第 30 页

fetched in the new couple. First, the doctor says:

"I don't wish to be too hard on these two men, but I think they're

frauds, and they may have complices that we don't know nothing about. If

they have, won't the complices get away with that bag of gold Peter Wilks

left? It ain't unlikely. If these men ain't frauds, they won't object

to sending for that money and letting us keep it till they prove they're

all right--ain't that so?"

Everybody agreed to that. So I judged they had our gang in a pretty

tight place right at the outstart. But the king he only looked

sorrowful, and says:

"Gentlemen, I wish the money was there, for I ain't got no disposition to

throw anything in the way of a fair, open, out-and-out investigation o'

this misable business; but, alas, the money ain't there; you k'n send and

see, if you want to."

"Where is it, then?"

"Well, when my niece give it to me to keep for her I took and hid it

inside o' the straw tick o' my bed, not wishin' to bank it for the few

days we'd be here, and considerin' the bed a safe place, we not bein'

used to niggers, and suppos'n' 'em honest, like servants in England. The

niggers stole it the very next mornin' after I had went down stairs; and

when I sold 'em I hadn't missed the money yit, so they got clean away

with it. My servant here k'n tell you 'bout it, gentlemen."

The doctor and several said "Shucks!" and I see nobody didn't altogether

believe him. One man asked me if I see the niggers steal it. I said no,

but I see them sneaking out of the room and hustling away, and I never

thought nothing, only I reckoned they was afraid they had waked up my

master and was trying to get away before he made trouble with them. That

was all they asked me. Then the doctor whirls on me and says:

"Are YOU English, too?"

I says yes; and him and some others laughed, and said, "Stuff!"

Well, then they sailed in on the general investigation, and there we had

it, up and down, hour in, hour out, and nobody never said a word about

supper, nor ever seemed to think about it--and so they kept it up, and

kept it up; and it WAS the worst mixed-up thing you ever see. They made

the king tell his yarn, and they made the old gentleman tell his'n; and

anybody but a lot of prejudiced chuckleheads would a SEEN that the old

gentleman was spinning truth and t'other one lies. And by and by they

had me up to tell what I knowed. The king he give me a left-handed look

out of the corner of his eye, and so I knowed enough to talk on the right

side. I begun to tell about Sheffield, and how we lived there, and all

about the English Wilkses, and so on; but I didn't get pretty fur till

the doctor begun to laugh; and Levi Bell, the lawyer, says:

"Set down, my boy; I wouldn't strain myself if I was you. I reckon you

ain't used to lying, it don't seem to come handy; what you want is

practice. You do it pretty awkward."

I didn't care nothing for the compliment, but I was glad to be let off,

anyway.

The doctor he started to say something, and turns and says:

"If you'd been in town at first, Levi Bell--" The king broke in and

reached out his hand, and says:

"Why, is this my poor dead brother's old friend that he's wrote so often

about?"

The lawyer and him shook hands, and the lawyer smiled and looked pleased,

and they talked right along awhile, and then got to one side and talked

low; and at last the lawyer speaks up and says:

"That 'll fix it. I'll take the order and send it, along with your

brother's, and then they'll know it's all right."

So they got some paper and a pen, and the king he set down and twisted

his head to one side, and chawed his tongue, and scrawled off something;

and then they give the pen to the duke--and then for the first time the

duke looked sick. But he took the pen and wrote. So then the lawyer

turns to the new old gentleman and says:

"You and your brother please write a line or two and sign your names."

The old gentleman wrote, but nobody couldn't read it. The lawyer looked

powerful astonished, and says:

"Well, it beats ME"--and snaked a lot of old letters out of his pocket,

and examined them, and then examined the old man's writing, and then THEM

again; and then says: "These old letters is from Harvey Wilks; and

here's THESE two handwritings, and anybody can see they didn't write

them" (the king and the duke looked sold and foolish, I tell you, to see

how the lawyer had took them in), "and here's THIS old gentleman's hand

writing, and anybody can tell, easy enough, HE didn't write them--fact

is, the scratches he makes ain't properly WRITING at all. Now, here's

some letters from--"

The new old gentleman says:

"If you please, let me explain. Nobody can read my hand but my brother

there--so he copies for me. It's HIS hand you've got there, not mine."

