The moment when full realization of how their old friend had been foully murdered reached their minds, Allen had all he could do to keep them from dashing out and trying to exact a summary revenge. He pointed out that a hasty move would spoil everything and, little by little, calmed the two older men. A few minutes later, the two walked out and headed toward the post office. Arriving there, they told the postmaster everything. They got an envelope and addressed it to Squint Lane. The mail came in on the stage at seven that night, and the postmaster promised to show the letter to all who came for their mail. "Bill, yuh an' me an' the rest of the folks in this town is plumb blind," Doc said sadly. "We sure is, but Jim Allen ain't. Do yuh know, Doc, I bet there's a dozen men in this town what would give an arm to get a shot at his back, an' he goes roun' grinning like a schoolboy," Bill remarked. They stopped and picked up Allen at Doc's house and continued on to Mrs. Hart's little cottage. She was a short, motherly looking woman with bright-blue eyes and graying sandy hair. "Lands sake, what's the matter with the boy?" she asked. "I got a toothache," Allen replied. At that she bustled about him like a hen with a lone chick. Allen played the part of the suffering boy until he caught sight of two large, brown pies on the kitchen table, when he instantly lost all interest in everything but those works of art. "Pies! Well, I'm jiggered if it ain't pies!" He added greedily: "Yuh aimin' to give us a piece of that?" "After yuh eat, yes," Mrs. Hart replied with a smile. "I hate to waste space," Allen said regretfully. The two other men chuckled, and the woman shook her head. "Yuh're just like my boy--he was always crazy for sweets." Her words brought bitter memories to her, and her eyes clouded. Allen pecked at his food, and his unabashed greediness, as he cast longing glances at the pies, made the woman momentarily forget her grief at being separated from her son. At last, she could no longer stand his wistful, greedy eyes, and arose and cut him a big piece of pie. He gobbled it down before she could regain her seat. With a laugh, she cut him a second piece. As she handed it to him, there came a knock on the door. The others started, but Allen continued to eat his pie. Mrs. Hart opened the door, and the postmaster entered at a run, bubbling with excitement. "It sure worked. 'Lefty' Simms takes that letter an' sticks it into another envelope an' addresses it. I fishes it out. Shucks, I suppose I robbed the mails, but here she is," he cried, as he held out the letter triumphantly. Bill McAllister grabbed the letter, glanced at it, and then handed it to Allen, who read the address and grinned gleefully. "Shucks! He's way down at Brushtown, along the border," McAllister said in disappointment. "But Brushtown ain't far from Cannondale, an' I got----"