Part 28 (1/2)
”Humph! all small affairs. No wonder he hasn't been promoted. The first is that of a young woman who used washed postage stamps. They found four dollars worth of washed stamps in her possession. The next is the arrest of a cigar dealer, who used stamped boxes more than once.
He was a fellow sixty-eight years old and got two years. The last case is a mail-order swindle, a ten-cent puzzle, a small affair, run by a nineteen-year-old boy, and sentence was suspended.”
”Not a very brilliant record,” was Adams's comment. ”It's a wonder he can hold his job.”
”It is a wonder. But he may have political influence, or something else, or, it is barely possible that he may be doing some work that is not on record here. That is all I can tell you.”
”What is his salary?”
”A thousand or twelve hundred a year.”
”Not a very elaborate income. No wonder he would like to run down those counterfeiters. It would be a feather in his cap, eh?”
”Most a.s.suredly. Do you expect to double up with him? Of course, it's none of my business and you needn't answer if you don't care to.”
”I don't know what I'll do yet. This is a complication I want to study first.”
”I see. Well, if we can help you--”
”I'll send word, don't fear. And if I do send word, I want you to act on the jump.”
”Don't worry about that. I know if you send word it means business,”
answered the secret service officer, with a laugh.
An hour later found Adam Adams on a train bound for Bryport. He reached that city in the evening, and from a directory he learned where the secret service man resided. A street car brought him to within two blocks of the dwelling. It was a building of no mean pretentions and on a corner which looked to be valuable. Walking along the side street he saw that two domestics were at work in the kitchen and dining room.
”He certainly lives in style,” mused Adam Adams. ”Wonder if he manages it on twelve hundred a year?”
As it was a warm night the windows were open and by going close to the house he could hear the conversation being carried on by the servants as they moved back and forth between the two rooms.
From their talk, he learned that Mrs. Watkins and her two daughters were at Saratoga, and that it was expected that the husband would join his family there soon.
”And we'll have good times when he's gone, ain't that so, Caddie?” said one of the domestics.
”That we will,” was the answer. ”Better times than now, anyway, when you can't tell when he is coming in and when he is going out. It is a queer way he has with him lately.”
”I guess he is worried over his money.”
”Why, what do you know about that, Caddie Dix?”
”What do I know, Nellie Casey? Tim Corey told me Mrs. Watkins didn't git a cent of the old grandfather's money, although she said she did, and so did the master say so. It all went to the other part of the family.”
”Then where did Mr. Watkins git his money, I'd like to know.”
”Don't ask me. Tim says he is flush enough at the club and other places. The government must pay him more than most folks imagine.”
”Is Tim goin' to the Rosebud's picnic?”
”Yes, and Dan's goin' too, and Dan wants me to bring you,” went on one of the domestics, and then the talk drifted into a channel which was of no further interest to Adam Adams.