I here inquired what they accused me of.

He continued, “Of being treacherous to one of the brotherhood, of which my brother is a member.”

“I never knew before that such a society existed,” said I.

“They accuse you of three different crimes.  You know whether there is any foundation for the charges.  First, that you agreed to swear against Taylor; then, after the spurious money was placed in your hands, you gave the facts to Taylor’s lawyer, and that your evidence will now be used in his favour.  If such is the case, I advise you to abandon such a purpose, for you will certainly lose your life if you persist in this thing.”

I denied to him any such intention.

“Well,” said he, “what have you done then with those five one-hundred-dollar notes given you by one of the assistant attorneys of my brother?”

I replied, “They are in my chest.”

“If such is the case, it will make every thing satisfactory in that matter.”

I now left, and went to Mr. Munger, and related the substance of my late interview.  He handed me the notes that I might make good my declaration.  I took them immediately to the hospital.  When I entered I found two merchants, who resided at Memphis, in close conversation with the colonel.  He told me to call again at two o’clock.  About that time, I returned.  The visitors were gone, but the colonel appeared much distressed.  Some new event must have added to his former anxiety.

“I wish you,” said he, “to bring those notes and let me see them.”

Having them in my pocket, I presented them to him.

“I am glad you have them.  You have been strongly suspected of foul play—­of giving them into the hands of the defendant.”

I was well convinced from this, that it was one of the clan who had rummaged my trunk and pockets a few days previous.  I then asked him, what else they had laid to my charge?

He replied:  “A man by the name of Sandford gave information to my brother, that a certain amount of money had been hidden by him.  Sandford died, and gave the money to my brother, and gave directions where he could find it.  My brother prepared a note for his wife, and told her where she could find the money, and my brother reached the note to the wrong person.” [See gambling unmasked.] “Some person told him you were the receiver; that they had seen you take the note.”

I knew, however, that no one had seen me take it, that the whole was a mere conjecture—­a plan to worm a confession out of me.  Hence I denied it stoutly.

“I do not believe it myself,” affirmed the colonel, “but the whole clan, remember, dislike you; among others, a negro trader, by the name of Goodrich.  He has marked you out as a transgressor, and is determined to put you out of the way.”  I have mentioned this same Goodrich, once before.  He is well known as one accustomed to sell runaway negroes, as a kidnapper, who lives with a wench, and has several mulatto children, and probably does a profitable business in selling his own offspring.