Is not the laborer worthy of his hire? But go on,
sir--your tale is interesting."
"Tale, general? It is the truth--on the word of Swartz!"
"I no longer doubt now, if I did before," said Mohun; "but tell me the
end of your adventure."
"I can do that in a few words, general. I whipped up my old mule, and
went on through the woods, thinking what I had best do with the man and
the woman I had saved, I could take them to Petersburg, and tell my
story to the mayor or some good citizen, who would see that they were
taken care of. But as soon as I said 'mayor' to myself, I thought 'he
is the chief of police.' _Police_!--that is one of the ugliest words in
the language, general! Some people shiver, and their flesh crawls, when
you cut a cork, or scratch on a window pane--well, it is strange, but I
have always felt in that way when I heard, or thought of, the word,
_police_! And here I was going to have dealings with the said _police_!
I was going to say 'I found these people on the Nottoway--one half-
drowned, and the other in a newly dug grave!' No, I thank you! We never
know what our characters will stand, and I was by no means certain that
mine would stand that! Then the reward--I wished to have my lady and
gentleman under my eye. So, after thinking over the matter for some
miles, I determined to leave them with a crony of mine near Monk's
Neck, named Alibi, who would take care of them and say nothing.
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