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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prodigal Judge, by Vaughan Kester
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Prodigal Judge
+
+Author: Vaughan Kester
+
+Release Date: February, 2004  [EBook #5129]
+Posting Date: May 2, 2009
+Last Updated: March 15, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRODIGAL JUDGE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Polly Stratton
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE PRODIGAL JUDGE BY VAUGHAN KESTER
+
+
+By Vaughan Kester
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE BOY AT THE BARONY
+
+
+The Quintards had not prospered on the barren lands of the pine woods
+whither they had emigrated to escape the malaria of the low coast, but
+this no longer mattered, for the last of his name and race, old General
+Quintard, was dead in the great house his father had built almost a
+century before and the thin acres of the Barony, where he had made his
+last stand against age and poverty, were to claim him, now that he had
+given up the struggle in their midst. The two or three old slaves about
+the place, stricken with a sense of the futility of the fight their
+master had made, mourned for him and for themselves, but of his own
+blood and class none was present.
+
+Shy dwellers from the pine woods, lanky jeans-clad men and sunbonneted
+women, who were gathering for the burial of the famous man of their
+neighborhood, grouped themselves about the lawn which had long since
+sunk to the uses of a pasture lot. Singly or by twos and threes they
+stole up the steps and across the wide porch to the open door. On the
+right of the long hall another door stood open, and who wished could
+enter the drawing-room, with its splendid green and gold paper, and the
+wonderful fireplace with the Dutch tiles that graphically depicted the
+story of Jonah and the whale.
+
+Here the general lay in state. The slaves had dressed their old master
+in the uniform he had worn as a colonel of the continental line, but the
+thin shoulders of the wasted figure no longer filled the buff and blue
+coat. The high-bred face, once proud and masterful no doubt, as became
+the face of a Quintard, spoke of more than age and poverty--it was
+infinitely sorrowful. Yet there was something harsh and unforgiving
+in the lines death had fixed there, which might have been taken as the
+visible impress of that mystery, the bitterness of which had misshaped
+the dead man's nature; but the resolute lips had closed for ever on
+their secret, and the broken spirit had gone perhaps to learn how poor a
+thing its pride had been.
+
+Though he had lived continuously at the Barony for almost a quarter of a
+century, there was none among his neighbors who could say he had looked
+on that thin, aquiline face in all that time. Yet they had known much
+of him, for the gossip of the slaves, who had been his only friends in
+those years he had chosen to deny himself to other friends, had gone far
+and wide over the county.
+
+That notable man of business, Jonathan Crenshaw--and this superiority
+was especially evident when the business chanced to be his own--was
+closeted in the library with a stranger to whom rumor fixed the name of
+Bladen, supposing him to be the legal representative of certain remote
+connections of the old general's.
+
+Crenshaw sat before the flat-topped mahogany desk in the center of the
+room with several well-thumbed account-books open before him. Bladen, in
+riding dress, stood by the window.
+
+“I suppose you will buy in the property when it comes up for sale?” the
+latter was saying.
+
+Mr. Crenshaw had already made it plain that General Quintard's creditors
+would have lean pickings at the Barony, intimating that he himself was
+the chiefest of these and the one to suffer most grievously in pocket.
+Further than this, Mr. Bladen saw that the old house was a ruin,
+scarcely habitable, and that the thin acres, though they were many and
+a royal grant, were of the slightest value. Crenshaw nodded his
+acquiescence to the lawyer's conjecture touching the ultimate fate of
+the Barony.
+
+“I reckon, sir, I'll want to protect myself, but if there are any of
+his own kin who have a fancy to the place I'll put no obstacle in their
+way.”
+
+“Who are the other creditors?” asked Bladen.
+
+“There ain't none, sir; they just got tired waiting on him, and when
+they began to sue and get judgment the old general would send me word
+to settle with them, and their claims passed into my hands. I was in too
+deep to draw out. But for the last ten years his dealings were all with
+me; I furnished the supplies for the place here. It didn't amount to
+much, as there was only him and the darkies, and the account ran on from
+year to year.”
+
+“He lived entirely alone, saw no one, I understand,” said Bladen.
+
+“Alone with his two or three old slaves--yes, sir. He wouldn't even see
+me; Joe, his old nigger, would fetch orders for this or that. Once or
+twice I rode out to see him, but I wa'n't even allowed inside that door;
+the message I got was that he couldn't be disturbed, and the last time
+I come he sent me word that if I annoyed him again he would be forced
+to terminate our business relations. That was pretty strong talk, wa'n't
+it, when you consider that I could have sold the roof from over his
+head and the land from under his feet? Oh, well, I just put it down to
+childishness.” There was a brief pause, then Crenshaw spoke again.
+“I reckon, sir, if you know anything about the old general's private
+affairs you don't feel no call to speak on that point?” he observed,
+and with evident regret. He had hoped that Bladen would clear up the
+mystery, for certainly it must have been some sinister tragedy that had
+cost the general his grip on life and for twenty years and more had made
+of him a recluse, so that the faces of his friends had become as the
+faces of strangers.
+
+“My dear sir, I know nothing of General Quintard's private, history. I
+am even unacquainted with my clients, who are distant cousins, but his
+nearest kin--they live in South Carolina. I was merely instructed
+to represent them in the event of his death and to look after their
+interests.”
+
+“That's business,” said Crenshaw, nodding.
+
+“All I know is this: General Quintard was a conspicuous man in these
+parts fifty years ago; that was before my time, Mr. Crenshaw, and I take
+it, too, it was before yours; he married a Beaufort.”
+
+“So he did,” said Crenshaw, “and there was one child, a daughter; she
+married a South Carolinian by the name of Turberville. I remember that,
+fo' they were married under the gallery in the hall. Great folks,
+those Turbervilles, rolling rich. My father was manager then fo' the
+general--that was nearly forty years ago. There was life here then, sir;
+the place was alive with niggers and the house full of guests from one
+month's end to another.” He drummed on the desktop. “Who'd a thought it
+wa'n't to last for ever!”
+
+“And what became of the daughter who married Turberville?”
+
+“Died years ago,” said Crenshaw. “She was here the last time about
+thirty years back. It wa'n't so easy to get about in those days, no
+roads to speak of and no stages, and besides, the old general wa'n't
+much here nohow; her going away had sort of broken up his home, I
+reckon. Then the place stood empty fo' a few years, most of the slaves
+were sold off, and the fields began to grow up. No one rightly knew, but
+the general was supposed to be traveling up yonder in the No'th, sir.
+As I say, things ran along this way quite a while, and then one morning
+when I went to my store my clerk says, 'There's an old white-headed
+nigger been waiting round here fo' a word with you, Mr. Crenshaw.' It
+was Joe, the general's body servant, and when I'd shook hands with him I
+said, 'When's the master expected back?' You see, I thought Joe had been
+sent on ahead to open the house, but he says, 'General Quintard's at the
+Barony now,' and then he says, 'The general's compliments, sir, and will
+you see that this order is filled?' Well, Mr. Bladen, I and my father
+had factored the Barony fo' fifteen years and upward, but that was the
+first time the supplies fo' the general's table had ever been toted here
+in a meal sack!
+
+“I rode out that very afternoon, but Joe, who was one of your mannerly
+niggers, met me at the door and says, 'Mr. Crenshaw, the general
+appreciates this courtesy, but regrets that he is unable to see you,
+sir.' After that it wa'n't long in getting about that the general was a
+changed man. Other folks came here to welcome him back and he refused to
+see them, but the reason of it we never learned. Joe, who probably knew,
+was one of your close niggers; there was, no getting anything out of
+him; you could talk with that darky by the hour, sir, and he left you
+feeling emptier than if he'd kept his mouth shut.”
+
+They were interrupted by a knock at the door.
+
+“Come in,” said Crenshaw, a trifle impatiently, and in response to his
+bidding the door opened and a small boy entered the room dragging after
+him a long rifle. Suddenly overcome by a speechless shyness, he paused
+on the threshold to stare with round, wondering eyes at the two men.
+“Well, sonny, what do you want?” asked Mr. Crenshaw indulgently.
+
+The boy opened his mouth, but his courage failed him, and with his
+courage went the words he would have spoken.
+
+“Who is this?” asked Bladen.
+
+“I'll tell, you presently,” said Crenshaw. “Come, speak up, sonny, what
+do you want?”
+
+“Please, sir, I want this here old spo'tin' rifle,” said: the child.
+“Please, sir, I want to keep it,” he added.
+
+“Well, you run along on out of here with your old spo'tin' rifle!” said
+Crenshaw good-naturedly.
+
+“Please, sir, am I to keep it?”
+
+“Yes, I reckon you may keep it--least I've no objection.” Crenshaw
+glanced at Bladen.
+
+“Oh, by all means,” said the latter. Spasms of delight shook the small
+figure, and with a murmur that was meant for thanks he backed from the
+room, closing the door. Bladen glanced inquiringly at Crenshaw.
+
+“You want to know about him, sir? Well, that's Hannibal Wayne Hazard.”
+
+“Hannibal Wayne Hazard?” repeated Bladen.
+
+“Yes, sir; the general was the authority on that point, but who Hannibal
+Wayne Hazard is and how he happens to be at the Barony is another
+mystery--just wait a minute, sir--” and quitting his chair Mr.
+Crenshaw hurried from the room to return almost immediately with a tall
+countryman. “Mr. Bladen, this is Bob Yancy. Bob, the gentleman, wants to
+hear about the woman and the child; that's your story.”
+
+“Howdy, sir,” said Mr. Yancy. He appeared to meditate on the mental
+effort that was required of him, then he took a long breath. “It was
+this a-ways--” he began with a soft drawl, and then paused. “You give me
+the dates, Mr. John, fo' I disremember.”
+
+“It was four year ago come next Christmas,” said Crenshaw.
+
+“Old Christmas,” corrected Mr. Yancy. “Our folks always kept the old
+Christmas like it was befo' they done mussed up the calendar. I'm agin
+all changes,” added Mr. Yancy.
+
+“He means the fo'teenth of December,” explained Mr. Crenshaw.
+
+“Not wishin' to dispute your word, Mr. John, I mean Christmas,” objected
+Yancy.
+
+“Oh, very well, he means Christmas then!” said Crenshaw.
+
+“The evening befo', it was, and I'd gone to Fayetteville to get my
+Christmas fixin's; there was right much rain and some snow falling.” Mr.
+Yancy's guiding light was clearly accuracy. “Just at sundown I hooked up
+that blind mule of mine to the cart and started fo' home. As I got shut
+of the town the stage come in and I seen one passenger, a woman. Now
+that mule is slow, Mr. John; I'm free to say there are faster mules,
+but a set of harness never went acrost the back of a slower critter
+than that one of mine.” Yancy, who thus far had addressed himself to
+Mr. Crenshaw, now turned to Bladen. “That mule, sir, sees good with his
+right eye, but it's got a gait like it was looking fo' the left-hand
+side of the road and wondering what in thunderation had got into it
+that it was acrost the way; mules are gifted with some sense, but mighty
+little judgment.”
+
+“Never mind the mule, Bob,” said Crenshaw.
+
+“If I can't make the gentleman believe in the everlasting slowness of
+that mule of mine, my story ain't worth a hill of beans,” said Yancy.
+
+“The extraordinary slowness of the mule is accepted without question,
+Mr. Yancy,” said Bladen.
+
+“I'm obliged to you,” rejoined Yancy, and for a brief moment he appeared
+to commune with himself, then he continued. “A mile out of town I heard
+some one sloshing through the rain after me; it was dark by that time
+and I couldn't see who it was, so I pulled up and waited, and then I
+made out it was a woman. She spoke when she was alongside the cart and
+says, 'Can you drive me on to the Barony?' and it came to me it was the
+same woman I'd seen leave the stage. When I got down to help her into
+the cart I saw she was toting a child in her arms.”
+
+“What did the woman look like, Bob?” said Crenshaw.
+
+“She wa'n't exactly old and she wa'n't young by no manner of means;
+I remember saying to myself, that child ain't yo's, whose ever it is.
+Well, sir, I was willing enough to talk, but she wa'n't, she hardly
+spoke until we came to the red gate, when she says, 'Stop, if you
+please, I'll walk the rest of the way.' Mind you, she'd known without a
+word from me we were at the Barony. She give me a dollar, and the last
+I seen of her she was hurrying through the rain toting the child in her
+arms.”
+
+Mr. Crenshaw took up the narrative.
+
+“The niggers say the old general almost had a fit when he saw her.
+Aunt Alsidia let her into the house; I reckon if Joe had been alive she
+wouldn't have got inside that door, spite of the night!”
+
+“Well?” said Bladen.
+
+“When morning come she was gone, but the child done stayed behind; we
+always reckoned the lady walked back to Fayetteville sometime befo' day
+and took the stage. I've heard Aunt Alsidia tell as how the old general
+said that morning, pale and shaking like, 'You'll find a boy asleep
+in the red room; he's to be fed and cared fo', but keep him out of my
+sight. His name is Hannibal Wayne Hazard.' That is all the general ever
+said on the matter. He never would see the boy, never asked after him
+even, and the boy lived in the back of the house, with the niggers to
+look after him. Now, sir, you know as much as we know, which is just
+next door to nothing.”
