The words came from
him hoarsely and gratingly. Fortunately for him, Munro, whose cool
villany nothing might well discompose, perceiving the necessity of
speech for him who had none, interfered with the following inquiry,
uttered in something like a tone of surprise.
"And what say you to this accusation, Guy Rivers? Can you not find an
answer?"
"It is false--false as hell! and you know it, Munro, as well as myself.
I never saw the boy until at your house."
"That I know, and why you should take so long to say it I can't
understand. It appears to me, young gentleman," said Munro, with most
cool and delightful effrontery, "that I can set all these matters right.
I can show you to be under a mistake; for I happen to know that, at the
very time of which you speak, we were both of us up in the Chestatee
fork, looking for a runaway slave--you know the fellow, boys--Black
Tom--who has been _out_ for six months and more, and of whom I got
information a few weeks ago. Well, as everybody knows, the Chestatee
fork is at least twenty miles from the Catcheta pass; and if we were in
one place, we could not, I am disposed to think, very well be in
another.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362