onist; Castlewood is the name of the man that I
have come to ask about. And you will find it worth your while to tell me
all you know of him." Thus spoke the Englishman sitting in the corner;
and he seemed to be certain of producing his effect.

"Wal," said Uncle Sam, assuming what all true Britons believe to be the
universal Yankee tone, while I knew that he was laughing in his sleeve,
"Squire, I guess that you may be right. Considerations of that 'ere kind
desarves to be considered of."

"Just so. I knew that you must see it," the stranger continued, bravely.
"A stiff upper lip, as you call it here, is all very well to begin with.
But all you enlightened members of the great republic know what is what.
It will bring you more than ten years' income of your saw-mill, and
farm, and so on, to deal honestly with me for ten minutes. No more
beating about the bush and fencing with me, as you have done. Now can
you see your own interest?"

"I never were reckoned a fool at that. Squire, make tracks, and be done
with it."

"Then, Master Colonist, or Colonel--for I believe you are all colonels
here--your task is very simple. We want clear proof, sworn properly and
attested duly, of the death of a villain--George Castlewood, otherwise
the Honorable George Castlewood, otherwise Lord Castlewood: a man who
murdered his own father ten years ago this November: a man committed
for trial for the crime, but who bribed his jailers and escaped, and
wandered all over the Continent. What is that noise? Have you got rats?"

"Plenty of foreign rats, and native 'coons, and skunks, and other
varmint. Wal, Squire, go on with it."

The voice of Uncle Sam was stern, and his face full of rising fury, as
I, who had made that noise in my horror, tried to hush my heart with
patience.

"The story is well known," continued the stranger: "we need make no
bones of it. George Castlewood went about under a curse--"

"Not quite so loud, Squire, if you please. My household is not
altogether seasoned."

"And perhaps you have got the young lady somewhere. I heard a report to
that effect. But here you think nothing of a dozen murders. Now, Gundry,
let us have no squeamishness. We only want justice, and we can pay for
it. Ten thousand dollars I am authorized to offer for a mere act of duty
on your part. We have an extradition treaty. If the man had been alive,
we must have had him. But as he has cheated the hangman by dying, we can
only see his grave an