HUNT MISSING MAILBAGS.
Carrier's Rig Disappears While His
Back Is Turned in Dark.
Raffles, who was reported dead some years by an English author named Hornung, reappeared in a rather clever role at 11 o'clock last night at Twenty-third street and Woodland avenue. The victim this time was the United States directly and Samuel E. Robinson, mail collector No. 59, indirectly, if a certain horse and wagon does not turn up tied to a water plug somewhere, as is confidently expected by the police.
Robinson had driven considerably past a mail box at the Twenty-third street corner. He did not like the idea of turning his wagon around to go back when it was only a few rods and his limbs were aching for the exercise, so he tied his faithful animal to a pole and did the trick on foot.
Coming back in a few minutes he found the wagon and horse had disappeared, as two bags of first class mail matter, one package of second class and one parcel which might have contained a sable overcoat went with the rig. The robbery was deemed of enough importance to stir up things at the postoffice last night.
Several government detectives and numerous police officers were detailed to hunt for the missing bags.
At an early hour this morning no trace of the resurrected Raffles and his booty had been discovered.
