“Come, come! I’m feelin’ uncomf’table enough about it, a’ready!” said the squire. “But there’s a possibility, yet, that it may be good money. Can’t tell. I should do jest so agin, under the sarcumstances, most likely. Any way it’s better to have it in my possession, than to leave bad boys to carry it off and pass it, as they undoubtedly would. I don’t want it to make trouble ’twixt me and my neighbors, though; and, Byron, if you are going over to the deacon’s, you might see what he has to say about it; tell him it’s counterfeit, and that I thought so—kind o’ thought so—all along, but considered it my duty—you understand?”