+
+The old general was borne across what had once been the west lawn to his
+resting-place in the neglected acre where the dead and gone of his race
+lay, and the record of the family was complete, as far as any man knew.
+Crenshaw watched the grave take shape with a melancholy for which he
+found no words, yet if words could have come from the mist of ideas in
+which his mind groped vaguely he would have said that for themselves the
+deeds of the Quintards had been given the touch of finality, and that
+whether for good or for evil, the consequences, like the ripple which
+rises from the surface of placid waters when a stone is dropped, still
+survived somewhere in the world.
+
+The curious and the idle drifted back to the great house; then the
+memory of their own affairs, not urgent, generally speaking, but still
+of some casual interest, took them down the disused carriage-way to the
+red gate and so off into the heat of the summer day. Crenshaw's wagon,
+driven by Crenshaw's man, vanished in a cloud of gray dust with the
+two old slaves, Aunt Alsidia and Uncle Ben, who were being taken to the
+Crenshaw place to be cared for pending the settlement of the Quintard
+estate. Bladen parted from Crenshaw with expressions of pleasure at
+having had the opportunity of making his acquaintance, and further
+delivered himself of the civil wish that they might soon meet again.
+Then Crenshaw, assisted by Bob Yancy, proceeded to secure the great
+house against intrusion.
+
+“I make it a p'int to always stay and see the plumb finish of a thing,”
+ explained Yancy. “Otherwise you're frequently put out by hearing of what
+happened after you left; I can stand anything but disapp'intment of that
+kind.”
+
+They passed from room to room securing doors and windows, and at last
+stepped out upon the back porch.
+
+“Hullo!” said Yancy, pointing.
+
+There on a bench by the kitchen door was a small figure. It was Hannibal
+Wayne Hazard asleep, with his old spo'tin' rifle across his knees. His
+very existence had been forgotten.
+
+“Well, I declare to goodness!” said Crenshaw.
+
+“What are you going to do with him, Mr. John?”
+
+This question nettled Crenshaw.
+
+“I don't know as that is any particular affair of mine,” he said. Now,
+Mr. Crenshaw, though an excellent man of business, with an unblinking
+eye on number one, was kindly, on the whole, but there was a Mrs.
+Crenshaw, to whom he rendered a strict account of all his deeds, and
+that sacred institution, the home, was only a tolerable haven when
+these deeds were nicely calculated to fit with the lady's exactions.
+Especially was he aware that Mrs. Crenshaw was averse to children as
+being inimical to cleanliness and order, oppressive virtues that drove
+Crenshaw himself in his hours of leisure to the woodshed, where he might
+spit freely.
+
+“I reckon you'd rather drop a word with yo' missus before you toted him
+home?” suggested Yancy, who knew something of the nature of his friend's
+domestic thraldom.
+
+“A woman ought to be boss in her own house,” said Crenshaw.
+
+“Feelin' the truth of that, I've never married, Mr. John; I do as I
+please and don't have to listen to a passel of opinion. But I was going
+to say, what's to hinder me from toting that boy to my home? There are
+no calico petticoats hanging up in my closets.”
+
+“And no closets to hang 'em in, I'll be bound!” rejoined Crenshaw. “But
+if you'll take the boy, Bob, you shan't lose by it.”
+
+Yancy rested a big knotted hand on the boy's shoulder.
+
+“Come, wake up, sonny! Yo' Uncle Bob is ready fo' to strike out home,”
+ he said. The child roused with a start and stared into the strange
+bearded face that was bent toward him. “It's yo' Uncle Bob,” continued
+Yancy in a wheedling tone. “Are you the little nevvy what will help him
+to hook up that old blind mule of hisn? Here, give us the spo'tin' rifle
+to tote!”
+
+“Please, sir, where is Aunt Alsidia?” asked the child.
+
+Yancy balanced the rifle on his great palm and his eyes assumed a
+speculative cast.
+
+“I wonder what's to hinder us from loading this old gun, and firing this
+old gun, and hearing this old gun go-bang! Eh?”
+
+The child's blue eyes grew wide.
+
+“Like the guns off in the woods?” he asked, in a breathless whisper.
+
+“Like the guns a body hears off in the woods, only louder--heaps
+louder,” said Yancy. “You fetch out his plunder, Mr. John,” he added in
+a lower tone.
+
+“Do it now, please,” the child cried, slipping off the bench.
+
+“I was expectin' fo' to hear you name me Uncle Bob, sonny; my little
+nevvies get almost anything they want out of me when they call me
+that-a-ways.”
+
+“Please, Uncle Bob, make it go bang!”
+
+“You come along, then,” and Mr. Yancy moved off in the direction of his
+mule, the child following. “Powder's what we want fo' to make this old
+spo'tin' rifle talk up, and I reckon we'll find some in a horn flask
+in the bottom of my cart.” His expectations in this particular were
+realized, and he loaded the rifle with a small blank charge. “Now,” he
+said, shaking the powder into the pan by a succession of smart taps on
+the breech, “sometimes these old pieces go off and sometimes they don't;
+it depends on the flint, but you stand back of your Uncle Bob, sonny,
+and keep yo' fingers out of yo' ears, and when you say--bang!--off she
+goes.”
+
+There was a moment of delightful expectancy, and then--
+
+“Bang!” cried the child, and on the instant the rifle cracked. “Do it
+again! Please, Uncle Bob!” he cried, wild with delight.
+
+“Now if you was to help yo' Uncle Bob hook up that old mule of hisn and
+ride home with him, fo' he's going pretty shortly, you and Uncle Bob
+could do right much shootin' with this old rifle.” Mr. Crenshaw had
+appeared with a bundle, which he tossed into the cart. Yancy turned to
+him. “If you meet any inquiring friends, Mr. John, I reckon you may say
+that my nevvy's gone fo' to pay me a visit. Most of his time will be
+agreeably spent shootin' with this rifle at a mark, and me holdin' him
+so he won't get kicked clean off his feet.”
+
+Thereafter beguiling speech flowed steadily from Mr. Yancy's bearded
+lips, in the midst of which relations were established between the mule
+and cart, and the boy quitted the Barony for a new world.
+
+“Do you reckon if Uncle Bob was to let you, you could drive, sonny?”
+
+“Can she gallop?” asked the boy.
+
+Mr. Yancy gave him a hurt glance.
+
+“She's too much of a lady to do that,” he said. “No, I 'low this ain't
+'so fast as running or walking, but it's a heap quicker than standing
+stock-still.” The afternoon sun waned as they went deeper and deeper
+into the pine woods, but at last they came to their journey's end, a
+widely scattered settlement on a hill above a branch.
+
+“This,” said Mr. Yancy, “are Scratch Hill, sonny. Why Scratch Hill? Some
+say it's the fleas; others agin hold it's the eternal bother of making a
+living here, but whether fleas or living you scratch fo' both.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. YANCY TELLS A MORAL TALE
+
+
+In the deep peace that rested like a benediction on the pine-clad slopes
+of Scratch Hill the boy Hannibal followed at Yancy's heels as that
+gentleman pursued the not arduous rounds of temperate industry which
+made up his daily life, for if Yancy were not completely idle he was
+responsible for a counterfeit presentment of idleness having most of the
+merits of the real article. He toiled casually in a small cornfield and
+a yet smaller truck patch, but his work always began late, when it began
+at all, and he was easily dissuaded from continuing it; indeed, his
+attitude toward it seemed to challenge interference.
+
+In the winter, when the weather conditions were perfectly adjusted to
+meet certain occult exactions he had come to require, Yancy could be
+induced to go into the woods and there labor with his ax. But as he
+pointed out to Hannibal, a poor man's capital was his health, and he
+being a poor man it behooved him to have a jealous care of himself. He
+made use of the dull days of mingled mist and drizzle for hunting, work
+being clearly out of the question; one could get about over the brown
+floor of the forest in silence then, and there was no sun to glint the
+brass mountings of his rifle. The fine days he professed to regard with
+keen suspicion as weather breeders, when it was imprudent to go far from
+home, especially in the direction of the Crenshaw timber lands, which
+for years had been the scene of all his gainful industry, and where he
+seemed to think nature ready to assume her most sinister aspect.
+Again in the early spring, when the young oak leaves were the size of
+squirrel's ears and the whippoorwills began calling as the long shadows
+struck through the pine woods, the needs of his corn ground battled with
+his desire to fish. In all such crises of the soul Mr. Yancy was fairly
+vanquished before the struggle began; but to the boy his activities were
+perfectly ordered to yield the largest return in contentment.
+
+The Barony had been offered for sale and bought in by Crenshaw for
+eleven thousand dollars, this being the amount of his claim. Some six
+months later he sold the plantation for fifteen thousand dollars to
+Nathaniel Ferris, of Currituck County.
+
+“There's money in the old place, Bob, at that figure,” Crenshaw told
+Yancy.
+
+“There are so,” agreed Yancy, who was thinking Crenshaw had lost no time
+in getting it out.
+
+They were seated on the counter in Crenshaw's store at Balaam's Cross
+Roads, where the heavy odor of black molasses battled with the sprightly
+smell of salt fish. The merchant held the Scratch Hiller in no small
+esteem. Their intimacy was of long standing, for the Yancys going down
+and the Crenshaws coming up had for a brief space flourished on the
+same social level. Mr. Crenshaw's rise in life, however, had been
+uninterrupted, while Mr. Yancy, wrapped in a philosophic calm and deeply
+averse to industry, had permitted the momentum imparted by a remote
+ancestor to carry him where it would, which was steadily away from
+that tempered prosperity his family had once boasted as members of the
+land-owning and slaveholding class.
+
+“I mean there's money in the place fo' Ferris,” Crenshaw explained.
+
+“I reckon yo're right, Mr. John; the old general used to spend a heap
+on the Barony and we all know he never got a cent back, so I reckon the
+money's there yet.
+
+“Bladen's got an answer from them South Carolina Quintards, and they
+don't know nothing about the boy,” said Crenshaw, changing the subject.
+“So you can rest easy, Bob; they ain't going to want him.”
+
+“Well, sir, that surely is a passel of comfort to me. I find I got all
+the instincts of a father without having had none of the instincts of a
+husband.”
+
+A richer, deeper realization of his joy came to Yancy when he had
+turned his back on Balaam's Cross Roads and set out for home through the
+fragrant silence of the pine woods. His probable part in the young life
+chance had placed in his keeping was a glorious thing to the man. He had
+not cared to speculate on the future; he had believed that friends or
+kindred must sooner or later claim Hannibal, but now he felt wonderfully
+secure in Crenshaw's opinion that this was not to be.
+
+Just beyond the Barony, which was midway between Balaam's and the Hill,
+down the long stretch of sandy road he saw two mounted figures, then as
+they drew nearer he caught the flutter of skirts and recognized one of
+the horsewomen. It was Mrs. Ferris, wife of the Barony's new owner. She
+reined in her horse abreast of his cart.
+
+“Aren't you Mr. Yancy?” she asked.
+
+“Yes, ma'am, that's me--Bob Yancy.” He regarded her with large gray eyes
+that were frankly approving in their expression, for she was more than
+commonly agreeable to look upon.
+
+“I am Mrs. Ferris, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
+
+“The same here,” murmured Yancy with winning civility.
+
+Mrs. Ferris' companion leaned forward, her face averted, and stroked her
+horse's neck with gloved hand.
+
+“This is my friend, Miss Betty Malroy.”
+
+“Glad to know you, ma'am,” said Yancy.
+
+Miss Malroy faced him, smiling. She, too, was very good to look upon,
+indeed she was quite radiant with youth and beauty.
+
+“We are just returning from Scratch Hill--I think that is what you call
+it?” said Mrs. Ferris.
+
+“So we do,” agreed Yancy.
+
+“And the dear little boy we met is your nephew, is he not, Mr. Yancy?”
+ It was Betty Malroy who spoke.
+
+“In a manner he is and in a manner he ain't,” explained Yancy, somewhat
+enigmatically.
+
+“There are quite a number of children at Scratch Hill?” suggested Mrs.
+Ferris.
+
+“Yes, ma'am, so there are; a body would naturally notice that.”
+
+“And no school--not a church even!” continued Mrs. Ferris in a grieved
+tone.
+
+“Never has been,” rejoined Yancy cheerfully. He seemed to champion the
+absence of churches and schools on the score of long usage.
+
+“But what do the people do when they want to go to church?” questioned
+Mrs. Ferris.
+
+“Never having heard that any of 'em wanted to go I can't say just
+offhand, but don't you fret none about that, ma'am; there are churches;
+one's up at the Forks, and there's another at Balaam's Cross Roads.”
+
+“But that's ten miles from Scratch Hill, isn't it?”
+
+“It's all of that,” said Yancy. He sensed it that the lady before
+him, was a person of much force and energy, capable even of reckless
+innovation. Mr. Yancy himself was innately conservative; his religious
+inspiration had been drawn from the Forks and Balaam's Cross Roads. It
+had seemed to answer very well. Mrs. Ferris fixed his wavering glance.
+
+“Don't you think it is too bad, Mr. Yancy, the way those children have
+been neglected? There is nothing for them but to run wild.”
+
+“Well, I seen some right good children fetched up that-a-ways--smart,
+too. You see, ma'am, there's a heap a child can just naturally pick up
+of himself.”
