The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg, and Other Stories

by Mark Twain

  III

  The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end of it wasbacked by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the wallswere festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; thesupporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress thestranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a largedegree he would be connected with the press. The house was full. The412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs which had beenpacked into the aisles; the steps of the platform were occupied;some distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; at thehorseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform sata strong force of special correspondents who had come from everywhere.It was the best-dressed house the town had ever produced. There weresome tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases theladies who wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that kind ofclothes. At least the town thought they had that look, but the notioncould have arisen from the town's knowledge of the fact that theseladies had never inhabited such clothes before.

  The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform whereall the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed at it with aburning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and patheticinterest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, lovingly,proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying over tothemselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness for theaudience's applause and congratulations which they were presently goingto get up and deliver. Every now and then one of these got a piece ofpaper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced at it to refresh hismemory.

  Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on--there always is;but at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on thesack, he could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. Herelated the curious history of the sack, then went on to speak inwarm terms of Hadleyburg's old and well-earned reputation for spotlesshonesty, and of the town's just pride in this reputation. He said thatthis reputation was a treasure of priceless value; that under Providenceits value had now become inestimably enhanced, for the recent episodehad spread this fame far and wide, and thus had focussed the eyes of theAmerican world upon this village, and made its name for all time, ashe hoped and believed, a synonym for commercial incorruptibility.(Applause.) "And who is to be the guardian of this noble fame--thecommunity as a whole? No! The responsibility is individual, notcommunal. From this day forth each and every one of you is in his ownperson its special guardian, and individually responsible that no harmshall come to it. Do you--does each of you--accept this great trust?(Tumultuous assent.) Then all is well. Transmit it to your children andto your children's children. To-day your purity is beyond reproach--seeto it that it shall remain so. To-day there is not a person in yourcommunity who could be beguiled to touch a penny not his own--see toit that you abide in this grace. ("We will! we will!") This is not theplace to make comparisons between ourselves and other communities--someof them ungracious towards us; they have their ways, we have ours; letus be content. (Applause.) I am done. Under my hand, my friends, restsa stranger's eloquent recognition of what we are; through him the worldwill always henceforth know what we are. We do not know who he is, butin your name I utter your gratitude, and ask you to raise your voices inindorsement."

  The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders ofits thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat down,and Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The house held itsbreath while he slit the envelope open and took from it a slip of paper.He read its contents--slowly and impressively--the audience listeningwith tranced attention to this magic document, each of whose words stoodfor an ingot of gold:

  "'The remark which I made to the distressed stranger was this: "You arevery far from being a bad man; go, and reform."' Then he continued:--'Weshall know in a moment now whether the remark here quoted correspondswith the one concealed in the sack; and if that shall prove tobe so--and it undoubtedly will--this sack of gold belongs to afellow-citizen who will henceforth stand before the nation as the symbolof the special virtue which has made our town famous throughout theland--Mr. Billson!'"

  The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper tornadoof applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken with aparalysis; there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave ofwhispered murmurs swept the place--of about this tenor: "BILLSON!oh, come, this is TOO thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger--orANYBODY--BILLSON! Tell it to the marines!" And now at this point thehouse caught its breath all of a sudden in a new access of astonishment,for it discovered that whereas in one part of the hall Deacon Billsonwas standing up with his head meekly bowed, in another part of it LawyerWilson was doing the same. There was a wondering silence now for awhile. Everybody was puzzled, and nineteen couples were surprised andindignant.

  Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson asked,bitingly:

  "Why do YOU rise, Mr. Wilson?"

  "Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good enough to explainto the house why YOU rise."

  "With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper."

  "It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself."

  It was Burgess's turn to be paralysed. He stood looking vacantly atfirst one of the men and then the other, and did not seem to know whatto do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson spoke up now, and said:

  "I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper."

  That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name:

  "John Wharton BILLSON."

  "There!" shouted Billson, "what have you got to say for yourselfnow? And what kind of apology are you going to make to me and to thisinsulted house for the imposture which you have attempted to play here?"

