"Are his great-grand-children still living?" said Washington, with levity only in the words, not in the tone.
"Well, I don't know—I hadn't thought of that—but anyway they can't make trunks and saddle-bags like that, if they are—no man can," said the Colonel with honest simplicity. "Wife didn't like to see me going off with that trunk—she said it was nearly certain to be stolen."
"Why?"
"Why? Why, aren't trunks always being stolen?"
"Well, yes—some kinds of trunks are."
"Very well, then; this is some kind of a trunk—and an almighty rare kind, too."
"Yes, I believe it is."
"Well, then, why shouldn't a man want to steal it if he got a chance?"
"Indeed I don't know.—Why should he?"
"Washington, I never heard anybody talk like you. Suppose you were a thief, and that trunk was lying around and nobody watching—wouldn't you steal it? Come, now, answer fair—wouldn't you steal it?"
"Well, now, since you corner me, I don't know but I would take it, but I wouldn't consider it stealing."
"You wouldn't! Well, that beats me. Now what would you call stealing?"
"Why, taking property is stealing."
"Property! Now what a way to talk that is. What do you suppose that trunk is worth?"
"Is it in good repair?"
"Perfect. Hair rubbed off a little, but the main structure is perfectly sound."
"Does it leak anywhere?"
"Leak? Do you want to carry water in it? What do you mean by does it leak?"
"Why—a—do the clothes fall out of it when it is when—when it is stationary?"
"Confound it, Washington, you are trying to make fun of
