He then took courage and
advanced once more, and examined it carefully, and rubbed it, but it
did not remove it.
"He has burned it into the skin," I said, "he hath made thee the image
of the horse-stealer, and who knoweth whom else thou resemblest. Thee
art a marked man verily. Thee said thee never used disguises."
"Never," he said, "never, Mr Slick."
"Hush," I said, "thee hast worn three disguises. First, thee wore the
disguise of religion; secondly, thee were disguised in liquor; and
thirdly, thee art now disguised with what fighting men call the
moustachio."
"Oh, Mr Slick," said he, leaving off his cant, and really looking like
a different man, "dod drot it, it is a just punishment. I knock under,
I holler, I give in, have mercy on me. Can you rid me of this horrid
mark, for I can't flunk out in the street in this rig."
"I can," sais I, "but I will do it on one condition only, and that is,
that you give over canting that way, and coverin' tricks with long
faces and things too serious to mention now, for that is doubly
wicked. Cheatin' ain't pretty at no time, though I wouldn't be too
hard on a man for only gettin' hold of the right eend of the rope in a
bargain. I have done it myself. Or puttin' the leak into a consaited
critter sometimes for fun. But to cheat, and cant to help you a doin'
of it, is horrid, that's a fact. It's the very devil.
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