  "No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly chargeyou with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting a copy ofit signed with your own name. There is no other way by which you couldhave gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of living men, possessedthe secret of its wording."

  There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this wenton; everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes werescribbling like mad; many people were crying "Chair, chair! Order!order!" Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said:

  "Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently been amistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me anenvelope--and I remember now that he did--I still have it."

  He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, lookedsurprised and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved hishand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two to saysomething, then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried out:

  "Read it! read it! What is it?"

  So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion:

  "'The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was this: "You arefar from being a bad man. (The house gazed at him marvelling.) Go, andreform."'" (Murmurs: "Amazing! what can this mean?") "This one," saidthe Chair, "is signed Thurlow G. Wilson."

  "There!" cried Wilson, "I reckon that settles it! I knew perfectly wellmy note was purloined."

  "Purloined!" retorted Billson. "I'll let you know that neither you norany man of your kidney must venture to--"

  The Chair: "Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, both of you,please."

  They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The housewas profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curiousemergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He wouldhave liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his stock ofhats was not considerable enough for the position. He said:

  "Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both ofthese gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can both have happenedto say the very same words to the stranger? It seems to me--"

  The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner
was a disgruntled man;he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn't getrecognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and speech.Said he:

  "Sho, THAT'S not the point! THAT could happen--twice in a hundredyears--but not the other thing. NEITHER of them gave the twentydollars!" (A ripple of applause.)

  Billson. "I did!"

  Wilson. "I did!"

  Then each accused the other of pilfering.

  The Chair. "Order! Sit down, if you please--both of you. Neither of thenotes has been out of my possession at any moment."

  A Voice. "Good--that settles THAT!"

  The Tanner. "Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one of these menhas been eavesdropping under the other one's bed, and filching familysecrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will remarkthat both are equal to it. (The Chair. "Order! order!") I withdraw theremark, sir, and will confine myself to suggesting that IF one of themhas overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we shallcatch him now."

  A Voice. "How?"

  The Tanner. "Easily. The two have not quoted the remark in exactlythe same words. You would have noticed that, if there hadn't been aconsiderable stretch of time and an exciting quarrel inserted betweenthe two readings."

  A Voice. "Name the difference."

  The Tanner. "The word VERY is in Billson's note, and not in the other."

  Many Voices. "That's so--he's right!"

  The Tanner. "And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark inthe sack, we shall know which of these two frauds--(The Chair."Order!")--which of these two adventurers--(The Chair. "Order!order!")--which of these two gentlemen--(laughter and applause)--isentitled to wear the belt as being the first dishonest blatherskite everbred in this town--which he has dishonoured, and which will be a sultryplace for him from now out!" (Vigorous applause.)

  Many Voices. "Open it!--open the sack!"

  Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought outan envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He said:

  "One of these is marked, 'Not to be examined until all writtencommunications which have been addressed to the Chair--if any--shallhave been read.' The other is marked 'THE TEST.' Allow me. It isworded--to wit:

  "'I do not require that the first half of the remark which was madeto me by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, for it was notstriking, and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen words arequite striking, and I think easily rememberable; unless THESE shall beaccurately reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an impostor. Mybenefactor began by saying he seldom gave advice to anyone, but that italways bore the hallmark of high value when he did give it. Then he saidthis--and it has never faded from my memory: 'YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING ABAD MAN--'"

  Fifty Voices. "That settles it--the money's Wilson's! Wilson! Wilson!Speech! Speech!"

  People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand andcongratulating fervently--meantime the Chair was hammering with thegavel and shouting:

  "Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish reading, please." Whenquiet was restored, the reading was resumed--as follows:

  "'GO, AND REFORM--OR, MARK MY WORDS--SOME DAY, FOR YOUR SINS YOU WILLDIE AND GO TO HELL OR HADLEYBURG--TRY AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.'"

  A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle darklyupon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud began torise, and a tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so hardthat it was only kept under with great and painful difficulty; thereporters, the Brixtonites, and other strangers bent their heads downand shielded their faces with their hands, and managed to hold in bymain strength and heroic courtesy. At this most inopportune time burstupon the stillness the roar of a solitary voice--Jack Halliday's:

  "THAT'S got the hall-mark on it!"

  Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess's gravitybroke down presently, then the audience considered itself officiallyabsolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege.It was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously wholehearted one, but itceased at last--long enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, and forthe people to get their eyes partially wiped; then it broke out again,and afterward yet again; then at last Burgess was able to get out theseserious words:

  "It is useless to try to disguise the fact--we find ourselves in thepresence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour of yourtown--it strikes at the town's good name. The difference of a singleword between the test-remarks offered by Mr. Wilson and Mr. Billsonwas itself a serious thing, since it indicated that one or the other ofthese gentlemen had committed a theft--"

  The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these wordsboth were electrified into movement, and started to get up.

  "Sit down!" said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. "That, as I havesaid, was a serious thing. And it was--but for only one of them. But thematter has become graver; for the honour of BOTH is now in formidableperil. Shall I go even further, and say in inextricable peril? BOTH leftout the crucial fifteen words." He paused. During several moments heallowed the pervading stillness to gather and deepen its impressiveeffects, then added: "There would seem to be but one way whereby thiscould happen. I ask these gentlemen--Was there COLLUSION?--AGREEMENT?"

  A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, "He's got themboth."

  Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. ButWilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and worried, andsaid:

  "I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most painfulmatter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since it must inflictirreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always esteemed andrespected until now, and in whose invulnerability to temptation Ientirely believed--as did you all. But for the preservation of my ownhonour I must speak--and with frankness. I confess with shame--and I nowbeseech your pardon for it--that I said to the ruined stranger allof the words contained in the test-remark, including the disparagingfifteen. (Sensation.) When the late publication was made I recalledthem, and I resolved to claim the sack of coin, for by every right I wasentitled to it. Now I will ask you to consider this point, and weigh itwell; that stranger's gratitude to me that night knew no bounds; he saidhimself that he could find no words for it that were adequate, and thatif he should ever be able he would repay me a thousandfold. Now, then,I ask you this; could I expect--could I believe--could I even remotelyimagine--that, feeling as he did, he would do so ungrateful a thing asto add those quite unnecessary fifteen words to his test?--set a trapfor me?--expose me as a slanderer of my own town before my own peopleassembled in a public hall? It was preposterous; it was impossible. Histest would contain only the kindly opening clause of my remark. Of thatI had no shadow of doubt. You would have thought as I did. You wouldnot have expected a base betrayal from one whom you had befriendedand against whom you had committed no offence. And so with perfectconfidence, perfect trust, I wrote on a piece of paper the openingwords--ending with "Go, and reform,"--and signed it. When I was aboutto put it in an envelope I was called into my back office, and withoutthinking I left the paper lying open on my desk." He stopped, turned hishead slowly toward Billson, waited a moment, then added: "I ask you tonote this; when I returned, a little latter, Mr. Billson was retiring bymy street door." (Sensation.)

  In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting:

  "It's a lie! It's an infamous lie!"

  The Chair. "Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the floor."

  Billson's friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, and Wilsonwent on:

  "Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in a different placeon the table from where I had left it. I noticed that, but attachedno importance to it, thinking a draught had blown it there. That Mr.Billson would read a private paper was a thing which could not occur tome; he was an honourable man, and he would be above that. If you willallow me to say it, I think his extra word 'VERY' stands explained: itis attributable to a defect
of memory. I was the only man in the worldwho could furnish here any detail of the test-mark--by HONOURABLE means.I have finished."

  There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle themental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions ofan audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. Wilsonsat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of approvingapplause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand andcongratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed to say aword. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, and kept shouting:

  "But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!"

  At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said:

  "But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the money?"

  Voices. "That's it! That's it! Come forward, Wilson!"

