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"The Wrong Box"


'Why do you laugh, you fool?' cried his cousin, 'you lose more than I.
You've bungled it worse than even I did. If you had a spark of feeling,
you would be shaking in your boots with vexation. But I'll tell you one
thing--I'll have that eight hundred pound--I'll have that and go to Swan
River--that's mine, anyway, and your friend must have forged to cash it.
Give me the eight hundred, here, upon this platform, or I go straight to
Scotland Yard and turn the whole disreputable story inside out.'
'Morris,' said Michael, laying his hand upon his shoulder, 'hear reason.
It wasn't us, it was the other man. We never even searched the body.'
'The other man?' repeated Morris.
'Yes, the other man. We palmed Uncle Joseph off upon another man,' said
Michael.
'You what? You palmed him off? That's surely a singular expression,'
said Morris.
'Yes, palmed him off for a piano,' said Michael with perfect simplicity.
'Remarkably full, rich tone,' he added.
Morris carried his hand to his brow and looked at it; it was wet with
sweat. 'Fever,' said he.
'No, it was a Broadwood grand,' said Michael.


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