There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went on; everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were scribbling 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 a mistake somewhere, but surely that is all.  If Mr. Wilson gave me an envelope—­and I remember now that he did—­I still have it.”

He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked surprised and worried, and stood silent a few moments.  Then he waved his hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two to say something, 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 are far from being a bad man. [The house gazed at him marvelling.] Go, and reform."’ [Murmurs:  “Amazing! what can this mean?”] This one,” said the Chair, “is signed Thurlow G. Wilson.”

“There!” cried Wilson, “I reckon that settles it!  I knew perfectly well my note was purloined.”

“Purloined!” retorted Billson.  “I’ll let you know that neither you nor any 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 house was profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious emergency.  Presently Thompson got up.  Thompson was the hatter.  He would have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his stock of hats was not considerable enough for the position.  He said: 

“Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both of these gentlemen be right?  I put it to you, sir, can both have happened to 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 get recognition.  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 hundred years—­but not the other thing. Neither of them gave the twenty dollars!” [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 the notes 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 men has been eavesdropping under the other one’s bed, and filching family secrets.  If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will remark that both are equal to it. [The Chair.  “Order! order!”] I withdraw the remark, sir, and will confine myself to suggesting that if one of them has overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we shall catch him now.”