Multimedia Mania/abacus-multimedia-mania.iso/dp/0147/01473.txt

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$Unique_ID{bob01473}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{Pudd'nhead Wilson
Chapter XV}
$Subtitle{}
$Author{Twain, Mark}
$Affiliation{}
$Subject{tom
wilson
now
blake
knife
old
town
twins
pudd'nhead
believe}
$Date{1905}
$Log{}
Title:       Pudd'nhead Wilson
Author:      Twain, Mark
Date:        1905

Chapter XV

     Nothing so needs reforming as other people's habits.

                    - Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar.

     Behold, the fool saith,
          "Put not all thine eggs in the one basket" -
     which is but a manner of saying,
          "Scatter your money and your attention;"
     but the wise man saith,
     "Put all your eggs in the one basket and - Watch That Basket."

                    - Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar.

     What a time of it Dawson's Landing was having!  All its life it had been
asleep, but now it hardly got a chance for a nod, so swiftly did big events
and crashing surprises come along in one another's wake: Friday morning,
first glimpse of Real Nobility, also grand reception at Aunt Patsy Cooper's,
also great robber raid; Friday evening, dramatic kicking of the heir of the
chief citizen in presence of four hundred people; Saturday morning, emergence
as practicing lawyer of the long-submerged Pudd'nhead Wilson; Saturday night,
duel between chief citizen and titled stranger.

     The people took more pride in the duel than in all the other events put
together, perhaps.  It was a glory to their town to have such a thing happen
there.  In their eyes the principals had reached the summit of human honor.
Everybody paid homage to their names; their praises were in all mouths.  Even
the duelists' subordinates came in for a handsome share of the public
approbation: wherefore Pudd'nhead Wilson was suddenly become a man of
consequence.  When asked to run for the mayoralty Saturday night he was
risking defeat, but Sunday morning found him a made man and his success
assured.

     The twins were prodigiously great, now; the town took them to its bosom
with enthusiasm.  Day after day, and night after night, they went dining and
visiting from house to house, making friends, enlarging and solidifying their
popularity, and charming and surprising all with their musical prodigies, and
now and then heightening the effects with samples of what they could do in
other directions, out of their stock of rare and curious accomplishments.
They were so pleased that they gave the regulation thirty days' notice, the
required preparation for citizenship, and resolved to finish their days in
this pleasant place.  That was the climax.  The delighted community rose as
one man and applauded; and when the twins were asked to stand for seats in
the forthcoming aldermanic board, and consented, the public contentment was
rounded and complete.

     Tom Driscoll was not happy over these things; they sunk deep, and hurt
all the way down.  He hated the one twin for kicking him, and the other one
for being the kicker's brother.

     Now and then the people wondered why nothing was heard of the raider,
or of the stolen knife or the other plunder, but nobody was able to throw any
light on that matter.  Nearly a week had drifted by, and still the thing
remained a vexed mystery.

     On Saturday Constable Blake and Pudd'nhead Wilson met on the street, and
Tom Driscoll joined them in time to open their conversation for them.  He
said to Blake: "You are not looking well, Blake; you seem to be annoyed about
something.  Has anything gone wrong in the detective business?  I believe you
fairly and justifiably claim to have a pretty good reputation in that line,
isn't it so?" - which made Blake feel good, and look it; but Tom added, "for
a country detective" - which made Blake feel the other way, and not only look
it, but betray it in his voice:

     "Yes, sir, I have got a reputation; and it's as good as anybody's in the
profession, too, country or no country."

     "Oh, I beg pardon; I didn't mean any offense.  What I started out to ask
was only about the old woman that raided the town - the stoop-shouldered old
woman, you know, that you said you were going to catch; and I knew you would,
too, because you have the reputation of never boasting, and - well, you -
you've caught the old woman?"

     "D - the old woman!"

     "Why, sho!  you don't mean to say you haven't caught her?"

     "No; I haven't caught her.  If anybody could have caught her, I could;
but nobody couldn't, I don't care who he is."

     "I am sorry, real sorry - for your sake; because, when it gets around
that a detective has expressed himself so confidently, and then - "

     "Don't you worry, that's all - don't you worry; and as for the town, the
town needn't worry, either.  She's my meat - make yourself easy about that.
I'm on her track; I've got clues that - "

     "That's good!  Now if you could get an old veteran detective down from
St. Louis to help you find out what the clues mean, and where they lead to,
and then - "

     "I'm plenty veteran enough myself, and I don't need anybody's help.
I'll have her inside of a we - inside of a month.  That I'll swear to!"

     Tom said carelessly:

     "I suppose that will answer - yes, that will answer.  But I reckon she
is pretty old, and old people don't often outlive the cautious pace of the
professional detective when he has got his clues together and is out on his
still-hunt."

     Blake's dull face flushed under this gibe, but before he could set his
retort in order Tom had turned to Wilson, and was saying, with placid
indifference of manner and voice:

     "Who got the reward, Pudd'nhead?"

     Wilson winced slightly, and saw that his own turn was come.

