Take any interest in the
incident except the man who lost, and the man who found.
By the time the travelers pulled up at a store in Bakersville they
had lost all expectation of recovering the missing article, and were
discussing the investment of more money in an advertisement in the
weekly newspaper of the capital. The Professor, whose reform
sentiments agreed with those of the newspaper, advised it. There was
a group of idlers, mica acquaintances of the morning, and
philosophers in front of the store, and the Friend opened the
colloquy by asking if a man named David Thomas had been seen in town.
He was in town, had ridden in within an hour, and his brother, who
was in the group, would go in search of him. The information was
then given of the loss, and that the rider had met David Thomas just
before it was discovered, on the mountain beyond the Toe. The news
made a sensation, and by the time David Thomas appeared a crowd of a
hundred had drawn around the horsemen eager for further developments.
Mr. Thomas was the least excited of the group as he took his position
on the sidewalk, conscious of the dignity of the occasion and that he
was about to begin a duel in which both reputation and profit were
concerned. He recollected meeting the travelers in the morning.
The Friend said, "I discovered that I had lost my purse just after
meeting you; it may have been dropped in Toe River, but I was told
back here that if David Thomas had picked it up, it was as safe as if
it were in the bank."
"What sort of a pocket-book was it?" asked Mr. Thomas.
"It was of crocodile skin, or what is sold for that, very likely it
is an imitation, and about so large indicating the size."
"What had it in it?"
"Various things. Some specimens of mica; some bank checks, some
money."
"Anything else?"
"Yes, a photograph. And, oh, something that I presume is not in
another pocket-book in North Carolina, - in an envelope, a lock of the
hair of George Washington, the Father of his Country." Sensation
mixed with incredulity. Washington's hair did seem such an odd part
of an outfit for a journey of this kind.
"How much money was in it?"
"That I cannot say, exactly. I happen to remember four twenty-dollar
United States notes, and a roll of small bills, perhaps something
over a hundred dollars."
"Is that the pocket-book?" asked David Thomas, slowly pulling the
loved and lost out of his trousers pocket.
"It is."
"You'd be willing to take your oath on it?"
"I should be delighted to."
"Well, I guess there ain't so much money in it.
