Ben passed the papers toward him and he affixed his signature. Ben followed with his, and then he turned to Hodges.
“Will you sign here, Mr. Hodges?” he said.
“Yes, I’ll sign the tomfoolery to oblige you,” replied the locksmith. But before he put his name to the paper he relieved his mind by making several sneering remarks.
“Talk about di’monds and coal being the same! Why, that won’t be in it, when it comes to findin’ gold in soot and bricks!” he said. “Ben, you’ll be a regular what-do-you-call-it—chemist?”
“An alchemist? I hope so,” Ben replied with flushed cheeks. “We ought to have another witness,” he added.
A man who was examining some keys in the back part of the shop came forward.
“I’ll sign, if you want me to,” he said. “I heard the whole business,—couldn’t help it.”
They agreed and he wrote his name, “Andrew Mundon,” in a good bold hand.
Ben then paid Mr. Madge the coveted twenties and the party separated.
Ben was eager to make his escape. He shrank from the coarse sarcasm which he knew would be his share if he remained in the vicinity of the shop, and he wanted to be alone to think over the matter.