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Early in November he went to his bank and drew from deposit two hundred and fifty dollars.... Then he went to call on Bones. "Mr. Bones," he said, "folks says old Clayt Mosier's a client of your'n." "He's given me some business, Mr. Baines." "Uh-huh!... Somethin' to do with title to a piece of timber over Higgins's Bridge way, wa'n't it?" "I'm sorry, Mr. Baines, but I guess you'll have to ask Mr.
He forced the struggling young man back into his chair, and released him grinning broadly, and not at all as a tempter should grin. "If it'll relieve your conscience," he said, "I hain't got no more int'rest in Mosier's affairs than I have in the emperor of the heathen Chinee.... But I have got a heap of int'rest in a young feller that kin refuse a wad of money when he can't pay his board bill.
A slight perspiration was noticeable on young Lawyer Bones's brow. "Information," said Scattergood, looking him in the eye. As the young man did not speak, Scattergood continued, "about Mosier's title matter."
Mosier was the veriest Munchausen, and nobody in Rome thought of crediting his stories. But Mosier's statement shows on its face signs of internal weakness. When he says that Count D'Ossoli in attempting to model a foot placed the big-toe on the wrong side, he states what is altogether incredible, and discloses his own splenetic humor.
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