and I wished I could tell her a thousand lies, so she could do it again. I says to myself, this is _another_ one that I'm letting him rob her of her money.  And when she got through they all jest laid theirselves out to make me feel at home and know I was amongst friends.  I felt so ornery and low down and mean that I says to myself, my mind's made up; I'll hive that money for them or bust. So then I lit out--for bed, I said, meaning some time or another.  When I got by myself I went to thinking the thing over.  I says to myself, shall I go to that doctor, private, and blow on these frauds?  No--that won't do. He might tell who told him; then the king and the duke would make it warm for me.  Shall I go, private, and tell Mary Jane?  No--I dasn't do it. Her face would give them a hint, sure; they've got the money, and they'd slide right out and get away with it.  If she was to fetch in help I'd get mixed up in the business before it was done with, I judge.  No; there ain't no good way but one.  I got to steal that money, somehow; and I got to steal it some way that they won't suspicion that I done it. They've got a good thing here, and they ain't a-going to leave till they've played this family and this town for all they're worth, so I'll find a chance time enough. I'll steal it and hide it; and by and by, when I'm away down the river, I'll write a letter and tell Mary Jane where it's hid.  But I better hive it tonight if I can, because the doctor maybe hasn't let up as much as he lets on he has; he might scare them out of here yet. So, thinks I, I'll go and search them rooms.  Upstairs the hall was dark, but I found the duke's room, and started to paw around it with my hands; but I recollected it wouldn't be much like the king to let anybody else take care of that money but his own self; so then I went to his room and begun to paw around there.  But I see I couldn't do nothing without a candle, and I dasn't light one, of course.  So I judged I'd got to do the ot