"Well, here's a pretty business, damned if there isn't," said the new arrival, seating himself indignantly.
"What's the matter?" asked Vinal.
"What's the matter! Why, there's a good deal the matter. There was a young man in Philadelphy named Wilkins,—John Wilkins,—I've known him ever sence he was knee high to a toad, and a likelier young feller there isn't in the States. He was goin' on to make a right smart, active, business man, too. Well, he was clerk in one of the biggest drug concerns south of New York city,—Gooch and Scammony,—I tell you, they do a tall business out west, and no mistake. No, sir, Gooch and Scammony ain't hardly got their beat in the drug business nowhere."
"But what about the clerk?"
"What about him? Why, that's just what I was going on to tell you. Well, John, he had a little money laid up; so he thought he'd just come out and see a bit of the world. Well, there was a German there at Philadelphy who had to cut stick from the old country on account of some political muss or other. John and he worn't on good terms;—it was about a gal, John says. However, jest about the time John talked of coming out to Europe, the German comes and makes it up, and pretends to be friends again. 'John,' says he, 'I've got relations out to Vienny, where I come from; first-rate, genteel folks; now,' says he, 'perhaps you might like me to make you acquainted with 'em. They'd do the handsome thing by you, and no mistake.' 'Well,' says John, 'I don't mind if you do.' So the German gives him some letters; and, sure enough, they treated him very civil; but the very next morning, before he was out of bed, up comes the police, and carries him off to jail; and that, I guess, would have been about the last we'd ever have seen of John Wilkins, if, by the slimmest ghost of a chance, he hadn't got word to our minister, and the minister blowed out so hard about it, that they just let John go, and said they was very sorry, and it was all a mistake, but he'd better make tracks out of Austria in double quick time, because if he didn't, they didn't know as there was any body there would undertake to be responsible for what might happen."
Here the orator's breath quite failed, and he coughed till his hatchet face turned blue. Vinal reflected in silence.
"Wasn't he an Amerikin?" pursued the small man, "and didn't he have an Amerikin passport in his pocket? I expect to go where I please, and keep what company I please,—uh,—uh,—uh. I'm an Amerikin,—uh,—and that's enough; and a considerable wide margin to spare,—uh,—uh,—uh."
"But what evidence is there that the German had any thing to do with the affair?"
"That's the deused part of the business. There ain't no evidence to fix it on him."
"Were the letters he gave your friend sealed?"