     "What reward?"

     "Why, the reward for the thief, and the other one for the knife."

     Wilson answered - and rather uncomfortably, to judge by his hesitating
fashion of delivering himself:

     "Well, the - well, in fact, nobody has claimed it yet."

     Tom seemed surprised.

     "Why, is that so?"

     Wilson showed a trifle of irritation when he replied:

     "Yes, it's so.  And what of it?"

     "Oh, nothing.  Only I thought you had struck out a new idea, and
invented a scheme that was going to revolutionize the time-worn and
ineffectual methods of the - " He stopped, and turned to Blake, who was happy
now that another had taken his place on the gridiron: "Blake, didn't you
understand him to intimate that it wouldn't be necessary for you to hunt the
old woman down?"

     "B'George, he said he'd have thief and swag both inside of three days -
 he did, by hokey!  and that's just about a week ago.  Why, I said at the
time that no thief and no thief's pal was going to try to pawn or sell a
thing where he knowed the pawnbroker could get both rewards by taking him
into camp with the swag.  It was the blessedest idea that ever I struck!"

     "You'd change your mind," said Wilson, with irritated bluntness, "if you
knew the entire scheme instead of only part of it."

     "Well," said the constable, pensively, "I had the idea that it wouldn't
work, and up to now I'm right anyway."

     "Very well, then, let it stand at that, and give it a further show.  It
has worked at least as well as your own methods, you perceive."

     The constable hadn't anything handy to hit back with, so he discharged
a discontented sniff, and said nothing.

     After the night that Wilson had partly revealed his scheme at his house,
Tom had tried for several days to guess out the secret of the rest of it, but
had failed.  Then it occurred to him to give Roxana's smarter head a chance
at it.  He made up a supposititious case, and laid it before her.  She
thought it over, and delivered her verdict upon it.  Tom said to himself,
"She's hit it, sure!" He thought he would test that verdict, now, and watch
Wilson's face; so he said reflectively:

     "Wilson, you're not a fool - a fact of recent discovery.  Whatever your
scheme was, it had sense in it, Blake's opinion to the contrary
notwithstanding.  I don't ask you to reveal it, but I will suppose a case -
 a case which will answer as a starting point for the real thing I am going
to come at, and that's all I want.  You offered five hundred dollars for the
knife, and five hundred for the thief.  We will suppose, for argument's sake,
that the first reward is advertised and the second offered by private letter
to pawnbrokers and - "

     Blake slapped his thigh, and cried out:

     "By Jackson, he's got you, Pudd'nhead!  Now why couldn't I or any fool
have thought of that?"

     Wilson said to himself, "Anybody with a reasonably good head would have
thought of it.  I am not surprised that Blake didn't detect it; I am only
surprised that Tom did.  There is more to him than I supposed." He said
nothing aloud, and Tom went on:

     "Very well.  The thief would not suspect that there was a trap, and he
would bring or send the knife, and say he bought it for a song, or found it
in the road, or something like that, and try to collect the reward, and be
arrested - wouldn't he?"

     "Yes," said Wilson.

     "I think so," said Tom.  "There can't be any doubt of it.  Have you ever
seen that knife?"

     "No."

     "Has any friend of yours?"

     "Not that I know of."

     "Well, I begin to think I understand why your scheme failed."

     "What do you mean, Tom?  What are you driving at?" asked Wilson, with
a dawning sense of discomfort.

     "Why, that there isn't any such knife."

     "Look here, Wilson," said Blake, "Tom Driscoll's right, for a thousand
dollars - if I had it."

     Wilson's blood warmed a little, and he wondered if he had been played
upon by those strangers; it certainly had something of that look.  But what
could they gain by it?  He threw out that suggestion.  Tom replied:

     "Gain?  Oh, nothing that you would value, maybe.  But they are strangers
making their way in a new community.  Is it nothing to them to appear as pets
of an Oriental prince - at no expense?  Is it nothing to them to be able to
dazzle this poor little town with thousand-dollar rewards - at no expense?
Wilson, there isn't any such knife, or your scheme would have fetched it to
light.  Or if there is any such knife, they've got it yet.  I believe,
myself, that they've seen such a knife, for Angelo pictured it out with his
pencil too swiftly and handily for him to have been inventing it, and of
course I can't swear that they've never had it; but this I'll go bail for -
 if they had it when they came to this town, they've got it yet."

     Blake said:

     "It looks mighty reasonable, the way Tom puts it; it most certainly
does."

     Tom responded, turning to leave:

     "You find the old woman, Blake, and if she can't furnish the knife, go
and search the twins!"

     Tom sauntered away.  Wilson felt a good deal depressed.  He hardly knew
what to think.  He was loth to withdraw his faith from the twins, and was
resolved not to do it on the present indecisive evidence; but - well, he
would think, and then decide how to act.

     "Blake, what do you think of this matter?"

     "Well, Pudd'nhead, I'm bound to say I put it up the way Tom does.  They
hadn't the knife; or if they had it, they've got it yet."