  The Hatter. "I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol of the specialvirtue which--"

  The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midstof them--and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also--someenthusiasts mounted Wilson on a big friend's shoulder and were going tofetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair's voice now rose abovethe noise:

  "Order! To your places! You forget that there is still a document tobe read." When quiet had been restored he took up the document, and wasgoing to read it, but laid it down again saying "I forgot; this is notto be read until all written communications received by me havefirst been read." He took an envelope out of his pocket, removed itsenclosure, glanced at it--seemed astonished--held it out and gazed atit--stared at it.

  Twenty or thirty voices cried out:

  "What is it? Read it! read it!"

  And he did--slowly, and wondering:

  "'The remark which I made to the stranger--(Voices. "Hello! how'sthis?")--was this: "You are far from being a bad man. (Voices. "GreatScott!") Go, and reform."' (Voice. "Oh, saw my leg off!") Signed by Mr.Pinkerton the banker."

  The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a sortto make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung laughedtill the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, set downdisordered pot-hooks which would never in the world be decipherable; anda sleeping dog jumped up scared out of its wits, and barked itself crazyat the turmoil. All manner of cries were scattered through the din:"We're getting rich--TWO Symbols of Incorruptibility!--without countingBillson!" "THREE!--count Shadbelly in--we can't have too many!" "Allright--Billson's elected!" "Alas, poor Wilson! victim of TWO thieves!"

  A Powerful Voice. "Silence! The Chair's fished up something more out ofits pocket."

  Voices. "Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read it! read! read!"

  The Chair (reading). "'The remark which I made,' etc. 'You are far frombeing a bad man. Go,' etc. Signed, 'Gregory Yates.'"

  Tornado of Voices. "Four Symbols!" "'Rah for Yates!" "Fish again!"

  The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun outof the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, looking paleand distressed, got up and began to work their way towards the aisles,but a score of shouts went up:

  "The doors, the doors--close the doors; no Incorruptible shall leavethis place! Sit down, everybody!" The mandate was obeyed.

  "Fish again! Read! read!"

  The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to fallfrom its lips--"'You are far from being a bad man--'"

  "Name! name! What's his name?"

  "'L. Ingoldsby Sargent.'"

  "Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!"

  "'You are far from being a bad--'"

  "Name! name!"

  "'Nicholas Whitworth.'"

  "Hooray! hooray! it's a symbolical day!"

  Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out "it's") tothe lovely "Mikado" tune of "When a man's afraid of a beautifulmaid;" the audience joined in, with joy; then, just in time, somebodycontributed another line--

  "And don't you this forget--"

  The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished--

  "Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are--"

  The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack Halliday'svoice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line--

  "But the Symbols are here, you bet!"

  That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house startedin at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, with immenseswing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three-times-three and atiger for "Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all Symbols of it which weshall find worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night."

  Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place:

  "Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you've got!"

  "That's it--go on! We are winning eternal celebrity!"

  A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that this farcewas the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to the wholecommunity. Without a doubt these signatures were all forgeries--

  "Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. We'll find your namesin the lot."

  "Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?"

  The Chair counted.

  "Together with those that have been already examined, there arenineteen."

  A storm of derisive applause broke out.

  "Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you open them all andread every signature that is attached to a note of that sort--and readalso the first eight words of the note."

  "Second the motion!"

  It was put and carried--uproariously. Then poor old Richards got up,and his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was bent down, so thatnone might see that she was crying. Her husband gave her his arm, and sosupporting her, he began to speak in a quavering voice:

  "My friends, you have known us two--Mary and me--all our lives, and Ithink you have liked us and respected us--"

  The Chair interrupted him:

  "Allow me. It is quite true--that which you are saying, Mr. Richards;this town DOES know you two; it DOES like you; it DOES respect you;more--it honours you and LOVES you--"

  Halliday's voice rang out:

  "That's the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair is right, let the housespeak up and say it. Rise! Now, then--hip! hip! hip!--all together!"

  The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled theair with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the cheerswith all its affectionate heart.

  The Chair then continued:

  "What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, Mr. Richards,but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward offenders.(Shouts of "Right! right!") I see your generous purpose in your face,but I cannot allow you to plead for these men--"

  "But I was going to--"

  "Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine the rest of thesenotes--simple fairness to the men who have already been exposed requiresthis. As soon as that has been done--I give you my word for this--youshall be heard."

