'He meant it for A, so I told him it was.
'"My brother," he says to the Indian. "I think this is the hand
of Providence! I warned that Gert if he went to play upon the
wharves any more he would hear from me. Now look at this boy
and say what you think."
'The Indian looked me over whole minutes - there was a
musical clock on the wall and dolls came out and hopped while
the hour struck. He looked me over all the while they did it.
'"Good," he says at last. "This boy is good."
'"Good, then," says Toby. "Now I shall play my fiddle and
you shall sing your hymn, brother. Boy, go down to the bakery
and tell them you are young Gert Schwankfelder that was. The
horses are in Davy jones's locker. If you ask any questions you
shall hear from me."
'I left 'em singing hymns and I went down to old Conrad
Gerhard. He wasn't at all surprised when I told him I was young
Gert Schwankfelder that was. He knew Toby. His wife she
walked me into the back-yard without a word, and she washed
me and she cut my hair to the edge of a basin, and she put me to
bed, and oh! how I slept - how I slept in that little room behind the
oven looking on the flower garden! I didn't know Toby went to
the Embuscade that night and bought me off Dr Karaguen for
twelve dollars and a dozen bottles of Seneca Oil.
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