artly open; and I looked in as I went along, for I wondered what Ham
was about at that late hour. He was sorting the mail, which I had
brought up from Riverport, and I concluded that he intended to lie abed
late in the morning. I paused a moment at the door, and soon became
satisfied that he was doing something more than sorting the mail. He was
not ten feet from me, and I could distinctly observe his operations.

I should not have staid an instant after I found what he was doing if
his movements had not excited my attention. He had lighted the large
hanging lamp over the counter where the mail was sorted; and, as I was
about to pass on to the relief of Bully, I saw him hold a letter up to
the light, as if to ascertain its contents. I could not entirely make
out the direction upon it; but, as he held it up to the lamp, peering in
at the end, I saw that the capital letter commencing the last name was
an L. I concluded that this must be the letter for which Miss Larrabee
had inquired, and which she had declared was to contain forty dollars.

Ham glanced around the store; but, as I was in the darkness of the
entry, and concealed by the door, he did not see me. He was nervous and
shaky in his movements. He held the letter up to the light again, and
having apparently satisfied himself that it contained a valuable
enclosure, he broke it open. I confess that I was filled with horror,
and, of the two, I was probably more frightened than he was. I saw him
take several bank bills from the paper and thrust them into his pocket.
I had never considered Ham capable of an act so wicked as this. I was
shocked and confounded. I did not know what to do. Badly as he had
treated me, I would gladly have saved him from such a gross crime as
that he was committing.

What should I do? What could I do? I was on the point of rushing into
the store, telling him I had seen the flagrant act, and begging him to
undo the deed by restoring the money to the letter, and sealing it
again. At that instant he lighted a match, and set the letter on fire. I
was too late. He took the burning paper in his hand, carried it to the
stove, and threw it in. He waited a moment till it was consumed, and
then returned to the mail counter. The envelope still lay there; he
carried that to the stove, and saw it ignited from the burning letter.

[Illustration: HAM FISHLEY'S CRIME--Page 86.]

Ham's nefarious work appeared to be finished; and, without being able to
deci