"You've got a pooty long mem'ry, an' it's as good as it is long."
"As to that, I never saw the letter until yesterday. The man who
brought the horse showed me the letter; otherwise I shouldn't have
purchased."
The claimant and his companions exchanged looks of astonishment, and
the deputy drawled:--
"How'd he git it, Jim?"
"It beats me," was the reply. "Onless he went through the house like he
did the barn. That letter was in the Bible, where I keep some papers
o' one kind an' another, cal'latin' that's as safe a place as any, not
gettin' much rummagin'. He must 'a' knowed I had it. Oh, he's a slick
un, Bill is, when he gits dead broke an' wants to go on a spree. You
see, Mr. Somerton, the way of it was this: the wife was off visitin',
an' I was ploughin' corn, an' took some snack with me, an' some stuff
for the hosses, so's to have a longer rest at noon-time, not havin' to
go back all the way to the house. The colt was in the barn, so I didn't
miss him till I got home, long about dusk. Bill must 'a' knowed, some
way, my wife wa'n't home, an' I could see by the lot o' hay in the
colt's rack that he'd been took out 'fore the middle o' the day. I was
so knocked by missin' him that I've been on the track ever sence, an'
didn't think to look to see ef anythin' was gone from the house, but
the cuss must 'a' prowled 'roun' consid'able ef he got that letter.
Didn't bring in my rifle an' shotgun to sell, did he, nor flat-irons,
nor cook-stove?"
"No, although he did sell me a saddle and bridle. I hope you'll succeed
in catching the scamp."
"Oh, I ain't got no use for him. The furder away he gits, the better
satisfied I'll be. We ain't never had no other thief 'mong our
relations. I reckon it's you that ought to want him. What I want is my
colt, an' I'm goin' to have him--peaceful, ef I kin, or by law, ef I
must. He's thar--in your barn; I seen him through the door; so did my
frien's here, so there's no good beatin' about the bush an'--"
"Stop!" said Philip. "There's no sense in insinuating that I would
knowingly retain stolen property--unless you wish to have your tongue
knocked down your throat."
"That's fair talk, Jim, an' I don't blame him for givin' it to you,"
suggested the deputy. "Now you chaw yerself for a while, an' let me
say somethin'. It don't stan' to reason that any business man is goin'
to try to keep a stolen hoss. On 'tother han', he'd be a fool to give
up on the word o' three men he never seen till just now. You, Jim,
ain't such a fool as to want to air the family skunk so fur from home,
an' Mr. Somerton here ain't likely to be over'n above anxious to have
a fuss that'll let ev'rybody in town know that he was took in by an
amatoor hoss-thief. Now, Jim, jest sa'nter out an' get some square man,
an' not a storekeeper that knows ye, to come in an' speak for ye, as
if ye wanted to buy some goods on credit. Thet'll prove who ye be, an'
like enough he'll know me, too, 'specially if it's--"
"Why not Doctor Taggess?" Philip suggested.
"Good idee," the officer replied, "for he knows both of us."
"An' he knows the colt, too," said the claimant.
"Better and better," Philip declared, for anything would have been
preferable, at Claybanks or any other Western town, to being known as
a merchant to whom a thief could sell anything.
Fortunately the Doctor was at home; he came to the store, identified
the claimant, vouched for his honesty and truthfulness, and then
identified the colt as the claimant's property. Philip told the entire
story to the Doctor, who said there was nothing to do but surrender the
horse--or repurchase him.
"How much do you want for him, Mr. Marney?"
"Ye ain't said what ye give a'ready."
"No; that's a different matter. What is your price?"
"Cash, note, or trade?"
"Whichever you like, if the figures are right."
"Well, seein' you've been put to expense a'ready, an' I don't need
money for a couple o' months yet, an' you'll most likely give more on
time than in cash, I'd rather take your sixty-day note for a hundred
back home with me than take the colt back. No other man could have him
so cheap."
"You shall have it--on condition, written and signed, that neither of
you three shall tell the story of the thief's sale. No one else can
tell it."
"You'll stand by me, boys?" said the claimant, appealingly.
"Sure!"
"Then I'll take the note, Mr. Somerton, an' you've done the square
thing. But say, I'll throw off five dollar ef ye'll tell me what ye
paid fer him."
"No," said Philip, beginning to draw a bill of sale to include the
condition already specified.
"I'll make it ten."
"No."
"Ah, say! I cayn't sleep peaceful without knowin', but this is rubbin'
it in. Fifteen!"
"Sign this, please," said Philip, showing the bill of sale. Then he
passed over his own note for eighty-five dollars, and said:--
"I paid seventy-five dollars, cash."
"Well," sighed Marney, "that's a comfort--for besides knowin' how much
'twas, it shows what I wanted to b'lieve, that Bill was as much fool as
scoundrel, else he'd 'a' ast more. Good-by, Mr. Somerton an' Doc."
The trio departed. The Doctor remained to condole with the victim,
who could not help telling of his real-estate trade. The Doctor
laughed,--but not too long,--then he said:--
"There ought to be finer grainings and markings, and, therefore,
more money, in walnut roots than in the average of trees. I've been
intending to experiment in that direction. As to that colt, let me
drive him for you a few days; he may have the making of both prices in
him."
When the Doctor departed, Philip got out his own horse and buggy, and
insisted that his wife should drive, but Grace was reluctant to go.
Something seemed to be troubling her. Philip asked what it was. "I wish
Caleb were back," she said.
"_Et tu, Brute?_ Now is my humiliation complete; but as Caleb is where
he is, let us make the best of it." So saying, he indited the following
telegram to Caleb, for Grace to send from the railway station, three
miles distant:--
"Look up a buyer for big walnut stumps.
"PHILIP."