"Hurrah!" from some of the wild spirits of the crowd. "Go on, Burke," from others.
"Yes, wot I say is—Justice forever! Fair play an' no favor: that's wot I say!"
Another cheer greeted the bold assertion of these noble sentiments.
"Now, here it is," continued Burke, becoming much excited, "wot's to hinder that there letter bein' a forgery?—aye, that's the word, a forgery? (Hear! hear!), got up apurpose to bamboozle us chaps that ain't lawyers. D'ye see?"
Burke glanced at Dan, and smote his thigh triumphantly as he said this.
"It does not look like a forgery," said Dan, holding up the letter and pointing to the writing. "I leave it to yourselves to say if it sounds like a forgery—"
"I don't care a farthin' dip for yer looks and sounds," cried Burke, interrupting the other. "No man is goin' for to tell me that anybody can trust to looks and sounds. Why, I've know'd the greatest villain that ever chewed the end of a smuggled cigar look as innocent as the babe unborn. An' is there a man here wot'll tell me he hasn't often an' over again mistook the crack of a big gun for a clap o' thunder?"
This was received with much approval by the crowd, which had evidently more than half-forgotten the terrible purpose for which it had assembled there, and was now much interested in what bade fair to be a keen dispute. When the noise abated, Dan raised his voice and said:
"If Burke had not interrupted me, I was going to have said that another thing which proves the letter to be no forgery is, that the postmark of San Francisco is on the back of it, with the date all right."
This statement delighted the crowd immensely, and caused Burke to look disconcerted for a few seconds; he rallied, however, and returned to the charge.