+
+“Oh!” and the monosyllable was uttered rather weakly. Mr. Yancy's name
+had been given her as that of a resident of weight and influence in the
+classic region of Scratch Hill. Miss Malroy came to her friend's rescue.
+
+“Mrs. Ferris thinks the children should have a chance to learn at
+home. Poor little tots!--they can't walk ten or fifteen miles to
+Sunday-school, now can they, Mr. Yancy?”
+
+“Bless yo' heart, they won't try to!” said Yancy reassuringly. “Sunday's
+a day of rest at Scratch Hill. So are most of the other days of the
+week, but we all aspire to take just a little mo' rest on Sunday than
+any other day. Sometimes we ain't able to, but that's our aim.”
+
+“Do you know the old deserted cabin by the big pine?--the Blount place?”
+ asked Mrs. Ferris.
+
+“Yes, ma'am, I know it.”
+
+“I am going to have Sunday-school there for those children; they shan't
+be neglected any longer if I can help it--I should feel guilty, quite
+guilty! Now won't you let your little nephew come? Perhaps they'll not
+find it so very terrible, after all.” From which Mr. Yancy concluded
+that when she invaded it, skepticism had rested as a mantle on Scratch
+Hill.
+
+“Every one said we would better talk with you, Mr. Yancy, and we were
+hoping to meet you as we came along,” supplemented Miss Malroy, and her
+words of flattery were wafted to him with so sweet a smile that Yancy
+instantly capitulated.
+
+“I reckon you-all can count on my nevvy,” he said.
+
+When he reached Scratch Hill, in the waning light of day, Hannibal, in
+a state of high excitement, met him at the log shed, which served as a
+barn.
+
+“I hear you-all have been entertaining visitors while Uncle Bob was
+away,” observed Yancy, and remembering what Crenshaw had told him, he
+rested his big hand on the boy's head with a special tenderness.
+
+“There's going to be a school in the cabin in the old field!” said the
+boy. “May I go?--Oh, Uncle Bob, will you please take me?”
+
+“When's this here school going to begin, anyhow?”
+
+“To-morrow at four o'clock, she said, Uncle Bob.”
+
+“She's a quick lady, ain't she? Well, I expected you'd be hopping around
+on one leg when you named it to me. You wait until Sunday and see what I
+do fo' my nevvy,” said Yancy.
+
+He was as good as his implied promise, but the day began discouragingly
+with an extra and, as it seemed to Hannibal, an unnecessary amount of
+soap and water.
+
+“You owe it to yo'self to show a clean skin in the house of worship.
+Just suppose one of them nice ladies was to cast her eye back of yo'
+ears! She'd surely be put out to name it offhand whether you was black
+or white. I reckon I'll have to barber you some, too, with the shears.”
+
+“What's school like, Uncle Bob?” asked Hannibal, twisting and squirming
+under the big resolute hands of the man.
+
+“I can't just say what it's like.”
+
+“Why, didn't you ever go to school, Uncle Bob?”
+
+“Didn't I ever go to school! Where do you reckon I got my education,
+anyhow? I went to school several times in my young days.”
+
+“On a Sunday, like this?”
+
+“No, the school I tackled was on a week-day.”
+
+“Was it hard?” asked Hannibal, who was beginning to cherish secret
+misgivings; for surely all this soap and water must have some sinister
+portent.
+
+“Well, some learn easier than others. I learned middling easy--it didn't
+take me long--and when I felt I knowed enough I just naturally quit and
+went on about my business.”
+
+“But what did you learn?” insisted the boy.
+
+“You-all wouldn't know if I told you, because you-all ain't ever been
+to school yo'self. When you've had yo' education we'll talk over what I
+learned--it mostly come out of a book.” He hoped his general statement
+would satisfy Hannibal, but it failed to do so.
+
+“What's a book. Uncle Bob?” he demanded.
+
+“Well, whatever a body don't know naturally he gets out of a book. I
+reckon the way you twist, Nevvy, mebby you'd admire fo' to lose an ear!”
+ and Mr. Yancy refused further to discuss the knowledge he had garnered
+in his youth.
+
+Hannibal and Yancy were the first to arrive at the deserted cabin in the
+old field that afternoon. They found the place had been recently cleaned
+and swept, while about the wall was ranged a row of benches; there was
+also a table and two chairs. Yancy inspected the premises with the eye
+of mature experience.
+
+“Yes, it surely is a school; any one with an education would know that.
+Just look!--ain't you glad yo' Uncle Bob slicked you up some, now you
+see what them ladies has done fo' to make this place tidy?”
+
+Shy children from the pine woods, big brothers with little sisters and
+big sisters with little brothers, drifted out of the encircling forest.
+Coincident with the arrival of the last of these stragglers Mrs. Ferris
+and Miss Malroy appeared, attended by a colored groom.
+
+“It was so good of you to come, Mr. Yancy! The children won't feel so
+shy with you here,” said Mrs. Ferris warmly, as Yancy assisted her to
+dismount, an act of courtesy that called for his finest courage.
+
+Mrs. Ferris' missionary spirit manifested itself agreeably enough on
+the whole. When she had ranged her flock in a solemn-faced row on the
+benches, she began by explaining why Sunday was set apart for a day
+of rest, touching but lightly on its deeper significance as a day
+of worship as well; then she read certain chapters from the Bible,
+finishing with the story of David, a narrative that made a deep
+impression upon Yancy, comfortably seated in the doorway.
+
+“Can't you tell the children a story, Mr. Yancy? Something about their
+own neighborhood I think would be nice, something with a moral,” the
+pleasant earnest voice f Mrs. Ferris roused the Scratch Hiller from his
+meditations.
+
+“Yes, ma'am, I reckon I can tell 'em a story.” He stood up, filling
+the doorway with his bulk. “I can tell you-all a story about this here
+house,” he said, addressing himself to the children. He smiled happily.
+“You-all don't need to look so solemn, a body ain't going to snap at
+you! This house are the old Blount cabin, but the Blounts done moved
+away from it years and years ago. They're down Fayetteville way now.
+There was a passel of 'em and they was about as common a lot of white
+folks as you'd find anywhere; I know, because I come to a dance here
+once and Dave Blount called me a liar right in this very room.” He
+paused, that this impressive fact might disseminate itself. Hannibal
+slid forward in his seat, his earnest little face bent on Yancy.
+
+“Why did he call you a liar, Uncle Bob?” he demanded.
+
+“Well, I scarcely know, Nevvy, but that's what he done, and he stuck
+some words in front of it that ain't fitten I should repeat.”
+
+Miss Malroy's cheeks had become very red, and Mrs. Ferris refused
+to meet her eye, while the children were in a flutter of pleased
+expectancy. They felt the wholly contemporary interest of Yancy's story;
+he was dealing with forms of speech which prevailed and were usually
+provocative of consequences more or less serious. He gave them a wide,
+sunny smile.
+
+“When Dave Blount called me that, I struck out fo' home.” At this
+surprising turn in the narrative the children looked their disgust, and
+Mrs. Ferris shot Betty a triumphant glance. “Yes, ma'am, I struck out
+across the fields fo' home, I didn't wish to hear no mo' of that loose
+kind of talk. When I got home I found my old daddy setting up afo' the
+fire, and he says, 'You come away early, son.' I told him what Dave
+Blount had called me and he says, 'You acted like a gentleman, Bob, with
+all them womenfolks about.”'
+
+“You had a very good and sensible father, Mr. Yancy. How much better
+than if--” began Mrs. Ferris, who feared that the moral might elude him.
+
+“Yes, ma'am, but along about day he come into the loft where I was
+sleeping and says to me, 'Sun-up, Bob--time fo' you to haul on yo' pants
+and go back yonder and fetch that Dave Blount a smack in the jaw.'” Mrs.
+Ferris moved uneasily in her chair: “I dressed and come here, but when
+I asked fo' Dave he wouldn't step outside, so I just lost patience with
+his foolishness and took a crack at him standing where I'm standing now,
+but he ducked and you can still see, ma'am”--turning to the embarrassed
+Mrs. Ferris--“where my knuckles made a dint in the door-jamb. I got him
+the next lick, though!”
+
+Mr. Yancy's moral tale had reached its conclusion; it was not for him to
+boast unduly of his prowess.
+
+“Uncle Bob, you lift me up and show me them dints!” and Hannibal slipped
+from his seat.
+
+“Oh, no!” said Betty Malroy laughing. She captured the boy and drew him
+down beside her on a corner of her chair. “I am sure you don't want to
+see the dents--Mr. Yancy's story, children, is to teach us how important
+it is to guard our words--and not give way to hasty speech--”
+
+“Betty!” cried Mrs. Ferris indignantly.
+
+“Judith, the moral is as obvious as it is necessary.”
+
+Mrs. Ferris gave her a reproachful look and turned to the children.
+
+“You will all be here next Sunday, won't you?--and at the same hour?”
+ she said, rising.
+
+There was a sudden clatter of hoofs beyond the door. A man, well dressed
+and well mounted had ridden into the yard. As Mrs. Ferris came from the
+cabin he flung himself out of the saddle and, hat in hand, approached
+her.
+
+“I am hunting a place called the Barony; can you tell me if I am on the
+right road?” he asked. He was a man in the early thirties, graceful and
+powerful of build, with a handsome face.
+
+“It is my husband you wish to see? I am Mrs. Ferris.”
+
+“Then General Quintard is dead?” His tone was one of surprise.
+
+“His death occurred over a year ago, and my husband now owns the Barony;
+were you a friend of the general's?”
+
+“No, Madam; he was my father's friend, but I had hoped to meet him.” His
+manner was adroit and plausible.
+
+Mrs. Ferris hesitated. The stranger's dress and bearing was that of a
+gentleman, and he could boast of his father's friendship with General
+Quintard. Any doubts she may have had she put aside.
+
+“Will you ride on with us to the Barony and meet my husband, Mr.--?” she
+paused.
+
+“Murrell--Captain Murrell. Thank you; I should like to see the old
+place. I should highly value the privilege,” then his eyes rested on
+Miss Malroy.
+
+“Betty, let me present Captain Murrell.”
+
+The captain bowed, giving her a glance of bold admiration.
+
+By this time the children had straggled off into the pine woods as
+silently as they had assembled; only Yancy and Hannibal remained. Mrs.
+Ferris turned to the former.
+
+“If you will close the cabin door, Mr. Yancy, everything will be ready
+for next Sunday,” she said, and moved toward the horses, followed by
+Murrell. Betty Malroy lingered for a moment at Hannibal's side.
+
+“Good-by, little boy; you must ask your Uncle Bob to bring you up to the
+big house to see me,” and stooping she kissed him. “Good-by, Mr. Yancy,
+I liked your story.”
+
+Hannibal and Yancy watched them mount and ride away, then the boy said:
+
+“Uncle Bob, now them ladies have gone, won't you please show me them
+dints you made in the doorjamb?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. TROUBLE AT SCRATCH HILL
+
+
+Captain Murrell had established himself at Balaam's Cross Roads. He
+was supposed to be interested in the purchase of a plantation, and in
+company with Crenshaw visited the numerous tracts of land which the
+merchant owned; but though he professed delight with the country, he
+was plainly in no haste to become committed to any one of the several
+propositions Crenshaw was eager to submit. Later, and still in the guise
+of a prospective purchaser, he met Bladen, who also dealt extensively
+in land, and apparently if anything could have pleased him more than
+the region about the Cross Roads it was the country adjacent to
+Fayetteville.
+
+From the first he had assiduously cultivated his acquaintance with
+the new owners of the Barony. He was now on the best of terms with Nat
+Ferris, and it was at the Barony that he lounged away his evenings,
+gossiping and smoking with the planter on the wide veranda.
+
+“The Barony would have suited me,” he told Bladen one day. They had
+just returned from an excursion into the country and were seated in the
+lawyer's office.
+
+“You say your father was a friend of the old general's?” said Bladen.
+
+“Years ago, in the north--yes,” answered Murrell.
+
+“Odd, isn't it, the way he chose to spend the last years of his life,
+shut off like that and seeing no one?”
+
+Murrell regarded the lawyer in silence for a moment out of his deeply
+sunk eyes.
+
+“Too bad about the boy,” he said at length slowly.
+
+“How do you mean, Captain?” asked Bladen.
+
+“I mean it's a pity he has no one except Yancy to look after him,” said
+Murrell, but Bladen showed no interest and Murrell went on. “Don't you
+reckon he must have touched General Quintard's life mighty close at some
+point?”
+
+“Well, if so, it eluded me,” said Bladen. “I went through General
+Quintard's papers and they contained no clue to the boy's identity that
+I could discover. Fact is, the general didn't leave much beyond an old
+account-book or two; I imagine that before his death he destroyed the
+bulk of his private papers; it looked as if he'd wished to break with
+the past. His mind must have been affected.”
+
+“Has Yancy any legal claim on the boy?” inquired Murrell.
+
+“No, certainly not; the boy was merely left with Yancy because Crenshaw
+didn't know what else to do with him.”
+
+“Get possession of him, and if I don't buy land here I'll take him West
+with me,” said Murrell quietly. Bladen gave him a swift, shrewd glance,
+but Murrell, smiling and easy, met it frankly. “Come,” he said, “it's
+a pity he should grow up wild in the pine woods--get him away
+from Yancy--I am' willing to spend five hundred dollars on this if
+necessary.”
