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Updated: June 17, 2025
I had been taking about ten messages and the conviction was growing on me momentarily that the sending was very familiar and that I must have known the sender. Where had I heard that peculiar jerky sending before? It was as plain as print, but there was an individuality about it that belonged only to one man.
He leaped to his feet, dashed headlong to the telegraph office downstairs, and ten minutes later this message was flying to Grover & Dickhut: Get some one else for this job. I'm done with it. Coming home. "I'm coming on the first train, too," muttered the sender, as he hurried up-stairs. "I can pack my trunk for the night stage. I'd like to say good- by to her, but I can't I couldn't stand it.
The sender of this great news also stated that Ben Greenway was with Major Bonnet, working as his assistant and here Dame Charter sat open-mouthed and her heart nearly stopped beating young Dickory Charter had also been in the port and had gone away, but was expected ere long to return. Kate stood on her tip-toes and waved the letter over her head. "To Belize, my dear uncle, to Belize!
Bob's pencil fairly flew over the paper, and for five minutes there was no sound in the room save the strident buzz of the sender and the whisper of Bob's pencil as it moved rapidly over the paper. Then, "Time," called Herb, and Bob threw down the pencil. "Whew!" he exclaimed, reaching for a handkerchief. "That's pretty hot work, if any one should ask you.
Who owns letters whilst they are in the post? In Great Britain the ownership of a letter whilst it is in the post lies in the Queen, as represented by her Postmaster-General and her Secretary of State. "Neither the sender nor the person to whom it is sent can claim to interfere with a letter whilst it is in the Post Office. Only the warrant of a Secretary of State can stay its delivery."
Thanks to thee, thou merciful sender of ravens, for this thy bread in the wilderness! And how is my dear child, Hermann? HERMANN. Hush! hark! A noise like snoring! Don't you hear something? VOICE. What? Do you hear anything? HERMANN. 'Tis the whistling of the wind through the crannies of the tower a serenading which makes one's teeth chatter, and one's nails turn blue. Hark! tis there again.
"We will select first the shape and fashion of this envelope you saw. These matters require finesse." He disappeared, returning shortly with a wooden box, filled to the top with old envelopes. Each had been neatly opened and its contents extracted. And on each was neatly penned in a corner the name of the sender. Herman watched while the concierge dug through it. "Here it is," he said at last.
"Oh, you're the gentleman who came to our Piccadilly office," he said to Winter. "Yes." "Well, sir, I haven't very much to tell you, but it was I who took the letter to Fortescue Square. I saw the sender, a foreign-looking gentleman, he was, with funny eyes, and I think I spotted him again this afternoon. He was coming out of a house in Charlotte Street." "Are you sure?" demanded Winter, quickly.
What wonder the letter needed neither salutation nor signature to identify its sender? That Stuart had penned the note and contrived to find some one he could trust to mail it was obvious. And yet Christopher, fingering it, could not but speculate as to how it had struggled to freedom. Through what strange hands had it passed, what mazes of strategy and concealment?
No British staff officer has ever acknowledged himself the sender of it, and it has been suggested that it was sent by a Boer sympathizer who was better informed of Colvile's movements than the Intelligence Staff.
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