.

For several moments there was a magnificent attempt at silence, but it
utterly failed. The boys saw that the deacon and Tom were working a very
large claim, and to the best of their ability they assisted.

Stumpy Flukes, under the friendly shelter of the bar, was able to fully
express his feelings through his eyelids, but the remainder of the
party, by taking turns at staring out the windows, and contemplating the
bottles behind the bar, managed to delude themselves into the belief
that their eyes were invisible. Finally, Tom arose. "Deacon--boys," he
said, "I never got that letter. I wus afeard she'd hear about my scrape,
so I wrote her all about it, ez soon ez I got sober, an' begged her to
forgive me. An' I waited an' hoped an' prayed for an answer, till I
growed desperate; an' came out here."

"She never heerd from you, Thomas," sighed the deacon.

"Deac'n," said Tom, "do you s'pose I'd hev kerried this for years"--here
he drew out a small miniature of his wife--"ef I hadn't loved her? Yes,
an' this too," continued Tom, producing a thin package, wrapped in
oilskin. "There's the only two letters I ever got from her, an', just
cos her hand writ 'em, I've had 'em just where I took 'em from for four
years. I got 'em at Albany, 'fore I got on that cussed tare, an' they
was both so sweet an' wifely, that I've never dared to read 'em since,
fur fear that thinkin' on what I'd lost would make me even wuss than I
am. But I ain't afeard now," said Tom, eagerly tearing off the oilskin,
and disclosing two envelopes.

He opened one, took out the letter, opened it with trembling hands,
stared blankly at it, and handed it to the deacon.

"Thar's my letter now--I got 'em in the wrong envelope!"

"Thomas," said the deacon, "the best thing you can do is to deliver that
letter yourself. An' don't let any grass grow under your feet, ef you
ken help it."

"I'm goin' by the first hoss I ken steal," said Tom.

"An' tell her I'll be along ez soon as I pan out enough," continued the
deacon.

"An' tell her," said Boston Ben, "that the gov'nor won't be much behind
you. Tell her that when the crowd found out how game the old man was,
and what was on his mind, that the court was so ashamed of hisself that
he passed around the hat for Pet's benefit, and"--here Boston Ben
thoughtfully weighed the hat in his hands--"and that the apology's heavy
enough to do Europe a dozen times; I know it, for I've had to travel
myself occasionally."