to be made, and that he had been instructed to
take from the postmaster his stock of blank
orders and notices, and leave him no more than
would suffice until the 16th of May, when the
alteration would take effect. He thus obtained
from tbe postmaster one complete book, containing
two hundred money orders and advices, and
one hundred orders and advices from another
book. The complete book, he said, would be at
once forwarded by him to London, but it would
be necessary that the postmaster should affix the
dated stamp of his office to those orders and
advices, with a view to cancel them, and to mark
the date on which they were removed from
Higher Brickey. The postmaster did so
accordingly.

Having thus obtained the orders and advices,
tbh gentleman from London informed the
postmaster that he was going on to pursue his
inquiries at a neighbouring office, and that he
should return in the evening with the test-letter,
which he should himself place in the mail-bag,
and that, until his arrival, no other letters were
to be placed in that bag. I found out he
never went to any other office, but drove off to
a tavern called the Castle of Comfort, a few miles
off, in a quiet out-of-the-way spot, where he
occupied himself in filling up the orders and
advices. He came back to Higher Brickey at
the appointed time to see the mail made up,
brought his test letter with him, and made the
postmaster keep his door shut, and serve any of
the public that applied through a little sliding
panel, such as you have often seen in country
offices. He had tremendous luck, too, this
gentleman from London, for the poor postmaster
was constantly called away to serve the public
with stamps and to answer inquiries, and on one
occasion had to rush out and seize the pretended
inspector's horse, which was frightened at the
passing of a volunteer band. During these
temporary absences of the postmaster, the
inspector no doubt contrived to slip the advices
into the bag, and possibly to stamp each lot on
the back. He then saw the mail off, and on
bidding the postmaster farewell, announced his
intention of keeping a sharp eye on the mail-
cart driver in front of him. On reaching
Waterbridge, he was joined by the tall fair man
who had been waiting about at the different inns
all day, and they both started for London
together.

It was of course plain enough that the dark
man was the prime mover in the affair, that he
did all the work that required clever handling,
and that the fair man was a mere common thief
—he had " let out" a little when the drink was
in him—but that the dark man was of a much
higher order than a mere " magsman." So the
first thing to do was to find out who the dark
man was. There was a little humpy ostler at
the White Hart, a cunning little chap, who had
taken a great deal of notice of this dark man.
It was from him I learned that the stranger had
asked after Anne Love, and mentioned that she
had lived as servant with his father; and it was
through him that I was brought face to face
with Anne Love, then married and doing well.
She had only been in three situations before she
got married, she said, and only in one where
there had been sons in the family. Where was
that? That was at Morris's. (I felt I was hot
on the scent then, for my dark friend had told
one of the women that he was " Harry Morris.")
How many sons were there at Morris's? Two;
one of them went to Australia, and the other
was put in prison for robbing the Post-office.
For robbing the Post-office! The man, without
a doubt—out of prison, and trying his old
game again! I had to get back to London as
quickly as possible; but, before I left
Waterbridge, I gathered certain particulars of his
history from some people who corresponded with
Morris's parents, who had fallen into poverty
and left Waterbridge for London; and I identified
my dark friend with Harry Morris, who
was a clerk in the Waterbridge post-office, but
was dismissed for irregular and dissolute
conduct in the year 1849. In '51 he contrived to
steal the Waterbridge mail-bag from the railway
platform, which projected about three feet over
the plane of the railway, by hiding under the
platform, and hooking off the bags when the
mail messenger was looking another way.
Morris was a green hand then, for he tried to
pass off some notes, which proved part of the
plunder, himself, and he was given into custody
at Bristol, tried at Taunton in the spring of '52,
and sentenced to ten years' penal. He got his
ticket of leave in '56, but was trapped again for
uttering base coin, and had nine months for the
new offence, and to work out the remainder of
his original sentence. During his second term
of imprisonment he sustained some injury, and
lost the sight of one of his eyes. If I had any
doubt of his identity, this settled it, as the
daughter of the sub-postmaster at Higher
Brickey had told me the dark man had a marked
peculiarity in his right eye.

I came back to town with all this information,
and it was decided that the first thing to be
done was to watch the house in which Morris's
parents lived. That was a job for the police,
and they were communicated with; and as it
happened that Morris's parents were desirous of
letting an unfurnished room in their house, the
police were told to find a trustworthy woman
to take it and furnish it, to be very friendly with
the old people, and to be always ready with an
open bottle of gin, if either of them should step
up-stairs for a chat. The plan answered well.
The trustworthy woman was as sharp as a
needle; old Mrs. Morris "Was as reticent as a
sieve. The gin-and-water was always on the
table, and within a very few days we ascertained
that Morris had written to his mother, enclosing
her some postage Mumps, giving her a fictitious
account of his proceedings, and asking her to
address her reply to "J. Henry, Post-office,
Edgeware-road." As ill-luck would have it,
there are two post-offices in the Edgeware-road,
and though the detectives were told to remain
one at one office, the other at the other, after a
day or two they went jointly to the office at