sounded young Terry's voice, his face just out of sight. "No; I didn't," snapped the woman. "Sarah J. Campbell, blockhead!" "'Scuse me, ma'am," returned Noll politely, though heavily. The impatient woman could hear him slowly sorting over letters. "Nothing for Blockhead," he announced slowly, as though talking caused him pain. The woman threw up her hands in huge disgust. "Sarah J. Campbell!" she insisted snappishly. "Oh, 'scuse me, ma'am. I thought you said Blockhead." "So I did, dunce, but I was calling you that!" "But, you see, ma'am," drawled Noll, exasperatingly, "I ain't looking for any mail." "Then you'd better!" warned the woman angrily. "And look for Sarah J. Campbell. Be lively about it, too." Noll ran through the letters and postcards in Box C with provoking deliberation. Then he announced, while the woman drummed impatiently on the window ledge: "Here's a postal from the Mason City Laundry, stating that your wash, this week, will be delivered only on payment of your account." "Gimme that card," screamed Miss Campbell. "I didn't ask you to read it, booby!" "And here's another, from Medella, dealer in false hair at Denver, stating that your order will be shipped on the second of next month, and----" People waiting in the line behind began to titter, while Miss Campbell's face turned scarlet. "Gimme my mail, stupid!" commanded Miss Campbell irately. "And I'll complain to the postmaster about your impudence." Noll Terry gazed at the woman with an expression of sadly wounded innocence.