They was fetching
a very nice-looking old gentleman
along, and a nice-looking younger
one, with his right arm in a sling.
And, my souls, how the people yelled
and laughed, and kept it up. But I
didn't see no joke about it, and I
judged it would strain the duke and
the king some to see any. I reckoned
they'd turn pale. But no, nary a
pale did they turn. The duke
he never let on he suspicioned what
was up, but just went a goo-gooing
around, happy and satisfied, like a
jug that's googling out buttermilk;
and as for the king, he just gazed
and gazed down sorrowful on them
new-comers like it give him the
stomach-ache in his very heart to
think there could be such frauds and
rascals in the world. Oh, he done it
admirable. Lots of the principal
people gethered around the king, to
let him see they was on his side.
That old gentleman that had just
come looked all puzzled to death.
Pretty soon he begun to speak, and I
see straight off he pronounced
like an Englishman -- not the
king's way, though the king's was
pretty good for an imitation. I
can't give the old gent's words, nor
I can't imitate him; but he turned
around to the crowd, and says, about
like this:
"This is a
surprise to me which I wasn't
looking for; and I'll acknowledge,
candid and frank, I ain't very well
fixed to meet it and answer it; for
my brother and me has had
misfortunes; he's broke his arm, and
our baggage got put off at a town
above here last night in the night
by a mistake. I am Peter Wilks'
brother Harvey, and this is his
brother William, which can't hear
nor speak -- and can't even make
signs to amount to much, now't he's
only got one hand to work them with.
We are who we say we are; and in a
day or two, when I get the baggage,
I can prove it. But up till then I
won't say nothing more, but go to
the hotel and wait."
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
sharp-looking gentleman, with a
carpet-bag of the old-fashioned 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's
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
him-self; 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?"
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
grave-yard 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 was
a rattling big distance off, away
out there in the middle of the
river, but I didn't lose no time;
and when I struck the raft at last I
was so fagged I would a just laid
down to blow and gasp if I could
afforded it. But I didn't. As I
sprung aboard I sung out:
"Out with you,
Jim, and set her loose! Glory be to
goodness, we're shut of them!"
Jim lit out, and
was a-coming for me with both arms
spread, he was so full of joy; but
when I glimpsed him in the lightning
my heart shot up in my mouth and I
went overboard backwards; for I
forgot he was old King Lear and a
drownded A-rab all in one, and it
most scared the livers and lights
out of me. But Jim fished me out,
and was going to hug me and bless
me, and so on, he was so glad I was
back and we was shut of the king and
the duke, but I says:
"Not now; have it
for breakfast, have it for
breakfast! Cut loose and let her
slide!"
So in two seconds
away we went a-sliding down the
river, and it did seem so
good to be free again and all by
ourselves on the big river, and
nobody to bother us. I had to skip
around a bit, and jump up and crack
my heels a few times -- I couldn't
help it; but about the third crack I
noticed a sound that I knowed mighty
well, and held my breath and
listened and waited; and sure
enough, when the next flash busted
out over the water, here they come!
-- and just a-laying to their oars
and making their skiff hum! It was
the king and the duke.
So I wilted right
down on to the planks then, and give
up; and it was all I could do to
keep from crying. |