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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"The Story of a Mine"

As an alleged friend of his, I redeemed the trunk by
paying the amount of his bill, and secured the more valuable papers."
Gashwiler, whose face had grown apoplectically suffused as Wiles went
on, at last gasped: "But you got the trunk, and have the papers?"
"Unfortunately, no; and that's why it's bad."
"But, good God! what have you done with them?"
"I've lost them somewhere on the Overland Road."
Mr. Gashwiler sat for a few moments speechless, vacillating between a
purple rage and a pallid fear. Then he said hoarsely:
"They are all blank forgeries,--every one of them."
"Oh, no!" said Wiles, smiling blandly on his dexter side, and enjoying
the whole scene malevolently with his sinister eye. "YOUR papers are all
genuine, and I won't say are not all right, but unfortunately I had in
the same bag some memoranda of my own for the use of my client, that,
you understand, might be put to some bad use if found by a clever man."
The two rascals looked at each other. There is on the whole really very
little "honor among thieves,"--at least great ones,--and the inferior
rascal succumbed at the reflection of what HE might do if he were in the
other rascal's place.


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