"WELL!" says the lawyer, "this IS a state of things. I've got some of

William's letters, too; so if you'll get him to write a line or so we can

com--"

"He CAN'T write with his left hand," says the old gentleman. "If he

could use his right hand, you would see that he wrote his own letters and

mine too. Look at both, please--they're by the same hand."

The lawyer done it, and says:

"I believe it's so--and if it ain't so, there's a heap stronger

resemblance than I'd noticed before, anyway. Well, well, well! I

thought we was right on the track of a solution, but it's gone to grass,

partly. But anyway, one thing is proved--THESE two ain't either of 'em

Wilkses"--and he wagged his head towards the king and the duke.

Well, what do you think? That muleheaded old fool wouldn't give in THEN!

Indeed he wouldn't. Said it warn't no fair test. Said his brother

William was the cussedest joker in the world, and hadn't tried to write

--HE see William was going to play one of his jokes the minute he put the

pen to paper. And so he warmed up and went warbling right along till he

was actuly beginning to believe what he was saying HIMSELF; but pretty

soon the new gentleman broke in, and says:

"I've thought of something. Is there anybody here that helped to lay out

my br--helped to lay out the late Peter Wilks for burying?"

"Yes," says somebody, "me and Ab Turner done it. We're both here."

Then the old man turns towards the king, and says:

"Perhaps this gentleman can tell me what was tattooed on his breast?"

Blamed if the king didn't have to brace up mighty quick, or he'd a

squshed down like a bluff bank that the river has cut under, it took him

so sudden; and, mind you, it was a thing that was calculated to make most

ANYBODY sqush to get fetched such a solid one as that without any notice,

because how was HE going to know what was tattooed on the man? He

whitened a little; he couldn't help it; and it was mighty still in there,

and everybody bending a little forwards and gazing at him. Says I to

myself, NOW he'll throw up the sponge--there ain't no more use. Well,

did he? A body can't hardly believe it, but he didn't. I reckon he

thought he'd keep the thing up till he tired them people out, so they'd

thin out, and him and the duke could break loose and get away. Anyway,

he set there, and pretty soon he begun to smile, and says:

"Mf! It's a VERY tough question, AIN'T it! YES, sir, I k'n tell you

what's tattooed on his breast. It's jest a small, thin, blue arrow

--that's what it is; and if you don't look clost, you can't see it. NOW

what do you say--hey?"

Well, I never see anything like that old blister for clean out-and-out

cheek.

The new old gentleman turns brisk towards Ab Turner and his pard, and his

eye lights up like he judged he'd got the king THIS time, and says:

"There--you've heard what he said! Was there any such mark on Peter

Wilks' breast?"

Both of them spoke up and says:

"We didn't see no such mark."

"Good!" says the old gentleman. "Now, what you DID see on his breast was

a small dim P, and a B (which is an initial he dropped when he was

young), and a W, with dashes between them, so: P--B--W"--and he marked

them that way on a piece of paper. "Come, ain't that what you saw?"

Both of them spoke up again, and says:

"No, we DIDN'T. We never seen any marks at all."

Well, everybody WAS in a state of mind now, and they sings out:

"The whole BILIN' of 'm 's frauds! Le's duck 'em! le's drown 'em! le's

ride 'em on a rail!" and everybody was whooping at once, and there was a

rattling powwow. But the lawyer he jumps on the table and yells, and

says:

"Gentlemen--gentleMEN! Hear me just a word--just a SINGLE word--if you

PLEASE! There's one way yet--let's go and dig up the corpse and look."

That took them.

