Replying, in
stammering and dazed fashion, to further questions, he gave it to be
understood that nobody had ever set eyes on the coin in question; he
was afraid of showing it, lest someone should take it from him by
force. He loved the coin. He got it from his mother.
"Ah!" said the friendly policeman. "And your mother, now--could she
perhaps tell us when she gave it to you?"
"My mother is in Paradise."
"Dead, is she? H'm. That looks queer, my young friend. Very fishy. You
should be more careful in little things like that. She ought to have
been kept alive, you know. Anybody can say they had gold coins given
them by dead mothers, don't you see? Rather a thin trick. Can't you
suggest something better? Cheer up, boy! You needn't tremble all over.
Look, I am writing it down, and you must put your name to it
afterwards. Think--little. A living uncle, for instance--if he came into
Court and testified that he had given you the coin, why, it might make
all the difference and get you out of a nasty scrape.
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