+
+“As a matter of sentiment?”
+
+“As a matter of sentiment.”
+
+Bladen considered. He was not averse to making five hundred dollars, but
+he was decidedly averse to letting slip any chance to secure a larger
+sum. It flashed in upon him that Murrell had uncovered the real purpose
+of his visit to North Carolina; his interest in land had been merely a
+subterfuge.
+
+“Well?” said Murrell.
+
+“I'll have to think your proposition over,” said Bladen.
+
+The immediate result of this conversation was that within twenty-four
+hours a man driving two horses hitched to a light buggy arrived at
+Scratch Hill in quest of Bob Yancy, whom he found at dinner and to
+whom he delivered a letter. Mr. Yancy was profoundly impressed by the
+attention, for holding the letter at arm's length, he said,
+
+“Well, sir, I've lived nigh on to forty years, but I never got a piece
+of writing befo'--never, sir. People, if they was close by, spoke to
+me, if at a distance they hollered, but none of 'em ever wrote.” After
+gazing at the written characters with satisfaction Mr. Yancy made a
+taper of the letter and lit his pipe, which he puffed meditatively.
+“Sonny, when you grow up you must learn so you can send writings to yo'
+Uncle Bob fo' him to light his pipe with.”
+
+“What was in the paper, Uncle Bob?” asked Hannibal.
+
+“Writin',” said Mr. Yancy, and smoked.
+
+“What did the writin' say, Uncle Bob?” insisted the boy.
+
+“It was private,” said Mr. Yancy, “very private.”
+
+“What's your answer?” demanded the stranger.
+
+“That's private, too,” said Mr. Yancy. “You tell him I'll be monstrous
+glad to talk it over with him any time he fancies to come out here.”
+
+“He said something about some one I was to carry back with me,” objected
+the man.
+
+“Who said that?” asked Mr. Yancy.
+
+“Bladen did.”
+
+“How's a body to know who yore talking about unless you name him?” said
+Yancy severely.
+
+“Well, what am I to tell him?”
+
+“It's a free country and I got no call to dictate. You-all can tell
+him whatever you like.” Further than this Mr. Yancy would not commit
+himself, and the man went as he came.
+
+The next day Yancy had occasion to visit Balaam's Cross Roads.
+Ordinarily Hannibal would have gone with him, but he was engaged in
+digging out a groundhog's hole with Oglethorpe Bellamy, grandson of
+Uncle Sammy Bellamy, the patriarch of Scratch Hill. Mr. Yancy forbore to
+interrupt this enterprise which he considered of some educational value,
+since the ground-hog's hole was an old one and he was reasonably certain
+that a family of skunks had taken possession of it. When Yancy reached
+the Cross Roads, Crenshaw gave him a disquieting opinion as to the
+probable contents of his letter, for he himself had heard from Bladen
+that he had decided to assume the care of the boy.
+
+“So you reckon it was that--” said Yancy, with a deep breath.
+
+“It's a blame outrage, Bob, fo' him to act like this!” said the merchant
+with heat.
+
+“When do you reckon he's going to send fo' him?” asked Yancy.
+
+“Whenever the notion strikes him.”
+
+“What about my having notions too?” inquired Yancy, flecked into
+passion, and bringing his fist down on the counter with a crash.
+
+“You surely ain't going to oppose him, Bob?”
+
+“Does he say when he's going to send fo' my nevvy?”
+
+“He says it will be soon.”
+
+“You take care of my mule, Mr. John,” said Yancy, and turned his back on
+his friend.
+
+“I reckon Bladen will have the law on his side, Bob!”
+
+“The law be damned--I got what's fair on mine, I don't wish fo' better
+than that,” exclaimed Yancy, over his shoulder. He strode from the store
+and started down the sandy road at a brisk run. Miserable forebodings of
+an impending tragedy leaped up within him, and the miles were many that
+lay between him and the Hill.
+
+“He'll just naturally bust the face off the fellow Bladen sends!”
+ thought Crenshaw, staring after his friend.
+
+That run of Bob Yancy's was destined to become a classic in the annals
+of the neighborhood. Ordinarily a man walking briskly might cover
+the distance between the Cross Roads and the Hill in two hours. He
+accomplished it in less than an hour, and before he reached the branch
+that flowed a full quarter of a mile from his cabin he was shouting
+Hannibal's name as he ran. Then as he breasted the slope he came within
+sight of a little group in his own dooryard. Saving only Uncle Sammy
+Bellamy, the group resolved itself into the women and children of the
+Hill, but there was one small figure he missed, and the color faded from
+his cheeks while his heart stood still. The patriarch hurried toward
+him, leaning on his cane, while his grandson clung to the skirts of his
+coat, weeping bitterly.
+
+“They've took your nevvy, Bob!” he cried, in a high, thin voice.
+
+“Who's took him?” asked Yancy hoarsely. He paused and glanced from one
+to another of the little group.
+
+“Hit were Dave Blount. Get your gun, Bob, and go after him--kill the
+miserable sneaking cuss!” cried Uncle Sammy, who believed in settling
+all difficulties by bloodshed as befitted a veteran of the first war
+with England, he having risen to the respectable rank of sergeant in a
+company of Morgan's riflemen; while at sixty-odd in '12, when there was
+recruiting at the Cross Roads, his son had only been able to prevent his
+tendering his services to his country by hiding his trousers. “Fetch his
+rifle, some of you fool women!” cried Uncle Sammy. “By the Fayetteville
+Road, Bob, not ten minutes ago--you can cut him off at Ox Road forks!”
+
+Yancy breathed a sigh of relief. The situation was not entirely
+desperate, for, as Uncle Sammy said, he could reach the Ox Road forks
+before Blount possibly could, by going as the crow flies through the
+pine woods.
+
+“Hit wouldn't have happened if there'd been a man on the Hill, but there
+was nothing but a passel of women about the place. I heard the boys
+crying when Dave Blount lifted your nevvy into the buggy,” said Uncle
+Sammy; “all I could do was to cuss him across two fields. I hope you
+blow his hide full of holes!” for a rifle had been placed in Yancy's
+hands.
+
+“Thank you-all kindly,” said Yancy, and turning away he struck off
+through the pine woods. A brisk walk of twenty minutes brought him to
+the Ox Road forks, as it was called, where he could plainly distinguish
+the wheel and hoof marks left by the buggy and team as it went to
+Scratch Hill, but there was only the single track.
+
+This important point being settled, sense of sweet peace stole in upon
+Yancy's spirit. He stood his rifle against a tree, lit his pipe with
+flint and steel, and rested comfortably by the wayside. He had not long
+to wait, for presently the buggy hove in sight; whereupon he coolly
+knocked the ashes from his pipe, pocketed it, and prepared for action.
+As the buggy came nearer he recognized his ancient enemy in the person
+of the man who sat at Hannibal's side, and stepping nimbly into the road
+seized the horses by their bits. At sight of him Hannibal shrieked his
+name in an ecstasy of delight.
+
+“Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob--” he, cried.
+
+“Yes, it's Uncle Bob. You can light down, Nevvy. I reckon you've rid far
+enough,” said Yancy pleasantly.
+
+“Leggo them horses!” said Mr. Blount, recovering somewhat from the
+effect of Yancy's sudden appearance.
+
+“Light down, Nevvy,” said Yancy, still pleasantly. Blount turned to the
+boy as if to interfere. “Don't you put the weight of yo' finger on the
+boy, Blount!” warned Yancy. “Light down, Hannibal!”
+
+Hannibal instantly availed himself of the invitation. At the same moment
+Blount struck at Yancy with his whip and his horses reared wildly,
+thinking the blow meant for them. Seeing that the boy had reached the
+ground in safety, Yancy relaxed his hold on the team, which instantly
+plunged forward. Then as the buggy swept past him he made a dexterous
+grab at Blount and dragged him out over the wheels into the road, where,
+for the second time in his life, he proceeded to fetch Mr. Blount
+a smack in the jaw. This he followed up with other smacks variously
+distributed about his countenance.
+
+“You'll sweat for this, Bob Yancy!” cried Blount, as he vainly sought to
+fend off the blows.
+
+“I'm sweating now--scandalous,” said Mr. Yancy, taking his unhurried
+satisfaction of the other. Then with a final skilful kick he sent Mr.
+Blount sprawling. “Don't let me catch you around these diggings again,
+Dave Blount, or I swear to God I'll be the death of you!”
+
+Hannibal rode home through the pine woods in triumph on his Uncle Bob's
+mighty shoulders.
+
+“Did you get yo' ground-hog, Nevvy?” inquired Mr. Yancy presently when
+they had temporarily exhausted the excitement of Hannibal's capture and
+recovery.
+
+“It weren't a ground-hog, Uncle Bob--it were a skunk!”
+
+“Think of that!” murmured Mr. Yancy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. LAW AT BALAAM'S CROSS-ROADS
+
+
+But Mr. Yancy was only at the beginning of his trouble. Three days later
+there appeared on the borders of Scratch Hill a lank gentleman armed
+with a rifle, while the butts of two pistols protruded from the depths
+of his capacious coat pockets. He made his presence known by whooping
+from the edge of the branch, and his whoops shaped themselves into the
+name of Yancy. It was Charley Balaam, old Squire Balaam's nephew. The
+squire lived at the crossroads to which his family had given its name,
+and dispensed the little law that found its way into that part of the
+county. The whoops finally brought Yancy to his cabin door.
+
+“Can I see you friendly, Bob Yancy?” Balaam demanded with the lungs of a
+stentor, sheltering himself behind the thick bole of a sweetgum, for he
+observed that Yancy held his rifle in the crook of his arm and had no
+wish to offer his person as a target to the deadly aim of the Scratch
+Hiller who was famous for his skill.
+
+“I reckon you can, Charley Balaam, if you are friendly,” said Yancy.
+
+“I'm a family man, Bob, and I ask you candid, do you feel peevish?”
+
+“Not in particular,” and Yancy put aside his rifle.
+
+“I'm a-going to trust you, Bob,” said Balaam. And forsaking the shelter
+of the sweetgum he shuffled up the slope.
+
+“How are you, Charley?” asked Yancy, as they shook hands.
+
+“Only just tolerable, Bob. You've been warranted--Dave Blount swore hit
+on to you.” He displayed a sheet of paper covered with much writing and
+decorated with a large seal. Yancy viewed this formidable document with
+respect, but did not offer to take it.
+
+“Read it,” he said mildly. Balaam scratched his head.
+
+“I don't know that hit's my duty to do that, Bob. Hit's my duty to
+serve it on to you. But I can tell you what's into hit, leavin' out the
+law--which don't matter nohow.”
+
+At this juncture Uncle Sammy's bent form emerged from the path that led
+off through the woods in the direction of the Bellamy cabin. With the
+patriarch was a stranger. Now the presence of a stranger on Scratch
+Hill was an occurrence of such extraordinary rarity that the warrant
+instantly became a matter of secondary importance.
+
+“Howdy, Charley. Here, Bob Yancy, you shake hands with Bruce
+Carrington,” commanded Uncle Sammy. At the name both Yancy and Balaam
+manifested a quickened interest. They saw a man in the early twenties,
+clean-limbed and broad-shouldered, with a handsome face and shapely
+head. “Yes, sir, hit's a grandson of Tom Carrington that used to own the
+grist-mill down at the Forks. Yo're some sort of wild-hog kin to him,
+Bob--yo' mother was a cousin to old Tom. Her family was powerful upset
+at her marrying a Yancy. They say Tom cussed himself into a 'pleptic fit
+when the news was fetched him.”
+
+“Where you located at, Mr. Carrington?” asked Yancy. But Carrington was
+not given a chance to reply. Uncle Sammy saved him the trouble.
+
+“Back in Kentucky. He tells me he's been follerin' the water. What's the
+name of that place where Andy Jackson fit the British?”
+
+“New Orleans,” prompted Carrington good naturedly.
+
+“That's hit--he takes rafts down the river to New Orleans, then he comes
+back on ships to Baltimore, or else he hoofs it no'th overland.” Uncle
+Sammy had acquired a general knowledge of the stranger's habits and
+pursuits in an incredibly brief space of time. “He wants to visit the
+Forks,” he added.
+
+“I'm shortly goin' that way myself, Mr. Carrington, and I'll be pleased
+of your company--but first I got to get through with Bob Yancy,” said
+Balaam, and again he produced the warrant. “If agreeable to you, Bob,
+I'll ask Uncle Sammy, as a third party friendly to both, to read this
+here warrant,” he said.
+
+“Who's been a-warrantin' Bob Yancy?” cried Uncle Sammy, with shrill
+interest.
+
+“Dave Blount has.”
+
+“I knowed hit--I knowed he'd try to get even!” And Uncle Sammy struck
+his walking-stick sharply on the packed earth of Yancy's dooryard.
+“What's the charge agin you, Bob?”
+
+“Read hit,” said Balaam. “Why, sho'--can't you read plain writin', Uncle
+Sammy?” for the patriarch was showing signs of embarrassment.
+
+“If you gentlemen will let me--” said Carrington pleasantly. Instantly
+there came a relieved chorus from the three in one breath.
+
+“Why, sure!”
+
+“Would my spectacles help you any, Mr. Carrington?” asked Uncle Sammy
+officiously.
+
+“No, I guess not.”
