"We may as well take a look at it," said he.
Mrs. Stone and Virginia and I all stood by the table as he unsnapped the
catch and opened the bag. It was full almost to the top.
"That ain't the way I packed that money!" said the judge.
His hands trembled as he pulled the contents out. It was full of the
bags and wrappers in which the money had been packed, according to the
judge's tell; but there was no money in the wrappers, and the bags were
full, not of coins, but of common salt. That was what made it so heavy;
and that was what always made it such a mystery: for all the salt used
in Monterey County then was common barrel salt. It was the same kind,
whether it was got from the barrel from which the farmer salted his
cattle, or from the supply in the kitchen of the dweller in the town.
There was no clue in it. It was just salt! We all cried out in surprise,
not understanding that we were looking at the thing which was to be
fought over until either Judge Stone or Governor Wade was destroyed.
"I am ruined!" Judge Stone fell back into a chair groaning. Then he
jumped to his feet. "They've taken it out while we were at the party!"
he shouted. "The damned, canting, sniveling old thief! No wonder he's
got money! He probably stole it where he came from! Jake, we've got to
go back and make him give this money back--come on!"
"Make who give it back?" I asked.
"Who?" said he. "Why old DeWitt Clinton Wade, the old thief! Who else
had the key to the office or knew how to open that safe? Come on, Jake,
and bring your pistol!"
I handed him the pistol.
Pages:
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310