dusky—may be trusted, and with the untold gold!
Mr J. (jealously). And I am not to be trusted! If you were to hand me your portemonnaie now, full of notes and gold, and let me walk into the street with it, do you doubt that I should return? Speak, Tomkins!
Mr T. Assuredly not; but so, too, would this gentleman. (To me, as Mr Johnson sneered a doubt.) Here, you. Sir, take this portemonnaie out into the street for five minutes or so, I trust to your honour to return it intact. (After I had emerged triumphantly from this severe ordeal of my bonâ fide.) Aha, Johnson! am I the judge of men or not?
Mr J. (still seeking, as I could see, to undermine me in his friend's favour). Pish! Who would steal a paltry £50 and lose £1000? If I had so much to give away, I should wish to be sure that the party I was about to endow had corresponding confidence in me. Now, though I have always considered you as a dull, I know you to be strictly honest, and would trust you with all I possess. In proof of which, take these two golden sovereigns and few shillings outside. Stay away as long as you desire. You will return, I know you well!
Myself (penetrating this shallow artifice, and hoisting the engine-driver on his own petard.) Who would not risk a paltry £2 to gain £1000? Oh, a magnificent confidence, truly!
