Mr. Young, will you be kind enough to tell
this gentleman who I am?"
"Parson Barnes, of Hayfield Centre," said the youth, confidently.
"You have heard me preach, have you not, in Plainfield?"
"Yes," said the young man, fully believing that he was telling the
truth.
"And I have called on your parents?"
"Yes."
"I think," said the adventurer, "that will be sufficient to convince you
that I am what I appear."
It was hard to doubt, in the face of such evidence. Ephraim Young was so
unmistakably from the rural districts that it would have been absurd to
suspect him of being an artful city rogue. Besides, Mr. Barnes himself
was got up so naturally that all the clerk's doubts vanished at once. He
concluded that the customer who had questioned his genuineness must be
very much mistaken.
"I ought to apologize to you, sir," he said, "for doubting your word.
But in a city like this you know one has to be very careful."
"Of course," said the adventurer, blandly, "I do not blame you in the
least. You only did your duty, though it might have cost me some trouble
and inconvenience."
"I am sorry, sir."
"No apologies, I beg. It has all turned out right, and your mistake
was a natural one. If you will kindly return me the ring, I will defer
selling it, I think, till another day."
The clerk brought the ring, which he handed back to Mr.
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