"You are really Joseph Bertha?"
"Yes, Monsieur the Sub-Prefect," I answered.
"Well, gentlemen," said he, taking a letter out of his portfolio,
"listen."
He began to read the letter, which stated that, six months before, I
had bet that I could go to Laverne and back quicker than Pinacle; that
we had run the race, and I had won.
It was unhappily too true. The villain Pinacle had always taunted me
with being a cripple, and in my anger I laid the wager. Every one knew
of it. I could not deny it.
While I stood utterly confounded, the first surgeon said:
"That settles the question. Dress yourself." And turning to the
secretary, he cried, "Good for service."