Filling his cob pipe with cut-plug, Joe sat looking away over space
toward our hobbled horses and then said:
"Old man, I reckon you remember all about the Black Prince robbery. I
don't forget you were the first man that came to the cooler to see me
while I was doing time as a _suspect_. Well, coming right down to the
point, _I had the dust all the time_! and the working out of the mystery
would be rather interesting reading if it was written up, and, as you
are such an accomplished liar, I wouldn't be surprised if you made it
the base-line of one of them yarns of yourn--only, mind you, don't go
too far with it, for it's as curious as a lie itself. I would not try to
improve on it, if I was you. I'll tell it to you as it was.
"About four days before the robbery, I was introduced to Rachel
Rokesby, daughter of one of the partners in the Black Prince. I met her,
in what seemed to be a casual way, at Mother Cameron's hash-foundry, but
I found out, a long time afterward, that she had worked for two weeks to
bring about the introduction.
"I don't know as you remember seeing her, but she was a quiet, retiring,
well-educated, rosy-cheeked English girl--impressed you right away as
being the pure, unrefined article, about twenty-two karat.
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