He opened his eyes, feebly stared, and still more, feebly said—
"It's a little dim here, ain't it? Ugh. ugh! But, as well as my poor old eyes can see, you look honest."
"I am glad to hear that."
"If—if, now, I should put"—trying to raise himself, but vainly, excitement having all but exhausted him—"if, if now, I should put, put—"
"No ifs. Downright confidence, or none. So help me heaven, I will have no half-confidences."
He said it with an indifferent and superior air, and seemed moving to go.
"Don't, don't leave me, friend; bear with me; age can't help some distrust; it can't, friend, it can't. Ugh, ugh, ugh! Oh, I am so old and miserable. I ought to have a guardeean. Tell me, if—"
"If? No more!"
"Stay! how soon—ugh, ugh!—would my money be trebled? How soon, friend?"
"You won't confide. Good-bye!"
"Stay, stay," falling back now like an infant, "I confide, I confide; help, friend, my distrust!"
From an old buckskin pouch, tremulously dragged forth, ten hoarded eagles, tarnished into the appearance of ten old horn-buttons, were taken, and half-eagerly, half-reluctantly, offered.
"I know not whether I should accept this slack confidence," said the other coldly, receiving the gold, "but an eleventh-hour confidence, a sick-bed confidence, a
