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lived there, and all about the English Wilkses, and so on; but I didnā€™t get very far before the doctor started to laugh; and Levi Bell, the lawyer, says: ā€œSit down, my boy; I wouldnā€™t try too hard if I was you. I think you ainā€™t one who has done much lying, it donā€™t seem to come easy; what you want is to exercise it more. You do it pretty rough.ā€

 

I didnā€™t think he was so right, but I was glad to be let off, anyway.

 

The doctor he started to say something, and turns and says: ā€œIf youā€™d been in town at first, Levi Bell -- ā€œ

 

The king broke in and reached out his hand, and says: ā€œWhy, is this my poor dead brotherā€™s old friend that heā€™s wrote so often about?ā€

 

The lawyer and him shook hands, and the lawyer smiled and looked pleased, and they talked right along for a while, and then got to one side and talked low.

 

At last the lawyer speaks up and says: ā€œThatā€™ll fix it. Iā€™ll take it and send it, along with your brotherā€™s, and then theyā€™ll know itā€™s all right.ā€

 

So they got some paper and a pen, and the king he sat down and turned his head to one side, and chewed his tongue, and wrote 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 man and says: ā€œYou and your brother please write a line or two and sign your names.ā€

 

The old man wrote, but nobody couldnā€™t read it. The lawyer looked powerful surprised, and says: ā€œWell, thatā€™s strange - - and pulled a lot of old letters out of his pocket, and looked at them, and then looked at the old manā€™s writing, and then them again; and then says: ā€œThese old letters is from Harvey Wilks; and hereā€™s these twoā€™s writings, and anybody can see they didnā€™t write them.ā€ (The king and the duke looked pretty foolish, I tell you, to see how the lawyer had tricked them into writing.) ā€œAnd hereā€™s this old manā€™s hand writing, and anybody can tell, easy enough, he didnā€™t write them either -- truth is, the scratches he makes canā€™t really be called writing at all. Now, hereā€™s some letters from -- ā€œ

 

The new old man says: ā€œIf you please, let me say something. Nobody can read my hand but my brother there -- so he writes for me. Itā€™s his hand youā€™ve got there, not mine.ā€

 

ā€œWell! ā€œ says the lawyer, ā€œthis is getting more confused as we go. Iā€™ve got some of Williamā€™s letters, too; so if youā€™ll get him to write a line or two we can -- ā€œ

 

ā€œHe canā€™t write with his left hand,ā€ says the old man. ā€œIf he could use his right, you'd see that he wrote his own letters and mine too. Look at both, please -- theyā€™re by the same hand.ā€

 

The lawyer done it, and says: ā€œI believe itā€™s so -- and if it ainā€™t so, theyā€™re more the same than Iā€™d seen before, anyway. Well, well, well! I thought we was right close to fixing this problem, but itā€™s gone to grass, partly. Anyway, one thing is proved -- these other two ainā€™t either of ā€˜em Wilksesā€ -- and he turned his head toward the king and the duke.

 

Well, what do you think? That stupid old man wouldnā€™t give in even then! Said it werenā€™t no fair test. Said his brother William was the worst joker in the world, and hadnā€™t tried to write -- he seen William was going to play one of his jokes the minute he put the pen to paper. He warmed up and went singing right along until he was really starting to believe what he was saying himself; but pretty soon the new man broke in, and says: ā€œIā€™ve thought of something. Is there any here that helped to lay out my br -- helped to lay out the late Peter Wilks for burying?ā€

 

ā€œYes,ā€ says somebody, ā€œMe and Ab Turner done it. Weā€™re both here.ā€

 

Then the old man turns toward the king, and says: ā€œMaybe this man can tell me what was printed in ink on his chest?ā€

 

Blamed if the king didnā€™t have to pull himself up mighty fast, or heā€™d a dropped like the side of a river that the water has cut under, it took him so by surprise. But then it was a thing that was planned to make him drop, to get hit with such a solid one as that without any warning, because how was he going to know what was written on the manā€™s chest? He turned a little white; he couldnā€™t help it. It was mighty quiet in there, with everybody bending a little forward and looking at him. Says I to myself, Now heā€™ll give up -- there ainā€™t no more use. Well, did he? A body canā€™t hardly believe it, but he didnā€™t.

 

I think he thought heā€™d keep the thing up until he tired them people out, so theyā€™d some of them go home, and him and the duke could break loose and get away. Anyway, he sat there, and pretty soon he started to smile, and says: ā€œHmm! Itā€™s a very difficult question, ainā€™t it! Yes, sir, I can tell you whatā€™s written on his chest. Itā€™s just a small, thin, blue arrow -- thatā€™s what it is; and if you donā€™t look closely you canā€™t see it. Now what do you say -- hey?ā€

 

Well, I never seen anything like that old wind bag for clean out-and-out lies.

