"Why, Solomon?"
"Why?--they are absolutely useless. It was a waste of good money
that you'll be sorry about."
"Bless you, Solomon--they ain't paid for!" said the judge, with a
thick little chuckle.
"I didn't do you the injustice to suppose they were; but you
haven't any head for business; aren't you just that much nearer
the time when not a soul here will trust you? That's just like
you, to plunge ahead and use up your credit on gimcracks!"
Mahaffy prided himself on his acquaintance with the basic
principles of economics.
"I can sell 'em again," observed the judge placidly.
"For less than half what they are worth!--I never knew so poor a
manager!"
The pistols were soon loaded, and the judge turned to Hannibal.
"I regretted that you were not with me out at Boggs' this
evening, Hannibal; you would have enjoyed seeing me try these
weapons there. Now carry a candle into the kitchen and place it
on the table."
Mahaffy laughed contemptuously, but was relieved to know the
purpose to which the judge had devoted the afternoon.
"What aspersion is rankling for utterance within you now,
Solomon?" said the judge tolerantly. Assuming a position that
gave him an unobstructed view across the two rooms, he raised the
pistol in his hand and discharged it in that brief instant when
he caught the candle's flame between the notches of the sight,
but he failed to snuff the candle, and a look of bitter
disappointment passed over his face.
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