+
+“They air powerful seein' glasses, and I'm aweer some folks read a heap
+easier with spectacles than without 'em.” After a moment's scrutiny of
+the paper that Balaam had thrust in his hand, Carrington began:
+
+“To the Sheriff of the County of Cumberland: Greetings.”
+
+“He means me,” explained Balaam. “He always makes 'em out to the
+sheriff, but they are returned to me and I serve 'em.” Carrington
+resumed his reading,
+
+“Whereas, It is alleged that a murderous assault has been committed on
+one David Blount, of Fayetteville, by Robert Yancy, of Scratch Hill,
+said Blount sustaining numerous bruises and contusions, to his great
+injury of body and mind; and, whereas, it is further alleged that said
+murderous assault was wholly unprovoked and without cause, you will
+forthwith take into custody the person of said Yancy, of Scratch Hill,
+charged with having inflicted the bruises and contusions herein set
+forth in the complaint of said Blount, and instantly bring him into our
+presence to answer to these various and several crimes and misdemeanors.
+You are empowered to seize said Yancy wherever he may be at; whether on
+the hillside or in the valley, eating or sleeping, or at rest.
+
+           “De Lancy Balaam, Magistrate.
+
+“Fourth District, County of Cumberland, State of North Carolina. Done
+this twenty-fourth day of May, 1835.
+
+“P.S. Dear Bob: Dave Blount says he ain't able to chew his meat. I
+thought you'd be glad to know.”
+
+Smilingly Carrington folded the warrant and handed it to Yancy.
+
+“Well, what are you goin' to do about hit, Bob?” inquired Balaam.
+
+“Maybe I'd ought to go. I'd like to oblige the squire,” said Yancy.
+
+“When does this here co't set?” demanded Uncle Sammy.
+
+“Hit don't do much else since he's took with the lumbago,” answered
+Balaam somewhat obscurely.
+
+“How are the squire, Charley?” asked Yancy with grave concern.
+
+“Only just tolerable, Bob.”
+
+“What did he tell you to do?” and Yancy knit his brows.
+
+“Seems like he wanted me to find out what you'd do. He recommended I
+shouldn't use no violence.”
+
+“I wouldn't recommend you did, either,” assented Yancy, but without
+heat.
+
+“I'd get shut of this here law business, Bob,” advised Uncle Sammy.
+
+“Suppose I come to the Cross Roads this evening?”
+
+“That's agreeable,” said the deputy, who presently departed in company
+with Carrington.
+
+Some hours later the male population of Scratch Hill, with a gravity
+befitting the occasion, prepared itself to descend on the Cross Roads
+and give its support to Mr. Yancy in his hour of need. To this end those
+respectable householders armed themselves, with the idea that it might
+perhaps be necessary to correct some miscarriage of justice. They were
+shy enough and timid enough, these remote dwellers in the pine woods,
+but, like all wild things, when they felt they were cornered they were
+prone to fight; and in this instance it was clearly iniquitous that Bob
+Yancy's right to smack Dave Blount should be questioned. That denied
+what was left of human liberty. But beyond this was a matter of even
+greater importance: they felt that Yancy's possession of the boy was
+somehow involved.
+
+Yancy had declared himself simply but specifically on this point. Law
+or no law, he would kill whoever attempted to take the boy from him, and
+Scratch Hill believing to a man that in so doing he would be well within
+his rights, was prepared to join in the fray. Even Uncle Sammy, who
+had not been off the Hill in years, announced that no consideration
+of fatigue would keep him away from the scene of action and possible
+danger, and Yancy loaned him his mule and cart for the occasion. When
+the patriarch was helped to his seat in the ancient vehicle he called
+loudly for his rifle.
+
+“Why, pap, what do you want with a weapon?” asked his son indulgently.
+“If there air shootin' I may take a hand in it. Now you-all give me a
+fair hour's start with this mule critter of Bob's, and if nothin' busts
+I'll be at the squire's as soon as the best of you.”
+
+Uncle Sammy was given the time allowance he asked and then Scratch Hill
+wended its way down the path to the branch and the highroad. Yancy led
+the straggling procession, with the boy trotting by his side, his little
+sunburned fist clasped in the man's great hand. He, too, was armed.
+He carried the old spo'tin' rifle he had brought from the Barony, and
+suspended from his shoulder by a leather thong was the big horn flask
+with its hickory stopper his Uncle Bob had fashioned for him, while a
+deerskin pouch held his bullets and an extra flint or two. He understood
+that beyond those smacks he had seen his Uncle Bob fetch Mr. Blount, he
+himself was the real cause of this excitement, that somebody, it was
+not plain to his mind just who, was seeking to get him away from Scratch
+Hill, and that a mysterious power called the Law would sooner or later
+be invoked to this dread end. But he knew this much clearly, nothing
+would induce him to leave his Uncle Bob! And his thin little fingers
+nestled warmly against the man's hardened palm. Yancy looked down and
+gave him a sunny, reassuring smile.
+
+“It'll be all right, Nevvy,” he said gently.
+
+“You wouldn't let 'em take me, would you, Uncle Bob?” asked the child in
+a fearful whisper.
+
+“Such an idea ain't entered my head. And this here warranting is just
+some of Dave Blount's cussedness.”
+
+“Uncle Bob, what'll they do to you?”
+
+“Well, I reckon the squire'll feel obliged to do one of two things.
+He'll either fine me or else he won't.”
+
+“What'll you do if he fines you?”
+
+“Why, pay the fine, Nevvy--and then lick Dave Blount again for stirring
+up trouble. That's the way we most in general do. I mean to say give him
+a good licking, and that'll make him stop his foolishness.”
+
+“Wasn't that a good licking you gave him on the Ox Road, Uncle Bob?”
+ asked Hannibal.
+
+“It was pretty fair fo' a starter, but I'm capable of doing a better
+job,” responded Yancy.
+
+They overtook Uncle Sammy as he turned in at the squire's.
+
+“I thought I'd come and see what kind of law a body gets at this here
+co't of yours,” the patriarch explained to Mr. Balaam, who, forgetting
+his lumbago, had hurried forth to greet him.
+
+“But why did you fetch your gun, Uncle Sammy?” asked the magistrate,
+laughing.
+
+“Hit were to be on the safe side, Squire. Where air them Blounts?”
+
+“Them Blounts don't need to bother you none. There air only Dave, and he
+can't more than half see out of one eye to-day.”
+
+The squire's court held its infrequent sittings in the best room of the
+Balaam homestead, a double cabin of hewn logs. Here Scratch Hill was
+gratified with a view of Mr. Blount's battered visage, and it was
+conceded that his condition reflected creditably on Yancy's physical
+prowess and was of a character fully to sustain that gentleman's
+reputation; for while he was notoriously slow to begin a fight, he
+was reputed to be even more reluctant to leave off once he had become
+involved in one.
+
+“What's all this here fuss between you and Bob Yancy?” demanded the
+squire when he had administered the oath to Blount. Mr. Blount's
+statement was brief and very much to the point. He had been hired by Mr.
+Bladen, of Fayetteville, to go to Scratch Hill and get the boy who
+had been temporarily placed in Yancy's custody at the time of General
+Quintard's death.
+
+“Stop just there!” cried the magistrate, leveling a pudgy finger at
+Blount. “This here co't is already cognizant of certain facts bearing on
+that p'int. The boy was left with Bob Yancy mainly because nobody else
+would take him. Them's the facts. Now go on!” he finished sternly.
+
+“I only know what Bladen told me,” said Blount sullenly.
+
+“Well, I reckon Mr. Bladen ought to feel obliged to tell the truth,”
+ said the squire.
+
+“He done give me the order from the judge of the co't--I was to show it
+to Bob Yancy--”
+
+“Got that order?” demanded the squire sharply. With a smile, damaged,
+but clearly a smile, Blount produced the order. “Hmm--app'inted guardeen
+of the boy--” the squire was presently heard to murmur. The crowded room
+was very still now, and more than one pair of eyes were turned pityingly
+in Yancy's direction. When the long arm of the law reached out from
+Fayetteville, where there was a real judge and a real sheriff, it
+clothed itself with very special terrors. The boy looked up into Yancy's
+face. That tense silence had struck a chill through his heart.
+
+“It's all right,” whispered Yancy reassuringly, smiling down upon him.
+And Hannibal, comforted, smiled back, and nestled his head against his
+Uncle Bob's side.
+
+“Well, Mr. Blount, what did you do with this here order?” asked the
+squire.
+
+“I went with it to Scratch Hill,” said Blount.
+
+“And showed it to Bob Yancy?” asked the squire.
+
+“No, he wa'n't there. But the boy was, and I took him in my buggy and
+drove off. I'd got as far as the Ox Road forks when I met Yancy--”
+
+“What happened then?--but a body don't need to ask! Looks like the law
+was all you had on your side!” and the squire glanced waggishly about
+the room.
+
+“I showed Yancy the order--”
+
+“You lie, Dave Blount; you didn't!” said Yancy. “But I can't say as it
+would have made no difference, Squire. He'd have taken his licking just
+the same and I'd have had my nevvy out of that buggy!”
+
+“Didn't he say nothing about this here order from the colt, Bob?”
+
+“There wa'n't much conversation, Squire. I invited my nevvy to light
+down, and then I snaked Dave Blount out over the wheel.”
+
+“Who struck the first blow?”
+
+“He did. He struck at me with his buggy whip.”
+
+“What you got to say to this, Mr. Blount?” asked the squire.
+
+“I say I showed him the order like I said,” answered Blount doggedly.
+Squire Balaam removed his spectacles and leaned back in his chair.
+
+“It's the opinion of this here co't that the whole question of assault
+rests on whether Bob Yancy saw the order. Bob Yancy swears he didn't see
+it, while Dave Blount swears he showed it to him. If Bob Yancy didn't
+know of the existence of the order he was clearly actin' on the idea
+that Blount was stealin' his nevvy, and he done what any one would have
+done under the circumstances. If, on the other hand, he knowed of this
+order from the co't, he was not only guilty of assault, but he
+was guilty of resistin' an officer of the co't.” The squire paused
+impressively. His audience drew a long breath. The impression prevailed
+that the case was going against Yancy, and more than one face was turned
+scowlingly on the fat little justice.
+
+“Can a body drap a word here?” It was Uncle Sammy's thin voice that cut
+into the silence.
+
+“Certainly, Uncle Sammy. This here co't will always admire to listen to
+you.”
+
+“Well, I'd like to say that I consider that Fayetteville co't mighty
+officious with its orders. This part of the county won't take nothin'
+off Fayetteville! We don't interfere with Fayetteville, and blamed
+if we'll let Fayetteville interfere with us!” There was a murmur of
+approval. Scratch Hill remembered the rifles in its hands and took
+comfort.
+
+“The Fayetteville co't air a higher co't than this, Uncle Sammy,”
+ explained the squire indulgently.
+
+“I'm aweer of that,” snapped the patriarch. “I've seen hit's steeple.”
+
+“Air you finished, Uncle Sammy?” asked the squire deferentially.
+
+“I 'low I am. But I 'low that if this here case is goin' agin Bob Yancy
+I'd recommend him to go home and not listen to no mo' foolishness.”
+
+“Mr. Yancy will oblige this co't by setting still while I finish this
+case,” said the squire with dignity. “As I've already p'inted out, the
+question of veracity presents itself strongly to the mind of this here
+colt. Mr. Yancy has sworn to one thing, Mr. Blount to another. Now
+the Yancys air an old family in these parts; Mr. Blount's folks air
+strangers, but we don't know nothing agin them--”
+
+“And we don't know nothing in their favor,” Uncle Sammy interjected.
+
+“Dave's grandfather came here from Virginia about fifty years back and
+settled near Scratch Hill--”
+
+“We never knowed why he left Virginia or why he came here,” said Uncle
+Sammy, and knowing what local feeling was, was sure he had shot a
+telling bolt.
+
+“Then, about twenty-five years ago Dave's father pulled up and went to
+Fayetteville. Nobody ever knowed why--and I don't remember that he ever
+offered any explanation--” continued the squire.
+
+“He didn't--he just left,” said Uncle Sammy.
+
+“Consequently,” pursued the squire, somewhat vindictively, “we ain't had
+any time in which to form an opinion of the Blounts; but for myself, I'm
+suspicious of folks that keep movin' about and who don't seem able to
+get located permanent nowheres, who air here to-day and away tomorrow.
+But you can't say that of the Yancys. They air an old family in the
+country, and naturally this co't feels obliged to accept a Yancy's
+word before the word of a stranger. And in view of the fact that the
+defendant did not seek litigation, but was perfectly satisfied to let
+matters rest where they was, it is right and just that all costs should
+fall on the plaintiff.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE ENCOUNTER
+
+
+Betty Malroy had ridden into the squire's yard during the progress of
+the trial and when Yancy and Hannibal came from the house she beckoned
+the Scratch Hiller to her. She was aware that Mr. Yancy, moving along
+the line of least industrial resistance, might be counted of little
+worth in any broad scheme of life. Nat Ferris had strongly insisted
+on this point, as had Judith, who shared her husband's convictions;
+consequently, the rumors of his present difficulty had merely excited
+them to adverse criticism. They had been sure the best thing that could
+happen the boy would be his removal from Yancy's guardianship, but this
+was not at all her conclusion. She considered Mr. Bladen heartless and
+his course without justification, and she regarded Yancy's affection for
+the boy as in itself constituting a benefit that quite outweighed his
+unprogressive example.
