"
"Very well, then; this is some kind of a trunk--and an almighty rare
kind, too."
"Yes, I believe it is."
"Well, then, why shouldn't a man want to steal it if he got a chance?"
"Indeed I don't know.--Why should he?"
"Washington, I never heard anybody talk like you. Suppose you were a
thief, and that trunk was lying around and nobody watching--wouldn't you
steal it? Come, now, answer fair--wouldn't you steal it?
"Well, now, since you corner me, I would take it,--but I wouldn't
consider it stealing.
"You wouldn't! Well, that beats me. Now what would you call stealing?"
"Why, taking property is stealing."
"Property! Now what a way to talk that is: What do you suppose that
trunk is worth?"
"Is it in good repair?"
"Perfect. Hair rubbed off a little, but the main structure is perfectly
sound."
"Does it leak anywhere?"
"Leak? Do you want to carry water in it? What do you mean by does it
leak?"
"Why--a--do the clothes fall out of it when it is--when it is
stationary?"
"Confound it, Washington, you are trying to make fun of me. I don't know
what has got into you to-day; you act mighty curious. What is the matter
with you?"
"Well, I'll tell you, old friend. I am almost happy. I am, indeed.
It wasn't Clay's telegram that hurried me up so and got me ready to start
with you. It was a letter from Louise.
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