hy residents of the park, and
he quickly found new energy when the opportunity to display his
knowledge was offered.

"That man Collins is a no good fellow," he confided glibly. "Just a
bum--that's all he is. Stays out all night and sleeps all morning. His
wife is a fine woman and I don't see how she stood for him all this
time. Six weeks ago everybody around here knew that they had separated.
She went to her brother's house--Lester Ward. But last night they seemed
to be reconciled again. I saw Ward and Collins and Mrs. Collins at the
station together and I heard them say they were going to the opera. That
was the first time I'd seen Collins and his wife together since they
separated. And this morning the postman told me that Mrs. Collins had
spent the night in her own house--that she and her husband evidently had
decided to live together again."

The postmaster paused reflectively, as if trying to read the meaning
behind this unexpected reunion of the Collinses.

"Did you hear what brought about the break six weeks ago?" asked Britz.

"No, we had a lot of excitement around here just then," said the
postmaster, his lips curling into a reminiscent smile. "That was the day
of the robbery--or the attempted robbery." Aware that his visitors had
begun to display increased interest, he proceeded with more
deliberation, as if trying to heighten their curiosity. "The night
before the Collinses separated, or about two o'clock that morning I
should say, a fellow tried to break into the post office. Luckily there
was a meeting of the lodge that night and a sociable after it. On the
way home, Hiram Barker and Syd Johnson passed the post office just as
the robber was forcing the door. They landed on him and took him to the
lock-up. I notified the post office people down in New York and he was
taken there for trial."

"Well, what happened?" Britz asked.

"The newspapers didn't seem to take much notice of the case," replied
the postmaster regretfully. "A paragraph or two was all they gave it. A
week ago the fellow pleaded guilty and was sentenced to two years and
six months in the Atlanta prison."

"What was his name?" inquired Britz.

"He gave it as John Travis."

"Rather an unusual name for a post office robber," commented Greig.

"He was a peculiar fellow, all right," declared the postmaster.
"Wouldn't say a word to anybody. Just took his medicine without a
whimper."

For a half hour the two detectives were entertaine