"Hooray!" they all shouted, and was starting right off; but the lawyer

and the doctor sung out:

"Hold on, hold on! Collar all these four men and the boy, and fetch THEM

along, too!"

"We'll do it!" they all shouted; "and if we don't find them marks we'll

lynch the whole gang!"

I WAS scared, now, I tell you. But there warn't no getting away, you

know. They gripped us all, and marched us right along, straight for the

graveyard, which was a mile and a half down the river, and the whole town

at our heels, for we made noise enough, and it was only nine in the

evening.

As we went by our house I wished I hadn't sent Mary Jane out of town;

because now if I could tip her the wink she'd light out and save me, and

blow on our dead-beats.

Well, we swarmed along down the river road, just carrying on like

wildcats; and to make it more scary the sky was darking up, and the

lightning beginning to wink and flitter, and the wind to shiver amongst

the leaves. This was the most awful trouble and most dangersome I ever

was in; and I was kinder stunned; everything was going so different from

what I had allowed for; stead of being fixed so I could take my own time

if I wanted to, and see all the fun, and have Mary Jane at my back to

save me and set me free when the close-fit come, here was nothing in the

world betwixt me and sudden death but just them tattoo-marks. If they

didn't find them--

I couldn't bear to think about it; and yet, somehow, I couldn't think

about nothing else. It got darker and darker, and it was a beautiful

time to give the crowd the slip; but that big husky had me by the wrist

--Hines--and a body might as well try to give Goliar the slip. He dragged

me right along, he was so excited, and I had to run to keep up.

When they got there they swarmed into the graveyard and washed over it

like an overflow. And when they got to the grave they found they had

about a hundred times as many shovels as they wanted, but nobody hadn't

thought to fetch a lantern. But they sailed into digging anyway by the

flicker of the lightning, and sent a man to the nearest house, a half a

mile off, to borrow one.

So they dug and dug like everything; and it got awful dark, and the rain

started, and the wind swished and swushed along, and the lightning come

brisker and brisker, and the thunder boomed; but them people never took

no notice of it, they was so full of this business; and one minute you

could see everything and every face in that big crowd, and the shovelfuls

of dirt sailing up out of the grave, and the next second the dark wiped

it all out, and you couldn't see nothing at all.

At last they got out the coffin and begun to unscrew the lid, and then

such another crowding and shouldering and shoving as there was, to

scrouge in and get a sight, you never see; and in the dark, that way, it

was awful. Hines he hurt my wrist dreadful pulling and tugging so, and I

reckon he clean forgot I was in the world, he was so excited and panting.

All of a sudden the lightning let go a perfect sluice of white glare, and

somebody sings out:

"By the living jingo, here's the bag of gold on his breast!"

Hines let out a whoop, like everybody else, and dropped my wrist and give

a big surge to bust his way in and get a look, and the way I lit out and

shinned for the road in the dark there ain't nobody can tell.

I had the road all to myself, and I fairly flew--leastways, I had it all

to myself except the solid dark, and the now-and-then glares, and the

buzzing of the rain, and the thrashing of the wind, and the splitting of

the thunder; and sure as you are born I did clip it along!

When I struck the town I see there warn't nobody out in the storm, so I

never hunted for no back streets, but humped it straight through the main

one; and when I begun to get towards our house I aimed my eye and set it.

No light there; the house all dark--which made me feel sorry and

disappointed, I didn't know why. But at last, just as I was sailing by,

FLASH comes the light in Mary Jane's window! and my heart swelled up

sudden, like to bust; and the same second the house and all was behind me

in the dark, and wasn't ever going to be before me no more in this world.

She WAS the best girl I ever see, and had the most sand.

The minute I was far enough above the town to see I could make the

towhead, I begun to look sharp for a boat to borrow, and the first time

the lightning showed me one that wasn't chained I snatched it and shoved.

It was a canoe, and warn't fastened with nothing but a rope. The towhead