"Well, sir, you'd orter
seen him then. I thought he'd bust. He said something about his
brother and his brother's watch. I didn't wait for him to get
collected. I then proceeded, with a great deal of caution, to take out
of another pocket a long, frayed, yellow envelope. 'This,' said I,
'was given to me by the nigger that night. It had once contained a
large sum of money, he said, but you had taken most of it, leaving him
just fifty dollars. Do you recognize the envelope?'
"I held it out, but beyond his reach. He sat there for three minutes
gazin' at the handwritin' on the thing, his lips moving as if he
didn't know they were doing it. 'My God,' he says, 'it is Arthur's
handwriting. I'd know it among a million.' Then he jumped up and began
to curse. 'Three thousand dollars!' he yelled, forgettin' himself.
'Did that black scoundrel say I had taken it? He lied. He took it
himself. I've never seen this before. I didn't know it existed!'
Suddenly he sees that he was giving himself away, so he flops down and
pants like a horse with the heaves.
"I put the things back in my pocket, and calmly says, 'I reckon you'll
pony up the five thousand, won't you?' Well, sir, what do you think he
does? He pulls himself together and politely asks me to have a julep.
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