+
+“You are not going to lose your nephew, are you, Mr. Yancy?” she asked
+eagerly, when Yancy stood at her side.
+
+“No, ma'am.” But his sense of elation was plainly tempered by the
+knowledge that for him the future held more than one knotty problem.
+
+“I am very glad! I know Hannibal will be much happier with you than with
+any one else,” and she smiled brightly at the boy, whose small sunburned
+face was upturned to hers.
+
+“I think that-a-ways myself, Miss Betty, but this trial was only for
+my smacking Dave Blount, who was trying to steal my nevvy,” explained
+Yancy.
+
+“I hope you smacked him well and hard!” said the girl, whose mood was
+warlike.
+
+“I ain't got no cause to complain, thank you,” returned Mr. Yancy
+pleasantly.
+
+“I rode out to the Hill to say good-by to Hannibal and to you, but they
+said you were here and that the trial was today.”
+
+Captain Murrell, with Crenshaw and the squire, came from the house, and
+Murrell's swarthy face lit up at sight of the girl. Yancy, sensible
+of the gulf that yawned between himself and what was known as “the
+quality,” would have yielded his place, but Betty detained him.
+
+“Are you going away, ma'am?” he asked with concern.
+
+“Yes--to my home in west Tennessee,” and a cloud crossed her smooth
+brow.
+
+“That surely is a right big distance for you to travel, ma'am,” said
+Yancy, his mind opening to this fresh impression. “I reckon it's rising
+a hundred miles or mo',” he concluded, at a venture.
+
+“It's almost a thousand.”
+
+“Think of that! And you are that ca'm!” cried Yancy admiringly, as a
+picture of simply stupendous effort offered itself to his mind's eye.
+He added: “I am mighty sorry you are going. We-all here shall miss
+you--specially Hannibal. He just regularly pines for Sunday as it is.”
+
+“I hope he will miss me a little--I'm afraid I want him to!” She glanced
+down at the boy as she spoke, and into her eyes, very clear and very
+blue and shaded by long dark lashes, stole a look of wistful tenderness.
+She noted how his little hand was clasped in Yancy's, she realized the
+perfect trust of his whole attitude toward this big bearded man, and she
+was conscious of a sudden feeling of profound respect for the Scratch
+Hiller.
+
+“But ain't you ever coming back, Miss Betty?” asked Hannibal rather
+fearfully, smitten with the awesome sense of impermanence which dogs our
+footsteps.
+
+“Oh, I hope so, dear--I wish to think so. But you see my home is not
+here.” She turned to Yancy, “So it is settled that he is to remain with
+you?”
+
+“Not exactly, Miss Betty. You see, there's an order from the
+Fayetteville co't fo' me to give him up to this man Bladen.”
+
+“But Uncle Bob says--” began Hannibal, who considered his Uncle Bob's
+remarks on this point worth quoting.
+
+“Never mind what yo' Uncle Bob said,” interrupted Yancy hastily.
+
+“Oh, Mr. Yancy, you are not going to surrender him--no matter what the
+court says!” cried Betty. The expression on Yancy's face was so grim and
+determined on the instant with the latent fire that was in him flashing
+from his eyes that she added quickly, “You know the law is for you as
+well as for Mr. Bladen!”
+
+“I reckon I won't bother the law none,” responded Yancy briefly. “Me and
+my nevvy will go back to Scratch Hill and there won't be no trouble
+so long as they leave us be. But them Fayetteville folks want to keep
+away--” The fierce light slowly died out of his eyes. “It'll be all
+right, ma'am, and it's mighty good and kind of you fo' to feel the way
+you do. I'm obliged to you.”
+
+But Betty was by no means sure of the outcome Yancy seemed to predict
+with such confidence. Unless Bladen abandoned his purpose, which he was
+not likely to do, a tragedy was clearly pending for Scratch Hill.
+She saw the boy left friendless, she saw Yancy the victim of his own
+primitive conception of justice. Therefore she said:
+
+“I wonder you don't leave the Hill, Mr. Yancy. You could so easily go
+where Mr. Bladen would never find you. Haven't you thought of this?”
+
+“That are a p'int,” agreed Yancy slowly. “Might I ask what parts you'd
+specially recommend?” lifting his grave eyes to hers.
+
+“It would really be the sensible thing to do!” said Betty. “I am sure
+you would like West Tennessee--they say you are a great hunter.” Yancy
+smiled almost guiltily.
+
+“I like a little spo't now and then yes, ma'am, I do hunt some,” he
+admitted.
+
+“Miss Betty, Uncle Bob's the best shot we got! You had ought to see him
+shoot!” said Hannibal.
+
+“Mr. Yancy, if you should cross the mountains, remember I live near
+Memphis. Belle Plain is the name of the plantation--it's not hard to
+find; just don't forget--Belle Plain.”
+
+“I won't forget, and mebby you will see us there one of these days.
+Sho', I've seen mighty little of the world--about as far as a dog can
+trot it a couple of hours!”
+
+“Just think what it will mean to Hannibal if you become involved further
+with Mr. Bladen.” Betty spoke earnestly, bending toward him, and Yancy
+understood the meaning that lay back of her words.
+
+“I've thought of that, too,” the Scratch Hiller answered seriously.
+Betty glanced toward the squire and Mr. Crenshaw. They were standing
+near the bars that gave entrance to the lane. Murrell had left them
+and was walking briskly down the road toward Crenshaw's store where his
+horse was tied. She bent down and gave Yancy her slim white hand.
+
+“Good-by, Mr. Yancy--lift Hannibal so that I can kiss him!” Yancy swung
+the child aloft. “I think you are such a nice little boy, Hannibal--you
+mustn't forget me!” And touching her horse lightly with the whip she
+rode away at a gallop.
+
+“She sho'ly is a lady!” said Yancy, staring after her. “And we mustn't
+forget Memphis or Belle Plain, Nevvy.”
+
+Crenshaw and the squire approached.
+
+“Bob,” said the merchant, “Bladen's going to have the boy--but he made
+a mistake in putting this business in the hands of a fool like Dave
+Blount. I reckon he knows that now.”
+
+“I reckon his next move will be to send a posse of gun-toters up from
+Fayetteville,” said the squire.
+
+“That's just what he'll do,” agreed Crenshaw, and looked disturbed.
+
+“They certainly air an unpeaceable lot--them Fayetteville folks! It's
+always seemed to me they had a positive spite agin this end of the
+county,” said the squire, and he pocketed his spectacles and refreshed
+himself with a chew of tobacco. “Bladen ain't actin' right, Bob. It's a
+year and upwards since the old general 'died. He let you go on thinking
+the boy was to stay with you and now he takes a notion to have him!”
+
+“No, sir, it ain't right nor reasonable. And what's more, he shan't have
+him!” said Yancy, and his tone was final.
+
+“I don't know what kind of a mess you're getting yourself into, Bob,
+I declare I don't!” cried Crenshaw, who felt that he was largely
+responsible for the whole situation.
+
+“Looks like your neighbors would stand by you,” suggested the squire.
+
+“I don't want them to stand by me. It'll only get them into trouble,
+and I ain't going to do that,” rejoined Yancy, and lapsed into momentary
+silence. Then he resumed meditatively, “There was old Baldy Ebersole who
+shot the sheriff when they tried to arrest him for getting drunk down in
+Fayetteville and licking the tavern-keeper--”
+
+“Sho', there wa'n't no harm in Baldy!” said the squire, with heat. “When
+that sheriff come along here looking for him, I told him p'inted that
+Baldy said he wouldn't be arrested. A more truthful man I never knowed,
+and if the damn fool had taken my word he'd be living yet!”
+
+“But you-all know what trouble killing that sheriff made fo' Baldy!”
+ said Yancy. “He told me often he regretted it mo' than anything he'd
+ever done. He said it was most aggravatin' having to always lug a gun
+wherever he went. And what with being suspicious of strangers when he
+wa'n't suspicious by nature, he reckoned in time it would just naturally
+wear him out.”
+
+“He stood it until he was risin' eighty,” said Crenshaw.
+
+“His, father lived to be ninety, John, and as spry an old gentleman as
+a body'd wish to see. I don't uphold no man for committing murder, but
+I do consider the sheriff should have waited on Baldy to get mo'
+reasonable, like he'd done in time if they'd just let him alone--but
+no, sir, he reckoned the law wa'n't no respecter of persons. He was a
+fine-appearin' man, that sheriff, and just elected to office. I remember
+we had to leave off the tail-gate to my cart to accommodate him. Yes,
+sir, they pretty near pestered Baldy into his grave--and seein' that
+pore old fellow pottering around year after year always toting a gun was
+the patheticest sight I most ever seen, and I made up my mind then if
+it ever seemed necessary for me to kill a man, I'd leave the county or
+maybe the state,” concluded the squire.
+
+“Don't you reckon it would be some better to leave the state afo' you.
+done the killing?” suggested Yancy.
+
+“Well, a man might. I don't know but what he'd be justified in getting
+shut of his troubles like that.”
+
+When Betty Malroy rode away from Squire Balaam's Murrell galloped
+after her. Presently she heard the beat of his horse's hoofs as he came
+pounding along the sandy road and glanced back over her shoulder. With
+an exclamation of displeasure she reined in her horse. She had not
+wished to ride to the Barony with him, yet she had no desire to treat
+him with discourtesy, especially as the Ferrises were disposed to like
+him. Murrell quickly gained a place at her side.
+
+“I suppose Ferris is at the Barony?” he said, drawing his horse down to
+a walk.
+
+“I believe he is,” said Betty with a curt little air.
+
+“May I ride with you?” he gave her a swift glance. She nodded
+indifferently and would have urged her horse into a gallop again, but
+he made a gesture of protest. “Don't--or I shall think you are still
+running away from me,” he said with a short laugh.
+
+“Were you at the trial?” she asked. “I am glad they didn't get Hannibal
+away from Yancy.”
+
+“Oh, Yancy will have his hands full with that later--so will Bladen,” he
+added significantly. He studied her out of those deeply sunken eyes of
+his in which no shadow of youth lingered, for men such as he reached
+their prime early, and it was a swiftly passing splendor. “Ferris tells
+me you are going to West Tennessee?” he said at length.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“I know your half-brother, Tom Ware--I know him very well.” There was
+another brief silence.
+
+“So you know Tom?” she presently observed, and frowned slightly. Tom was
+her guardian, and her memories of him were not satisfactory. A burly,
+unshaven man with a queer streak of meanness through his character.
+She had not seen him since she had been sent north to Philadelphia, and
+their intercourse had been limited to infrequent letters. His always
+smelled of strong, stale tobacco, and the well-remembered whine in the
+man's voice ran through his written sentences.
+
+“You've spent much of your time up North?” suggested Murrell.
+
+“Four years. I've been at school, you know. That's where I met Judith.”
+
+“I hope you'll like West Tennessee. It's still a bit raw compared with
+what you've been accustomed to in the North. You haven't been back in
+all those four years?” Betty shook her head. “Nor seen Tom--nor any one
+from out yonder?” For some reason a little tinge of color had crept into
+Betty's cheeks. “Will you let me renew our acquaintance at Belle Plain?
+I shall be in West Tennessee before the summer is over; probably I shall
+leave here within a week,” he said, bending toward her. His glance dwelt
+on her face and the pliant lines of her figure, and his sense swam.
+Since their first meeting the girl's beauty had haunted and allured
+him; with his passionate sense of life he was disposed to these
+violent fancies, and he had a masterful way with women just as he had
+a masterful way with men. Now, however, he was aware that he was viewed
+with entire indifference. His vanity, which was his whole inner self,
+was hurt, and from the black depths of his nature his towering egotism
+flashed out lawless and perverted impulses. “I must tell you that I am
+not of your sort, Miss Malroy--” he continued hurriedly. “My people were
+plain folk out of the mountains. For what I am I have no one to thank
+but myself. You must be aware of the prejudices of the planter class,
+for it is your class. Perhaps I haven't been quite frank at the
+Barony--I felt it was asking too much when you were there. That was a
+door I didn't want closed to me!”
+
+“I imagine you will be welcome at Belle Plain. You are Tom's friend.”
+ Murrell bit his lip, and then laughed as his mind conjured up a picture
+of the cherished Tom. Suddenly he reached out and rested his hand on
+hers. He lived in the shadow of chance not always kind, his pleasures
+were intoxicating drafts snatched in the midst of dangers, and here was
+youth, sweet and perfect, that only needed awakening.
+
+“Betty--if I might think--” he began, but his tongue stumbled. His
+love-making was usually of a savage sort, but some quality in the girl
+held him in check. The words he had spoken many times before forsook
+him. Betty drew away from him, an angry color on her cheeks and an angry
+light in her eyes. “Forgive me, Betty!” muttered Murrell, but his heart
+beat against his ribs, and passion sent its surges through him. “Don't
+you know what I'm trying to tell you?” he whispered. Betty gathered up
+her reins. “Not yet--” he cried, and again he rested a heavy hand on
+hers. “Don't you know what's kept me here? It was to be near you--only
+that--I've been waiting for this chance to speak. It was long in coming,
+but it's here now--and it's mine!” he exulted. His eyes burned with a
+luminous fire, he urged his horse nearer and they came to a halt. “Look
+here--I'll follow you North--I swear I love you--say I may!”