  Many voices. "Right!--the Chair is right--no interruption can bepermitted at this stage! Go on!--the names! the names!--according to theterms of the motion!"

  The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to thewife, "It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will be greaterthan ever when they find we were only going to plead for OURSELVES."

  Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the names.

  "'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Robert J. Titmarsh.'"

  '"You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Eliphalet Weeks.'"

  "'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Oscar B. Wilder.'"

  At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words outof the Chairman's hands. He was not unthankful for that. Thenceforwardhe held up each note in its turn and waited. The house droned out theeight words in a massed and measured and
musical deep volume of sound(with a daringly close resemblance to a well-known church chant)--"Youare f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d man." Then the Chair said, "Signature,'Archibald Wilcox.'" And so on, and so on, name after name, andeverybody had an increasingly and gloriously good time except thewretched Nineteen. Now and then, when a particularly shining name wascalled, the house made the Chair wait while it chanted the whole of thetest-remark from the beginning to the closing words, "And go to hellor Hadleyburg--try and make it the for-or-m-e-r!" and in these specialcases they added a grand and agonised and imposing "A-a-a-a-MEN!"

  The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping tallyof the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was pronounced, andwaiting in miserable suspense for the time to come when it would be hishumiliating privilege to rise with Mary and finish his plea, which hewas intending to word thus: "... for until now we have never done anywrong thing, but have gone our humble way unreproached. We are verypoor, we are old, and, have no chick nor child to help us; we weresorely tempted, and we fell. It was my purpose when I got up beforeto make confession and beg that my name might not be read out in thispublic place, for it seemed to us that we could not bear it; but I wasprevented. It was just; it was our place to suffer with the rest. It hasbeen hard for us. It is the first time we have ever heard our name fallfrom any one's lips--sullied. Be merciful--for the sake or the betterdays; make our shame as light to bear as in your charity you can." Atthis point in his reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind wasabsent. The house was chanting, "You are f-a-r," etc.

  "Be ready," Mary whispered. "Your name comes now; he has read eighteen."

  The chant ended.

  "Next! next! next!" came volleying from all over the house.

  Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, beganto rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said:

  "I find I have read them all."

  Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and Marywhispered:

  "Oh, bless God, we are saved!--he has lost ours--I wouldn't give thisfor a hundred of those sacks!"

  The house burst out with its "Mikado" travesty, and sang it three timeswith ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when it reached forthe third time the closing line--

  "But the Symbols are here, you bet!"

  and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for "Hadleyburg purity and oureighteen immortal representatives of it."

  Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers "for the cleanestman in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who didn't try tosteal that money--Edward Richards."

  They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody proposedthat "Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the now SacredHadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up and look thewhole sarcastic world in the face."

  Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the "Mikado" again, and ended itwith--

  "And there's ONE Symbol left, you bet!"

  There was a pause; then--

  A Voice. "Now, then, who's to get the sack?"

  The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). "That's easy. The money has to bedivided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. They gave the sufferingstranger twenty dollars apiece--and that remark--each in his turn--ittook twenty-two minutes for the procession to move past. Staked thestranger--total contribution, $360. All they want is just the loanback--and interest--forty thousand dollars altogether."

  Many Voices (derisively.) "That's it! Divvy! divvy! Be kind to thepoor--don't keep them waiting!"

  The Chair. "Order! I now offer the stranger's remaining document. Itsays: 'If no claimant shall appear (grand chorus of groans), I desirethat you open the sack and count out the money to the principal citizensof your town, they to take it in trust (Cries of "Oh! Oh! Oh!"), anduse it in such ways as to them shall seem best for the propagation andpreservation of your community's noble reputation for incorruptiblehonesty (more cries)--a reputation to which their names and theirefforts will add a new and far-reaching lustre." (Enthusiastic outburstof sarcastic applause.) That seems to be all. No--here is a postscript:

  "'P.S.--CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There IS no test-remark--nobody madeone. (Great sensation.) There wasn't any pauper stranger, nor anytwenty-dollar contribution, nor any accompanying benediction andcompliment--these are all inventions. (General buzz and hum ofastonishment and delight.) Allow me to tell my story--it will take but aword or two. I passed through your town at a certain time, and receiveda deep offence which I had not earned. Any other man would have beencontent to kill one or two of you and call it square, but to me thatwould have been a trivial revenge, and inadequate; for the dead do notSUFFER. Besides I could not kill you all--and, anyway, made as I am,even that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to damage every man inthe place, and every woman--and not in their bodies or in their estate,but in their vanity--the place where feeble and foolish people are mostvulnerable. So I disguised myself and came back and studied you. Youwere easy game. You had an old and lofty reputation for honesty, andnaturally you were proud of it--it was your treasure of treasures, thevery apple of your eye. As soon as I found out that you carefully andvigilantly kept yourselves and your children OUT OF TEMPTATION, I knewhow to proceed. Why, you simple creatures, the weakest of all weakthings is a virtue which has not been tested in the fire. I laid a plan,and gathered a list of names. My project was to corrupt Hadleyburg theIncorruptible. My idea was to make liars and thieves of nearly half ahundred smirchless men and women who had never in their lives uttered alie or stolen a penny. I was afraid of Goodson. He was neither bornnor reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid that if I started to operatemy scheme by getting my letter laid before you, you would say toyourselves, 'Goodson is the only man among us who would give away twentydollars to a poor devil'--and then you might not bite at my bait. Butheaven took Goodson; then I knew I was safe, and I set my trap andbaited it. It may be that I shall not catch all the men to whom I mailedthe pretended test-secret, but I shall catch the most of them, if I knowHadleyburg nature. (Voices. "Right--he got every last one of them.") Ibelieve they will even steal ostensible GAMBLE-money, rather than miss,poor, tempted, and mistrained fellows. I am hoping to eternally andeverlastingly squelch your vanity and give Hadleyburg a new renown--onethat will STICK--and spread far. If I have succeeded, open the sack andsummon the Committee on Propagation and Preservation of the HadleyburgReputation.'"

  A Cyclone of Voices. "Open it! Open it! The Eighteen to the front!Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! Forward--the Incorruptibles!"

  The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright,broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them.

  "Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!"

  There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when thenoise had subsided, the tanner called out:

  "By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson is Chairmanof the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. I suggest that he stepforward on behalf of his pals, and receive in trust the money."

  A Hundred Voices. "Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!"

  Wilson (in a voice trembling with anger). "You will allow me to say, andwithout apologies for my language, DAMN the money!"

  A Voice. "Oh, and him a Baptist!"

  A Voice. "Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, and assume yourtrust!"

  There was a pause--no response.

  The Saddler. "Mr. Chairman, we've got ONE clean man left, anyway, out ofthe late aristocracy; and he needs money, and deserves it. I move thatyou appoint Jack Halliday to get up there and auction off that sack ofgilt twenty-dollar pieces, and give the result to the right man--the manwhom Hadleyburg delights to honour--Edward Richards."

  This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand again;the saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum'srepresentative fought hard for it, the people cheered every jump thatthe bids made, the excitement climb
ed moment by moment higher andhigher, the bidders got on their mettle and grew steadily more and moredaring, more and more determined, the jumps went from a dollar up tofive, then to ten, then to twenty, then fifty, then to a hundred, then--

  At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress tohis wife: "Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It--it--you see, it is anhonour--reward, a testimonial to purity of character, and--and--canwe allow it? Hadn't I better get up and--Oh, Mary, what ought weto do?--what do you think we--" (Halliday's voice. "Fifteen I'mbid!--fifteen for the sack!--twenty!--ah, thanks!--thirty--thanks again!Thirty, thirty, thirty!--do I hear forty?--forty it is! Keep theball rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!--fifty!--thanks, nobleRoman!--going at fifty, fifty, fifty!--seventy!--ninety!--splendid!--ahundred!--pile it up, pile it up!--hundred and twenty--forty!--justin time!--hundred and fifty!--Two hundred!--superb! Do I hear twoh--thanks!--two hundred and fifty!--")

