"Not much money in it, is there?"
"No, suh; not much. Folks is more prone to offer me old clothes than they are to pay me in cash. Still, I manage to git along. I don't live very fancy; but, then, I don't starve, and that's more'n some kin say."
"Peep, whut was the most money you ever had in your life—at one time?"
Peep scratched with a freckled hand at his thatch of faded whitish hair to stimulate recollection.
"I reckin not more'n six bits at any one time, suh. Seems like I've sorter got the knack of livin' without money."
"Well, Peep, sech bein' the case, whut would you say ef I was to tell you that you're a rich man?"
The answer came slowly.
"I reckin, suh, ef it didn't sound disrespectful, I'd say you was prankin' with me—makin' fun of me, suh."
Judge Priest bent forward in his chair.
"I'm not prankin' with you. It's my pleasant duty to inform you that at this moment you are the rightful owner of eight thousand pounds."