+
+“Let me go--let me go!” cried Betty indignantly.
+
+“No--not yet!” he urged his horse still nearer and gathered her close.
+“You've got to hear me. I've loved you since the first moment I rested
+my eyes on you--and, by God, you shall love me in return!” He felt her
+struggle to free herself from his grasp with a sense of savage triumph.
+It was the brute force within him that conquered with women just as it
+conquered with men.
+
+Bruce Carrington, on his way back to Fayetteville from the Forks, came
+about a turn in the road. Betty saw a tall, handsome fellow in the first
+flush of manhood; Carrington, an angry girl, very beautiful and very
+indignant, struggling in a man's grasp.
+
+At sight of the new-comer, Murrell, with an oath, released Betty, who,
+striking her horse with the whip galloped down the road toward the
+Barony. As she fled past Carrington she bent low in her saddle.
+
+“Don't let him follow me!” she gasped, and Carrington, striding forward,
+caught Murrell's horse by the bit.
+
+“Not so fast, you!” he said coolly. The two men glared at each other for
+a brief instant.
+
+“Take your hand off my horse!” exclaimed Murrell hoarsely, his mouth hot
+and dry with a sense of defeat.
+
+“Can't you see she'd rather be alone?” said Carrington.
+
+“Let go!” roared Murrell, and a murderous light shot from his eyes.
+
+“I don't know but I should pull you out of that saddle and twist your
+neck!” said Carrington hotly. Murrell's face underwent a swift change.
+
+“You're a bold fellow to force your way into a lover's quarrel,” he said
+quietly. Carrington's arm dropped at his side. Perhaps, after all,
+it was that. Murrell thrust his hand into his pocket. “I always give
+something to the boy who holds my horse,” he said, and tossed a coin in
+Carrington's direction. “There--take that for your pains!” he added. He
+pulled his horse about and rode back toward the cross-roads at an easy
+canter.
+
+Carrington, with an angry flush on his sunburnt cheeks, stood staring
+down at the coin that glinted in the dusty road, but he was seeing the
+face of the girl, indignant, beautiful--then he glanced after Murrell.
+
+“I reckon I ought to have twisted his neck,” he said with a deep breath.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. BETTY SETS OUT FOR TENNESSEE
+
+
+Bruce Carrington came of a westward-looking race. From the low coast
+where they had first settled, those of his name had followed the rivers
+to their headwaters. The headwaters had sent them forth toward the
+foot-hills, where they made their, clearings and built their cabins in
+the shadow of the blue wall that for a time marked the furthest goal of
+their desires. But only for a time. Crossing the mountains they found
+the headwaters once more, and following the streams out of the hills saw
+the roaring torrents become great placid rivers.
+
+Carrington's father had put the mountains at his back thirty years
+before. The Watauga settlements had furnished him a wife, and some
+four years later Bruce was born on the banks of the Ohio. The senior
+Carrington had appeared on horseback as a wooer, but had walked on foot
+as a married man, each shift of residence he made having represented
+a descent to a lower social level. On the death of his wife he had
+embarked in the river trade with all that enthusiasm and hope he had
+brought to half-a-dozen other occupations, for he was a gentleman of
+prodigious energy.
+
+Bruce's first memories had to do with long nights when he perched beside
+his father on the cabin roof of their keel-boat and watched the stars,
+or the blurred line of the shore where it lay against the sky, or the
+lights on other barges and rafts drifting as they were drifting, with
+their wheat and corn and whisky to that common market at the river's
+mouth.
+
+Sometimes they dragged their boat back up-stream, painfully,
+laboriously; three or four months of unremitting toil sufficed for this,
+when the crew sweated at the towing ropes from dawn until dark, that
+the rich planters in Kentucky and Tennessee might have tea and wine for
+their tables, and silks and laces for their womenfolk. More often
+they abandoned their boat and tramped north, armed and watchful, since
+cutthroats and robbers haunted the roads, and river-men, if they had not
+drunk away their last dollar in New Orleans, were worth spoiling. Or,
+if it offered, they took passage on some fast sailing clipper bound for
+Baltimore or Philadelphia, and crossed the mountains to the Ohio and
+were within a week or two of home.
+
+Bruce Carrington had seen the day of barge and raft reach its zenith,
+had heard the first steam packet's shrieking whistle which sounded the
+death-knell of the ancient order, though the shifting of the trade was
+a slow matter and the glory of the old did not pass over to the new at
+once, but lingered still in mighty fleets of rafts and keel-boats and
+in the Homeric carousals of some ten thousand of the half-horse,
+half-alligator breed that nightly gathered in New Orleans. Broad-horns
+and mud-sills they were called in derision. A strange race of aquatic
+pioneers, jeans and leather clad, the rifle and the setting-pole equally
+theirs, they came out of every stream down which a scow could be thrust
+at flood-time; from tiny settlements far back among the hills; from
+those bustling sinks of iniquity, the river towns. But now, surely, yet
+almost imperceptibly, their commerce was slipping from them. At all the
+landings they were being elbowed by the newcomers--men who wore brass
+buttons and gold braid, and shiny leather shoes instead of moccasins;
+men with white hands and gold rings on their fingers and diamonds in
+their shirts--men whose hair and clothing kept the rancid smell of oil
+and smoke and machinery.
+
+After the reading of the warrant that morning, Charley Balaam had shown
+Carrington the road to the Forks, assuring him when they separated that
+with a little care and decent use of his eyes it would be possible to
+fetch up there and not pass plumb through the settlement without knowing
+where he was. But Carrington had found the Forks without difficulty. He
+had seen the old mill his grandfather had built almost a hundred years
+before, and in the churchyard he had found the graves and read the
+inscriptions that recorded the virtues of certain dead and gone
+Carringtons. It had all seemed a very respectable link with the past.
+
+He was on his way to Fayetteville, where he intended to spend the night,
+and perhaps a day or two in looking around, when the meeting with
+Betty and Murrell occurred. As Murrell disappeared in the direction of
+Balaam's, Carrington took a spiteful kick at the unoffending coin, and
+strode off down the Fayetteville pike. But the girl's face remained with
+him. It was a face he would like to see again. He wondered who she was,
+and if she lived in the big house on the other road, the house beyond
+the red gate which Charley Balaam had told him was called the Barony.
+
+He was still thinking of the girl when he ate his supper that night
+at Cleggett's Tavern. Later, in the bar, he engaged his host in idle
+gossip. Mr. Cleggett knew all about the Barony and its owner, Nat
+Ferris. Ferris was a youngish man, just married. Carrington experienced
+a quick sinking of the heart. A fleeting sense of humor succeeded--had
+he interfered between man and wife? But surely if this had been the case
+the girl would not have spoken as she had.
+
+He wound Mr. Cleggett up with sundry pegs of strong New England rum. He
+had met a gentleman and lady on the road that day; he wondered, as he
+toyed with his glass, if it could have been the Ferrises? Mounted? Yes,
+mounted. Then it was Ferris and his wife--or it might have been Captain
+Murrell and Miss Malroy the captain was a strapping, black-haired chap
+who rode a big bay horse. Miss Malroy did not live in that part of
+the country; she was a friend of Mrs. Ferris', belonged in Kentucky or
+Tennessee, or somewhere out yonder--at any rate she was bringing her
+visit to an end, for Ferris had instructed him to reserve a place for
+her in the north-bound stage on the morrow.
+
+Carrington suddenly remembered that he had some thought of starting
+north in the morning himself, but he was still undecided. How about it
+if he deferred his decision until the stage was leaving? Mr. Cleggett
+consulted his bookings and was of the opinion that his chances would
+not be good; and Carrington hastily paid down his money. Later in the
+privacy of his own room he remarked meditatively, viewing his reflection
+in the mirror that hung above the chimneypiece, “I reckon you're plain
+crazy!” and seemed to free himself from all further responsibility for
+his own acts whatever they might be.
+
+The stage left at six, and as Carrington climbed to his seat the next
+morning Mr. Cleggett was advising the driver to look sharp when he
+came to the Barony road, as he was to pick up a party there. It was
+Carrington who looked sharp, and almost at the spot where he had seen
+Betty Malroy the day before he saw her again, with Ferris and Judith and
+a pile of luggage bestowed by the wayside. Betty did not observe him as
+the coach stopped, for she was intent on her farewells with her friends.
+There were hasty words of advice from Ferris, prolonged good-byes to
+Judith, tears--kisses--while a place was being made for her many boxes
+and trunks. Carrington viewed the luggage with awe, and listened without
+shame. He gathered that she was going north to Washington; that her
+final destination was some point either on the Ohio or Mississippi,
+and that her name was Betty. Then the door slammed and the stage was in
+motion again.
+
+Carrington felt sensibly enriched by the meager facts now in his
+possession. He was especially interested in her name. Be liked the
+sound of it. It suited her. He even tried it under his breath softly.
+Betty--Betty Malroy--next he fell to wondering if those few hurried
+words she had addressed to him could possibly be construed as forming a
+basis for a further acquaintance. Or wasn't it far more likely she would
+prefer to forget the episode of the previous day, which had clearly been
+anything but agreeable?
+
+All through the morning they swung forward in the heat and dust and
+glare, with now and then a brief pause when they changed horses, and at
+midday rattled into the shaded main street of a sleepy village and drew
+up before the tavern where dinner was waiting them--a fact that was
+announced by a bare-legged colored boy armed with a club, who beat upon
+a suspended wagon tire.
+
+Betty saw Carrington when she took her seat, and gave a scarcely
+perceptible start of surprise. Then her face was flooded with a rich
+color. This was the man who saw her with Captain Murrell yesterday I
+What must he think of her! There was a brief moment of irresolution and
+then she bowed coldly.
+
+“You just barely managed it. I reckon nobody could misunderstand that.
+By no means cordial--but of course not!” Carrington reflected. His own
+handsome face had been expressionless when he returned her bow, and
+Betty could not have guessed how consoled and comforted he was by it.
+With great fortitude and self-denial he forbore to look in her direction
+again, but he lingered at the table until the last moment that he might
+watch her when she returned to the coach. Mr. Carrington entertained
+ideals where women were concerned, and even though he had been the
+one to profit by it he would not have had Betty depart in the minutest
+particular from those stringent rules he laid down for her sex.
+Consequently that distant air she bore toward him filled him with
+satisfaction. It was quite enough for the present--for the present--that
+three times each day his perseverance and determination were rewarded by
+that curt little acknowledgment of her indebtedness to him.
+
+It was four days to Richmond. Four days of hot, dusty travel, four
+nights of uncomfortable cross-road stations, where Betty suffered
+sleepless nights and the unaccustomed pangs of early rising. She
+occasionally found herself wondering who Carrington was. She approved of
+the manner in which he conducted himself. She liked a man who could be
+unobtrusive. Traveling like that day after day it would have been so
+easy for him to be officious. But he never addressed her and refused
+to see any opportunity to assist her in entering or quitting the stage,
+leaving that to some one else. Presently she was sorry she had bowed
+to him that first day--so self-contained and unpresuming a person as he
+would evidently have been quite satisfied to overlook the omission.
+Then she began to be haunted by doubts. Perhaps, after all, he had not
+recognized her as the girl he had met in the road! This gave her a very
+queer feeling indeed--for what must he think of her? And the next time
+she bowed to this perfect stranger she threw a chilling austerity into
+the salutation quite at variance with her appearance, for the windy
+drive had tangled her hair and blown it in curling wisps about her face.
+This served to trouble Carrington excessively, and furnished him with
+food for reflection through all his waking moments for the succeeding
+eight and forty hours.
+
+The next morning he found himself seated opposite her at breakfast. He
+received another curt little nod, cool and distant, as he took his seat,
+but he felt strongly that a mere bowing acquaintance would no longer
+suffice; so he passed her a number of things she didn't want, and
+presently ventured the opinion that she must find traveling as they
+were, day after day, very fatiguing. Surprised at the sound of his
+voice, before she knew what she was doing, Betty said, “Not at all,”
+ closed her red lips, and was immediately dumb.
+
+Carrington at once relapsed into silence and ventured no further opinion
+on any topic. Betty was left wondering whether she had been rude, and
+when they met again asked if the stage would reach Washington at the
+advertised hour. She had been consulting the copy of Badger's and
+Porter's Register which Ferris had thrust into her satchel the morning
+she left the Barony, and which, among a multiplicity of detail as to
+hotels and taverns, gave the runnings of all the regular stage lines,
+packets, canal-boats and steamers, by which one could travel over
+the length and breadth of the land. “You stop in Washington?” said
+Carrington.
+
+Betty shook her head. “No, I am going on to Wheeling.”
+
+“You're fortunate in being so nearly home,” he observed. “I am going on
+to Memphis.” He felt it was time she knew this, or else she might think
+his movements were dictated by her own.
+
+Betty exclaimed: “Why, I am going to Memphis, too!”
+
+“Are you? By canal to Cumberland, and then by stage over the National
+Road to Wheeling?”
+
+Betty nodded. “It makes one wish they'd finish their railroads, doesn't
+it? Do you suppose they'll ever get as far west as Memphis?” she said.
