"Tschappatt, you must have a pretty hard time of it to get along and support a family. How would you like to enter a scheme where you could make a thousand dollars?"
Tschappatt innocently replied that he was in on it. "How is the money to be made?" he asked.
Leading Tschappatt over to one corner of the saloon, the bailiff revealed the scheme.
"I'll tell you what I want you to do," he said. "Get on the jury, if you possibly can, and there's a thousand dollars in it for you if you stick out for an acquittal."
Tschappatt immediately tore himself away from the bailiff's grasp, and replied emphatically that he would have nothing to do with it.
"You ought to know me well enough, Soloman," he said, "to know that no amount of money could bribe me to defeat the ends of justice. If the prisoners on trial are guilty of what they are charged with, I say hang them, and everybody else who is connected with the conspiracy. No, sir; you can't bribe me, and you ought to know that."
With this the venireman attempted to get away from the bailiff, but Soloman held on to him with a vise-like grasp.
"Don't be a fool, Tschappatt," said Soloman, "you're a poor man, and ought to know that a thousand dollars is not to be picked up every day. Now, listen to me, and I'll show you how you can make it and nobody will ever be the wiser. If you properly answer the questions put to you by the lawyers you will in all probability be passed and sworn in as a juror. Now, I'll see that you get the money—leave that to me. Of course the money won't be given to you, but your wife will get it, so it will be all the same. On a certain day that you will appoint she will appear in court wearing a certain dress that you will designate. By that you will know that she has received the money, and if she doesn't wear that dress you will know the reverse. But don't let that trouble you. She'll get the money.
"Soloman," said Tschappatt, "what kind of a man do you take me for? You first ask me to sell myself and then you want to drag my wife into it. I have a good mind to knock you down. You deserve it."
"Well, there's no use getting hot about it," said Soloman. "I thought I was doing you a good turn, and only that we have known each other for years I would not have put a thousand dollars in your way. But you can do just as you please about it—accept it or reject it. If I were you, however, I would consider the proposition. It will be many a long day before you get a chance again to make a cool thousand."