can't hardly believe it, but he didn't.  I reckon he thought he'd keep the thing up till he tired them people out, so they'd thin out, and him and the duke could break loose and get away.  Anyway, he set there, and pretty soon he begun to smile, and says: “Mf!  It's a _very_ tough question, _ain't_ it!  _yes_, sir, I k'n tell you what's tattooed on his breast.  It's jest a small, thin, blue arrow--that's what it is; and if you don't look clost, you can't see it.  _now_ what do you say--hey?” Well, I never see anything like that old blister for clean out-and-out cheek. The new old gentleman turns brisk towards Ab Turner and his pard, and his eye lights up like he judged he'd got the king _this_ time, and says: “There--you've heard what he said!  Was there any such mark on Peter Wilks' breast?” Both of them spoke up and says: “We didn't see no such mark.” “Good!” says the old gentleman. “Now, what you _did_ see on his breast was a small dim P, and a B (which is an initial he dropped when he was young), and a W, with dashes between them, so:  P--B--W”--and he marked them that way on a piece of paper. “Come, ain't that what you saw?” Both of them spoke up again, and says: “No, we _didn't_.  We never seen any marks at all.” Well, everybody _was_ in a state of mind now, and they sings out: “The whole _bilin_' of 'm 's frauds!  Le's duck 'em! le's drown 'em! le's ride 'em on a rail!” and everybody was whooping at once, and there was a rattling powwow.  But the lawyer he jumps on the table and yells, and says: “Gentlemen--gentle_men!_  Hear me just a word--just a _single_ word--if you _please_!  There's one way yet--let's go and dig up the corpse and look.” That took them. “Hooray!” they all shouted, and was starting right off; but the lawyer and the doctor sung out: “Hold on, hold on!  Collar all these four men and the boy, and fetch _them_ along, too!” “We'll do it!” they all shouted; “and if we don't find them marks we'll lynch the whole gang!” I _was