If I could catch the clerk who takes them to the post, and contrive to read the directions, I should save money.

But how manage this?
Well, I must find out some way or other." And, accordingly, Veitel posted himself at the door, and soon saw a young man rush out with a packet of letters in his hand.

He followed him, and, turning sharply round a corner, contrived to meet him.

Touching his hat, "You are from Councilor Horn's office ?" "Yes," said the clerk, in a hurry to get on.
"I am from the country, and have been waiting for three days for an important letter from the councilor; perhaps you may have one for me." "What is your name ?" said the clerk, looking at him mistrustfully.
"Bernhard Madgeburg, of Ostrau," said Veitel; "but the letter may be addressed to my uncle." "There is no letter for you," replied the clerk, hurriedly glancing at the directions.
Do what he would, Veitel's eyes could not follow this rapid shuffling, so he seized the packet, and while the enraged official, catching hold of him, exclaimed, "What are you about, man! how dare you ?" he devoured the directions, gave back the letters, and touching his hat, coolly said, "Nothing for me; do not lose the post; I am going to the councilor," turned on his heel and made his escape.
Spite of this bold stroke, he could only remember two or three of the addresses.

"Perhaps I have made my money," thought he; "and if not, there's no time lost." So he went back, and, creeping to the office door, stood and listened.