Everything was all right now.The girls wouldn’t say nothing because they wanted to go to England;and the king and the duke would ruther Mary Jane was off working for the auction than around in reach of Doctor Robinson. I felt very good; I judged I had done it pretty neat—I reckoned Tom Sawyer couldn’t a done it no neater himself. Of course he would a throwed more style into it, but I can’t do that very handy, not being brung up to it.
Well, they held the auction in the public square,along towards the end of the afternoon,and it strung along, and strung along,and the old man he was on hand and looking his level pisonest,up there longside of the auctioneer,and chipping in a little Scripture now and then,or a little goody-goody saying of some kind,and the duke he was around goo-gooing for sympathy all he knowed how,and just spreading himself generly.
But by-and-by the thing dragged through,and everything was sold—everything but a little old trifling lot in the graveyard. So they’d got to work _that_ off—I never see such a girafft as the king was for wanting to swallow _everything_. Well, whilst they was at it a steamboat landed, and in about two minutes up comes a crowd a-whooping and yelling and laughing and carrying on, and singing out:
“_Here’s_ your opposition line!here’s your two sets o’ heirs to old Peter Wilks—and you pays your money and you takes your choice!”
CHAPTER XXIX.
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!”