 

The new old man turns quickly toward Ab Turner and his helper, and his eye lights up like he judged heā€™d got the king this time, and says: ā€œThere -- youā€™ve heard what he said! Was there any such mark on Peter Wilksā€™ chest?ā€

 

Both of them says: ā€œWe didnā€™t see no such mark.ā€

 

ā€œGood!ā€ says the old man. ā€œNow, what you did see on his breast was a small P, and a B and a W, with lines between them,so:P--B--Wā€ ā€“ and he marked them that way on a piece of paper. ā€œCome, ainā€™t that what you saw?ā€

 

Both of them spoke up again, and says: ā€œNo, we didnā€™t. We never seen any marks at all.ā€

 

Well, everybody was angry now, and they sings out: ā€œThe whole lot of ā€˜emā€™s counterfeits! Letā€™s feather ā€˜em! Letā€™s drown ā€˜em!ā€ and everybody was shouting at once.

 

But the lawyer he jumps on the table and shouts, and says: ā€œFriends -- friends! Hear me just a word -- just one word -- if you PLEASE! Thereā€™s one way yet -- letā€™s go and dig up the body and look.ā€

 

That took them.

 

ā€œHooray!ā€ they all shouted, and was starting right off; but the lawyer and the doctor shouted out: ā€œHold on, hold on! Hold all these four men and the boy, and bring them along, too!ā€

 

ā€œWeā€™ll do it!ā€ they all shouted; ā€œand if we donā€™t find them marks weā€™ll hang the whole gang!ā€

 

I was scared, now, I tell you. But there werenā€™t no getting away, you know. They were holding us all, and pushed us right along, straight for the burying ground, 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 hadnā€™t sent Mary Jane out of town; because now if I could give her the wink sheā€™d come out and save me, and blow on our robber friends.

 

Well, they moved along down the river road, just carrying on like wild cats; and to make it seem worse the sky was darking up, and the lightning starting to wink and jump around, and the wind started shaking the leaves. This was the most awful trouble and the most danger I ever was in; and I was lost for a plan; everything was going so different from what I had planned for; instead 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 trouble come, there was nothing in the world between me and death but just them marks on old Peterā€™s chest. If they didnā€™t find them --

 

I couldnā€™t even think about it; and yet, at the same time, I couldnā€™t think about nothing else. It got darker and darker, and it was a beautiful time to break away from the crowd; but that big rough man had me by the wrist -- Hines -- and a body might as well try to break away from Goliath. He pulled me right along, he was in such a hurry, and I had to run to keep up.

 

When they got there they all crowded into the burying ground and washed over it like a wave. And when they got to where Peter was buried they found they had about a hundred times as many shovels as they wanted, but nobody hadnā€™t thought to bring a lantern. But they sailed into digging anyway by the light of the lightning, and sent a man to the nearest house, a half a mile off, to borrow a lantern.

 

So they went digging like anything; and it got awful dark, and the rain started, and the wind moved this way and that, and the lightning come faster and faster, and the thunder boomed; but them people never took no interest in that, they was so full of this business; and one minute you could see everything and every face in that big crowd, and the shovels of dirt sailing up out of the hole, and the next second the dark rubbed it all out, and you couldnā€™t see nothing at all.

 

At last they got out the box and started to take the screws out of the cover, and then such another crowding and shouldering and pushing there was, to get in close and see, as there never was; and in the dark, that way, it was awful. Hines he was hurting my wrist badly pulling so, and I think he wasnā€™t thinking about me at all, he was so interested in the box and the body in it.

 

Then the lightning let go a perfect explosion of white light, and someone sings out: ā€œBy the living lord, hereā€™s the bag of gold on his breast!ā€

 

Hines let out a shout, like everybody else, and dropped my wrist and give a big push to force his way in and get a look, and the way I run out and headed for the road in the dark there ainā€™t nobody can tell.

 

I had the road all to myself, and I was almost flying -- at least, I had it all to myself apart from the solid dark, and the now-and-then lightning, and the sound of the rain, and the push of the wind, and the booms of the thunder; and sure as you are born I did race it along!

 

When I hit the town I see there werenā€™t nobody out in the storm, so I never hunted for no back streets, but ran straight through the middle one; and when I started to get toward our house I looked in that direction. No light there; the house all dark -- which made me feel sorry and sad, I didnā€™t know why. But at last, just as I was sailing by, on comes the light in Mary Janeā€™s window! and my heart filled up enough to almost explode; and the same second the house and all was behind me in the dark, and wasnā€™t ever going to be before me no more in this world. She was the best girl I ever see, and had the most strength.

 

The minute I was far enough above the town to see I could make the island, I started to look sharp for a boat to borrow, and the first time the lightning showed me one that wasnā€™t chained I took it and jumped in. It was a canoe, and it werenā€™t tied with nothing but a rope. The towhead was still a long way off, out there in the middle of the river, but I didnā€™t lose no time; and when I come on the raft at last I was so tired I would a just fell down to blow and breathe again if I could of. But I didnā€™t. As I jumped on I shouted out: ā€œOut with you, Jim, and cut her loose! Glory be to God, weā€™re free of them!ā€

 

 

Jim stepped out, and was a-coming for me with both arms open, he was so happy; but when I saw him in the lightning my heart jumped up in my mouth and I went over into the water backward; for I hadnā€™t remembered that he was a drowned Arab, and it almost scared the lights out of me.

 

But Jim fished me out, and was

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