  "It is another temptation, Edward--I'm all in a tremble--but, oh, we'veescaped one temptation, and that ought to warn us, to--("Six did Ihear?--thanks!--six fifty, six f--SEVEN hundred!") And yet, Edward,when you think--nobody susp--("Eight hundred dollars!--hurrah!--make itnine!--Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say--thanks!--nine!--this noblesack of virgin lead going at only nine hundred dollars, gilding andall--come! do I hear--a thousand!--gratefully yours!--did some one sayeleven?--a sack which is going to be the most celebrated in the wholeUni--") Oh, Edward (beginning to sob), we are so poor!--but--but--do asyou think best--do as you think best."

  Edward fell--that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which was notsatisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances.

  Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten up asan impossible English earl, had been watching the evening's proceedingswith manifest interest, and with a contented expression in his face; andhe had been privately commenting to himself. He was now soliloquisingsomewhat like this: 'None of the Eighteen are bidding; that is notsatisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic unities require it; theymust buy the sack they tried to steal; they must pay a heavy price,too--some of them are rich. And another thing, when I make a mistake inHadleyburg nature the man that puts that error upon me is entitled toa high honorarium, and some one must pay. This poor old Richards hasbrought my judgment to shame; he is an honest man:--I don't understandit, but I acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces--AND with a straightflush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be a jack-pot, too, ifI can manage it. He disappointed me, but let that pass.'

  He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the pricestumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One competitor droppedout; then another, and another. He put in a bid or two now. When thebids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; some one raised him athree; he waited a moment, then flung in a fifty-dollar jump, and thesack was his--at $1,282. The house broke out in cheers--then stopped;for he was on his feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to speak.

  "I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator inrarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics allover the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as it stands;but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I can make everyone of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its face in gold, andperhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will give part of my gainsto your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable probity you have so justlyand so cordially recognised tonight; his share shall be ten thousanddollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. (Great applause fromthe house. But the "invulnerable probity" made the Richardses blushprettily; however, it went for modesty, and did no harm.) If you willpass my proposition by a good majority--I would like a two-thirdsvote--I will regard that as the town's consent, and that is all I ask.Rarities are always helped by any device which will rouse curiosity andcompel remark. Now if I may have your permission to stamp upon the facesof each of these ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemenwho--"

  Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog andall--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approvingapplause and laughter.

  They sat down, and all the Symbols except "Dr." Clay Harkness got up,violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and threatening to--

  "I beg you not to threaten me," said the stranger calmly. "I know mylegal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at bluster."(Applause.) He sat down. "Dr." Harkness saw an opportunity here. He wasone of the two very rich men of the place, and Pinkerton was the other.Harkness was proprietor of a mint; that is to say, a popular patentmedicine. He was running for the Legislature on one ticket, andPinkerton on the other. It was a close race and a hot one, and gettinghotter every day. Both had strong appetites for money; each had boughta great tract of land, with a purpose; there was going to be a newrailway, and each wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate theroute to his own advantage; a single vote might make the decision, andwith it two or three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was adaring speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned overwhile one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the housewith protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper,

  "What is your price for the sack?"

  "Forty thousand dollars."

  "I'll give you twenty."

  "No."

  "Twenty-five."

  "No."

  "Say thirty."

  "The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less."

  "All right, I'll give it. I will come to the hotel at ten in themorning. I don't want it known; will see you privately."

  "Very good." Then the stranger got up and said to the house:

  "I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are not without merit,not without interest, not without grace; yet if I may be excused I willtake my leave. I thank you for the great favour which you have shown mein granting my petition. I ask the Chair to keep the sack for me untilto-morrow, and to hand these three five-hundred-dollar notes to Mr.Richards." They were passed up to the Chair.

  "At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver the restof the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. Good-night."

  Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, whichwas composed of a mixture of cheers, the "Mikado" song, dog-disapproval,and the chant, "You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d man--a-a-a a-men!"