“We looked over every place that you looked and didn’t find any,” I answered. “Every place except under the house.”
“And I don’t blame you for not going there,” said Henderson, with a laugh. “We went under there and got as dirty as so many pigs. You saw me come there with two men, didn’t you?”
“You certainly did.”
“And I looked everywhere for the pocket-book and didn’t find it,” added Henderson. “In fact I examined everything, and not a thing in the shape of a pocket-book did I discover. I tell you, gentlemen, there is none there. Now, I can sell you these cattle cheaper than you can buy them anywhere else. I have got to go North on business, and I may not come back; and I want to get rid of everything I have got down here.”
“Of all the impudence I ever heard, you are the beat,” I muttered, and it was all I could do to keep from pulling out the pocket-book and shaking it under Henderson’s nose; but I knew that wouldn’t do. I must first place the pocket-book in Mr. Chisholm’s hands, and then I could say what I had a mind to. While Henderson was talking he kept his eyes fastened upon one man, and another in the group looked as fixedly at me. I scowled at him repeatedly, and finally the man brightened up and said slowly:
“I’d like to buy these cattle, because I can get them cheaper than I can anywhere else; but I want to be certain that the man has got a right to them before he lets ’em go.”
“All the will that was made was in that pocket-book,” said Henderson impatiently. “And you all saw that there was no will at all. Being next of kin I am entitled to all his property.”
“But,” continued the man, “the boys say they did not find anything while you were there. Now I want to know if they found anything after you left. That’s what’s a-bothering of me.”
I didn’t make any reply to this question, I wanted it to be put to me before I answered. The men all looked at me, but I remained as dumb as one of the cattle that were feeding around.
“You don’t answer that question,” said the man.