     The men parted.  Wilson said to himself:

     "I believe they had it; if it had been stolen, the scheme would have
restored it, that is certain.  And so I believe they've got it yet."

     Tom had no purpose in his mind when he encountered those two men.  When
he began his talk he hoped to be able to gall them a little and get a trifle
of malicious entertainment out of it.  But when he left, he left in great
spirits, for he perceived that just by pure luck and no troublesome labor he
had accomplished several delightful things: he had touched both men on a raw
spot and seen them squirm; he had modified Wilson's sweetness for the twins
with one small bitter taste that he wouldn't be able to get out of his mouth
right away; and, best of all, he had taken the hated twins down a peg with
the community; for Blake would gossip around freely, after the manner of
detectives, and within a week the town would be laughing at them in its
sleeve for offering a gaudy reward for a bauble which they either never
possessed or hadn't lost.  Tom was very well satisfied with himself.

     Tom's behavior at home had been perfect during the entire week.  His
uncle and aunt had seen nothing like it before.  They could find no fault
with him anywhere.

     Saturday evening he said to the Judge:

     "I've had something preying on my mind, uncle, and as I am going away,
and might never see you again, I can't bear it any longer.  I made you
believe I was afraid to fight that Italian adventurer.  I had to get out of
it on some pretext or other, and maybe I chose badly, being taken unawares,
but no honorable person could consent to meet him in the field, knowing what
I know about him."

     "Indeed?  What was that?"

     "Count Luigi is a confessed assassin."

     "Incredible!"

     "It is perfectly true.  Wilson detected it in his hand, by palmistry,
and charged him with it, and cornered him up so close that he had to confess;
but both twins begged us on their knees to keep the secret, and swore they
would lead straight lives here; and it was all so pitiful that we gave our
word of honor never to expose them while they kept that promise.  You would
have done it yourself, uncle."

     "You are right, my boy; I would.  A man's secret is still his own
property, and sacred, when it has been surprised out of him like that.  You
did well, and I am proud of you." Then he added mournfully, "But I wish I
could have been saved the shame of meeting an assassin on the field of
honor."

     "It couldn't be helped, uncle.  If I had known you were going to
challenge him I should have felt obliged to sacrifice my pledged word in
order to stop it, but Wilson couldn't be expected to do otherwise than keep
silent."

     "Oh, no; Wilson did right, and is in no way to blame.  Tom, Tom, you
have lifted a heavy load from my heart; I was stung to the very soul when I
seemed to have discovered that I had a coward in my family."

     "You may imagine what it cost me to assume such a part, uncle."

     "Oh, I know it, poor boy, I know it.  And I can understand how much it
has cost you to remain under that unjust stigma to this time.  But it is all
right now, and no harm is done.  You have restored my comfort of mind, and
with it your own; and both of us had suffered enough."

     The old man sat awhile plunged in thought; then he looked up with a
satisfied light in his eye, and said: "That this assassin should have put the
affront upon me of letting me meet him on the field of honor as if he were
a gentleman is a matter which I will presently settle - but not now.  I will
not shoot him until after election.  I see a way to ruin them both before;
I will attend to that first.  Neither of them shall be elected, that I
promise.  You are sure that the fact that he is an assassin has not got
abroad?"

     "Perfectly certain of it, sir."

     "It will be a good card.  I will fling a hint at it from the stump on
the polling day.  It will sweep the ground from under both of them."

     "There's not a doubt of it.  It will finish them."

     "That and outside work among the voters will, to a certainty.  I want
you to come down here by and by and work privately among the rag-tag and
bobtail.  You shall spend money among them; I will furnish it."

     Another point scored against the detested twins!  Really it was a great
day for Tom.  He was encouraged to chance a parting shot, now, at the same
target, and did it.

     "You know that wonderful Indian knife that the twins have been making
such a to-do about?  Well, there's no track or trace of it yet; so the town
is beginning to sneer and gossip and laugh.  Half the people believe they
never had any such knife, the other half believe they had it and have got it
still.  I've heard twenty people talking like that today."

     Yes, Tom's blemishless week had restored him to the favor of his aunt
and uncle.

     His mother was satisfied with him, too.  Privately, she believed she was
coming to love him, but she did not say so.  She told him to go along to St.
Louis, now, and she would get ready and follow.  Then she smashed her whisky
bottle and said:

     "Dah now!  I's a-gwyne to make you walk as straight as a string,
Chambers, en so I's bown' you ain't gwyne to git no bad example out o' yo'
mammy.  I tole you you couldn't go into no bad comp'ny.  Well, you's gwyne
into my comp'ny, en I's gwyne to fill de bill.  Now, den, trot along, trot
along!"

     Tom went aboard one of the big transient boats that night with his heavy
satchel of miscellaneous plunder, and slept the sleep of the unjust, which
is serener and sounder than the other kind, as we know by the hanging-eve
history of a million rascals.  But when he got up in the morning, luck was
against him again: A brother thief had robbed him while he slept, and gone
ashore at some intermediate landing.