So him and the new dummy started off; and
the king he laughs, and blethers out:
"Broke his arm -- VERY likely, AIN'T
it? -- and very convenient, too, for a fraud that's got to make signs, and
ain't learnt how. Lost their baggage! That's MIGHTY good! -- and mighty ingenious
-- under the CIRCUMSTANCES!
So he laughed again; and so did everybody
else, except three or four, or maybe half a dozen. One of these was that
doctor; another one was a sharplooking gentleman, with a carpet-bag of the
oldfashioned kind made out of carpet-stuff, that had just come off of the
steamboat and was talking to him in a low voice, and glancing towards the king
now and then and nodding their heads -- it was Levi Bell, the lawyer that was
gone up to Louisville; and another one was a big rough husky that come along
and listened to all the old gentleman said, and was listening to the king now.
And when the king got done this husky up and says:
"Say, looky here; if you are Harvey
Wilks, when'd you come to this town?"
"The day before the funeral,
friend," says the king.
"But what time o' day?"
"In the evenin' -- 'bout an hour er
two before sundown."
"HOW'D you come?"
"I come down on the Susan Powell from
Cincinnati."
"Well, then, how'd you come to be up
at the Pint in the MORNIN' -- in a canoe?"
"I warn't up at the Pint in the
mornin'."
"It's a lie."
Several of them jumped for him and begged
him not to talk that way to an old man and a preacher.
"Preacher be hanged, he's a fraud and
a liar. He was up at the Pint that mornin'. I live up there, don't I? Well, I
was up there, and he was up there. I see him there. He come in a canoe, along
with Tim Collins and a boy."
The doctor he up and says:
"Would you know the boy again if you
was to see him, Hines?"
"I reckon I would, but I don't know. Why,
yonder he is, now. I know him perfectly easy."
It was me he pointed at. The doctor says:
"Neighbors, I don't know whether the
new couple is frauds or not; but if THESE two ain't frauds, I am an idiot,
that's all. I think it's our duty to see that they don't get away from here
till we've looked into this thing. Come along, Hines; come along, the rest of
you. We'll take these fellows to the tavern and affront them with t'other
couple, and I reckon we'll find out SOMETHING before we get through."
It was nuts for the crowd, though maybe not
for the king's friends; so we all started. It was about sundown. The doctor he
led me along by the hand, and was plenty kind enough, but he never let go my
hand.
We all got in a big room in the hotel, and
lit up some candles, and 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 slution, 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:
"Peraps this gentleman can tell me
what was tattooed on his breast?"
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