“Perhaps five thousand,” said Mr. Lynde, carelessly, speaking for me. He added, “We’re somewhat like Judge Doe and his bail proposition--only we subtract, while, as you’ll remember, he worked in addition.” No agreement was arrived at, and so another twelvemonth passed. Then Bellows’s counsel came to the front again and made Mr. Lynde an offer to accept my last figure. I smile as I recall the sympathetic tone my counsel adopted in replying to Bellows’s man: “Oh, really, I’m so sorry, but you know that five thousand dollar proposition of ours is outlawed--quite outlawed--in fact, a back number.” The prolonged negotiations had brought the case to a point where Bellows was no longer nibbling at the golden bait,--he was attempting to swallow it whole, now that there appeared to be danger of it vanishing forever. “We’re open to a proposition,” said his attorney, feebly. “It’s time the matter was closed up.” Mr. Lynde and I had grown weary of the subject months before, and decided that we would administer the other side a sample of its own medicine. Mr. Lynde said, unenthusiastically, “So far as I’m concerned, I can’t say that my client, at this late day, will pay a single cent. At one time he decided to offer you ten thousand, but that was thrown in his teeth. Then he offered to pay five thousand, but that proposition Mr. Bellows declined. How he feels now I have no idea, and will not know unless I write to him.” “Suppose you let him know of our offer at once,” said the attorney. “I’ll see what I can do,” answered Mr. Lynde, in a hopeless way; “but I tell you I don’t believe he’ll pay Bellows five thousand now.” The proposition was laid before me, but it was not until another year had nearly gone by that I indicated any desire to act. The backing and filling had disgusted me in the extreme. I’d made up my mind not to discuss the subject again until there was a plain indication from Bellows that he was ready to come to the point. But I had no reason to complain at the next negotiation, for he was willing enough to take my money. His attorney called on Mr. Lynde, and a meeting was arranged in New York, between an attorney named Pritchard, a New York friend of Bellows, and my representative Frank Houghtaling, a clerk in Jefferson Market Police Court, who had served Shinburn and me so well up in Steuben County, where we had our little adventure with Sheriff Smith. As the result of the first meeting there was a second, which took place at Delmonico’s. Bellows was present and so was I. Amid a plentiful flow of wine, Houghtaling handed Bellows three thousand dollars, and the indictment was handed me. That document was destroyed. Thus, after three years, was I given a clean bill of health in New Hampshire.