The lawyer took one or two short turns, and Dodge eyed the door. Turning abruptly, the lawyer asked,
"Were you ever at Dodge's station?"
"Yes."
"You know your road there?"
"I think I might find it."
"Well, then," said the lawyer, "you shall hear no more of this joke of your's (by the bye, it is a transportable one you know), provided you'll do me a little service.—Mr. Smith," he said, turning to his clerk, "you are aware that this man has confessed that he came here to personate Giles Dodge, and intending to obtain money under false pretences?" As if Dodge's previous confession was not clear enough, he stammered out, despondingly, "I did—but only in a joke though." "A jury would show you" the lawyer remarked, "where the point of it lay,—but enough of this: do you consent to help and arrest Giles Dodge or not?"
"I hope he has not been doing wrong," said Dodge,—"not branding another man's cattle, nor anything of that kind, has he?"
"Never mind what he has been doing: I rather think we shall do him yet," he said, rubbing his hands violently.
"I rather think not," Dodge said—to himself.
The lawyer left his office for a minute, laying the writ on his desk. During his absence Dodge satisfied himself it was intended for him, and substituted for it another which was at hand. He had scarcely done so, and was nearly choking with laughter, when the lawyer returned. Seeing Dodge's face red, he said, "You have been drinking: I see you have—you had better be careful what you are about, or you will wear the ruffles yet—you are quite aware you are in my power." Of course
