Clearly something was wrong--but what--what?
"Ain't he bold ?" it was a woman's voice this time, and the fat landlady, her curls awry and her plump breast heaving tumultuously, gained a place in the forefront of the crowd.
"Dear madam, this is an unexpected pleasure!" said the judge, with his hand upon his heart.
"Don't you make your wicked old sheep's eyes at me, you brazen thing!" cried the lady.
"You're wanted," said the sheriff grimly, still keeping his hand on the judge's shoulder.
"For what ?" demanded the judge thickly.

The sheriff had no time in which to answer.
"I want my money!" shrieked the landlady.
"Your money--Mrs.Walker, you amaze me!" The judge drew himself up haughtily, in genuine astonishment.
"I want my money!" repeated Mrs.Walker in even more piercing tones.
"I am not aware that I owe you anything, madam.

Thank God, I hold your receipted bill of recent date," answered the judge with chilling dignity.
"Good money--not this worthless trash!" she shook a bill under his nose.
The judge recognized it as the one of which he had despoiled Hannibal.
"You have been catched passing counterfeit," said the sheriff.

A light broke on the judge, a light that dazzled and stunned.

An officious and impatient gentleman tossed a looped end of the well-rope about his neck and the crowd yelled excitedly.