He replied: "A man by the name of Sandford gave information to my
brother, that a certain amount of money had been hidden by him. Sandford
died, and gave the money to my brother, and gave directions where he
could find it. My brother prepared a note for his wife, and told her
where she could find the money, and my brother reached the note to the
wrong person." [See GAMBLING UNMASKED.] "Some person told him you were
the receiver; that they had seen you take the note."

I knew, however, that no one had seen me take it, that the whole was a
mere conjecture--a plan to worm a confession out of me. Hence I denied
it stoutly.

"I do not believe it myself," affirmed the colonel, "but the whole clan,
remember, dislike you; among others, a negro trader, by the name of
Goodrich. He has marked you out as a transgressor, and is determined to
put you out of the way." I have mentioned this same Goodrich, once
before. He is well known as one accustomed to sell runaway negroes, as a
kidnapper, who lives with a wench, and has several mulatto children, and
probably does a profitable business in selling his own offspring.

I replied, "I do not know Goodrich, and know as little about Sandford's
money."

"Well, Green, I believe you are innocent of the two first accusations,
and hope you may be of the third."

But now came the "tug of war." These others were only a preparatory step
for a fearful inquisition. I knew what was coming, and mustered all my
fortitude to meet the exigency. If ever there was a time when I was
called upon to summon my collected energies, to express calmness and