+
+“They say it's going to be bad for the river trade when they're built
+on something besides paper,” answered Carrington. “And I happen to be a
+flatboat-man, Miss Malroy.”
+
+Betty gave him a glance of surprise.
+
+“Why, how did you learn my name?” she asked.
+
+“Oh, I heard your friends speak it,” he answered glibly. But Betty's
+smooth brow was puckered thoughtfully. She wondered if he had--and if he
+hadn't. It was very odd certainly that he should know it.
+
+“So the railroads are going to hurt the steamboats?” she presently said.
+
+“No, I didn't say that. I was thinking of the flatboats that have
+already been hurt by the steamers,” he replied. Now to the western mind
+the river-men typified all that was reckless and wild. It was their
+carousals that gave an evil repute to such towns as Natchez. But this
+particular river-man looked harmless. “Carrington is my name, Miss
+Malroy,” he added.
+
+No more was said just then, for Betty became reserved and he did not
+attempt to resume the conversation. A day later they rumbled into
+Washington, and as Betty descended from the coach, Carrington stepped to
+her side.
+
+“I suppose you'll stop here, Miss Malroy?” he said, indicating the
+tavern before which the stage had come to a stand. “Yes,” said Betty
+briefly.
+
+“If I can be of any service to you--” he began, with just a touch of
+awkwardness in his manner.
+
+“No, I thank you, Mr. Carrington,” said Betty quickly.
+
+“Good night... good-by,” he turned away, and Betty saw his tall form
+disappear in the twilight.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE FIGHT AT SLOSSON'S TAVERN
+
+
+Murrell had ridden out of the hills some hours back. He now faced the
+flashing splendors of a June sunset, but along the eastern horizon
+the mountains rose against a somber sky. Night was creeping into their
+fastnesses. Already there was twilight in those cool valleys lying
+within the shadow of mighty hills. A month and more had elapsed since
+Bob Yancy's trial. Just two days later man and boy disappeared from
+Scratch Hill. This had served to rouse Murrell to the need of immediate
+action, but he found, where Yancy was concerned, Scratch Hill could keep
+a secret, while Crenshaw's mouth was closed on any word that might throw
+light on the plans of his friend.
+
+“It's plain to my mind, Captain, that Bladen will never get the boy.
+I reckon Bob's gone into hiding with him,” said the merchant, with
+spacious candor.
+
+The fugitives had not gone into hiding, however; they had traversed
+the state from east to west, and Murrell was soon on their trail and
+pressing forward in pursuit. Reaching the mountains, he heard of them
+first as ten days ahead of him and bound for west Tennessee, the ten
+days dwindled to a week, the week became five days, the five days three;
+and now as he emerged from the last range of hills he caught sight of
+them. They were half a mile distant perhaps, but he was certain that the
+man and boy he saw pass about a turn in the road were the man and boy he
+had been following for a month.
+
+He was not mistaken. The man was Bob Yancy and the boy was Hannibal.
+Yancy had acted with extraordinary decision. He had sold his few acres
+at Scratch Hill for a lump sum to Crenshaw--it was to the latter's
+credit that the transaction was one in which he could feel no real pride
+as a man of business--and just a day later Yancy and the boy had
+quitted Scratch Hill in the gray dawn, and turned their faces westward.
+Tennessee had become their objective point, since here was a region to
+which they could fix a name, while the rest of the world was strange to
+them. As they passed the turn in the road where Murrell had caught
+his first sight of them, Yancy glanced back at the blue wall of the
+mountains where it lay along the horizon.
+
+“Well, Nevvy,” he said, “we've put a heap of distance between us and old
+Scratch Hill; all I can say is, if there's as much the other side of
+the Hill as there is this side, the world's a monstrous big place fo' to
+ramble about in.” He carried his rifle and a heavy pack. Hannibal had a
+much smaller pack and his old sporting rifle, burdens of which his Uncle
+Bob relieved him at brief intervals.
+
+For the past ten days their journey had been conducted in a leisurely
+fashion. As Yancy said, they were seeing the world, and it was well to
+take a good look at it while they had a chance. He was no longer fearful
+of pursuit and his temperament asserted itself--the minimum of activity
+sufficed. Usually they camped just where the night overtook them; now
+and then they varied this by lodging at some tavern, for since there
+was money in his pocket, Yancy was disposed to spend it. He could not
+conceive that it had any other possible use.
+
+Suddenly out of the silence came the regular beat of hoofs. These grew
+nearer and nearer, and at last when they were quite close, Yancy faced
+about. He instantly recognized Murrell and dropped his rifle into the
+crook of his arm. The act was instinctive, since there was no reason to
+believe that the captain had the least interest in the boy. Smilingly
+Murrell reined in his horse.
+
+“Why--Bob Yancy!” he cried, in apparent astonishment.
+
+“Yes, sir--Bob Yancy. Does it happen you are looking fo' him, Captain?”
+ inquired Yancy.
+
+“No--no, Bob. I'm on my way West. Shake hands.” His manner was frank and
+winning, and Yancy met it with an equal frankness.
+
+“Well, sir, me and my nevvy are glad to meet some one we've knowed
+afore. The world are a lonesome place once you get shut of yo'r own
+dooryard,” he said. Murrell slipped from his saddle and fell into step
+at Yancy's side as they moved forward.
+
+“They were mightily stirred up at the Cross Roads when I left, wondering
+what had come of you,” he observed.
+
+“When did you quit there?” asked Yancy.
+
+“About a fortnight ago,” said Murrell. “Every one approves of your
+action in this matter, Yancy,” he went on.
+
+“That's kind of them,” responded Yancy, a little dryly. There was no
+reason for it, but he was becoming distrustful of Murrell, and uneasy.
+
+“Bladen's hurt himself by the stand he's taken it this matter,” Murrell
+added.
+
+They went forward in silence, Yancy brooding and suspicious. For the
+last mile or so their way had led through an unbroken forest, but
+a sudden turn in the road brought them to the edge of an extensive
+clearing. Close to the road were several buildings, but not a tree had
+been spared to shelter them and they stood forth starkly, the completing
+touch to a civilization that was still in its youth, unkempt, rather
+savage, and ruthlessly utilitarian. A sign, the work of inexpert hands,
+announced the somewhat dingy structure of hewn logs that stood nearest
+the roadside a tavern. There was a horse rack in front of it and a
+trampled space. It was flanked by its several sheds and barns on one
+hand and a woodpile on the other. Beyond the woodpile a rail fence
+inclosed a corn-field, and beyond the barns and sheds a similar fence
+defined the bounds of a stumpy pasture-lot.
+
+From the door of the tavern the figure of a man emerged. Pausing by the
+horse rack he surveyed the two men and boy, if not with indifference, at
+least with apathy. Just above his head swung the sign with its legend,
+“Slosson--Entertainment”; but if he were Slosson, one could take the last
+half of the sign either as a poetic rhapsody on the part of the painter,
+or the yielding to some meaningless convention, for in his person,
+Mr. Slosson suggested none of those qualities of brain or heart that
+trenched upon the lighter amenities of life. He was black-haired and
+bull-necked, and there was about him a certain shagginess which a recent
+toilet performed at the horse trough had not served to mitigate.
+
+“Howdy?” he drawled.
+
+“Howdy?” responded Mr. Yancy.
+
+“Shall you stop here?” asked Murrell, sinking his voice. Yancy nodded.
+“Can you put us up?” inquired Murrell, turning to the tavern-keeper.
+
+“I reckon that's what I'm here for,” said Slosson. Murrell glanced about
+the empty yard. “Slack,” observed Slosson languidly. “Yes, sir, slack's
+the only name for it.” It was understood he referred to the state of
+trade. He looked from one to the other of the two men. As his eyes
+rested on Murrell, that gentleman raised the first three fingers of
+his right hand. The gesture was ever so little, yet it seemed to have a
+tonic effect on Mr. Slosson. What might have developed into a smile had
+he not immediately suppressed it, twisted his bearded lips as he made
+an answering movement. “Eph, come here, you!” Slosson raised his voice.
+This call brought a half-grown black boy from about a corner of the
+tavern, to whom Murrell relinquished his horse.
+
+“Let's liquor,” said the captain over his shoulder, moving off in the
+direction of the bar.
+
+“Come on, Nevvy!” said Yancy following, and they all entered the tavern.
+
+“Well, here's to the best of good luck!” said Murrell, as he raised his
+glass to his lips.
+
+“Same here,” responded Yancy. Murrell pulled out a roll of bills, one of
+which he tossed on the bar. Then after a moment's hesitation he detached
+a second bill from the roll and turned to Hannibal.
+
+“Here, youngster--a present for you;” he said good-naturedly. Hannibal,
+embarrassed by the unexpected gift, edged to his Uncle Bob's side.
+
+“Ain't you-all got nothing to say to the gentleman?” asked Yancy.
+
+“Thank you, sir,” said the boy.
+
+“That sounds a heap better. Let's see--why, if it ain't ten
+dollars--think of that!” said Yancy, in surprise.
+
+“Let's have another drink,” suggested Murrell.
+
+Presently Hannibal stole out into the yard. He still held the bill in
+his hand, for he did not quite know how to dispose of his great wealth.
+After debating this matter for a moment he knotted it carefully in one
+corner of his handkerchief. But this did not quite suit him, for he
+untied the knot and looked at the bill again, turning it over and over
+in his hand. Then he folded it carefully into the smallest possible
+compass and once more tied a corner of his handkerchief about it, this
+time with two knots instead of one; these he afterward tested with his
+teeth.
+
+“I 'low she won't come undone now!” he said, with satisfaction. He
+stowed the handkerchief away in his trousers pocket, ramming it very
+tight with his fist. He was much relieved when this was done, for
+wearing a care-free air he sauntered across the yard and established
+himself on the top rail of the corn-field fence.
+
+The colored boy, armed with an ax, appeared at the woodpile and began to
+chop in the desultory fashion of his race, pausing every few seconds to
+stare in the direction of his white compatriot, who met his glance
+with reserve. Whereupon Mr. Slosson's male domestic indulged in certain
+strange antics that were not rightly any part of woodchopping. This yet
+further repelled Hannibal.
+
+“The disgustin' chattel!” he muttered under his breath, quoting his
+Uncle Bob, with whom, in theory at least, race feeling was strong. Yancy
+appeared at the door of the bar and called to him, and as the boy slid
+from the fence and ran toward him across the yard, the Scratch Hiller
+sauntered forth to meet him.
+
+“I reckon it's all right, Nevvy,” he said, “but we don't know nothing
+about this here Captain Murrell--as he calls himself--though he seems a
+right clever sort of gentleman; but we won't mention Belle Plain.” With
+this caution he led the way into the tavern and back through the bar to
+a low-ceilinged room where Murrell and Slosson were already at table. It
+was intolerably hot, and there lingered in the heavy atmosphere of the
+place stale and unappetizing odors. Only Murrell attempted conversation
+and he was not encouraged; and presently silence fell on the room
+except for the rattle of dishes and the buzzing of flies. When they had
+finished, the stale odors and the heat drove them quickly into the bar
+again, where for a little time Hannibal sat on Yancy's knee, by the
+door. Presently he slipped down and stole out into the yard.
+
+The June night was pulsing with life. Above him bats darted in short
+circling flights. In the corn-field and pasture-lot the fireflies lifted
+from their day-long sleep, showing pale points of light in the half
+darkness, while from some distant pond or stagnant watercourse came the
+booming of frogs, presently to swell into a resonant chorus. These were
+the summer night sounds he had known as far back as his memory went.
+
+In the tavern the three men were drinking--Murrell with the idea that
+the more Yancy came under the influence of Slosson's corn whisky the
+easier his speculation would be managed. Mr. Yancy on his part believed
+that if Murrell went to bed reasonably drunk he would sleep late and
+give him the opportunity he coveted, to quit the tavern unobserved at
+break of day. Gradually the ice of silence which had held them mute at
+supper, thawed. At first it was the broken lazy speech of men who were
+disposed to quiet, then the talk became brisk--a steady stream of rather
+dreary gossip of horses and lands and negroes, of speculations past and
+gone in these great staples.
+
+Hannibal crossed to the corn-field. There, in the friendly gloom, he
+examined his handkerchief and felt of the rolled-up bill. Then he made
+count of certain silver and copper coins which he had in his other
+pocket. Satisfied that he had sustained no loss, he again climbed to the
+top rail of the fence where he seated himself with an elbow resting on
+one knee and his chin in the palm of his hand.
+
+“I got ten dollars and seventy cents--yes, sir--and the clostest
+shooting rifle I ever tossed to my shoulder.” He seemed but small to
+have accomplished such a feat. He meditated for a little space. “I
+reckon when we strike the settlements again I should like to buy my
+Uncle Bob a present.” With knitted brows he considered what this should
+be, canvassing Yancy's needs. He had about decided on a ring such as
+Captain Murrell was wearing, when he heard the shuffling of bare feet
+over the ground and a voice spoke out of the darkness.
+
+“When yo' get to feelin' like sleep, young boss, Mas'r Slosson he says I
+show yo' to yo' chamber.” It was Slosson's boy Eph.
+
+“Did you-all happen to notice what they're doing in the tavern now?”
+ asked Hannibal.
+
+“I low they're makin' a regular hog-killin' of it,” said Eph smartly.
+Hannibal descended from the fence.
+
+“Yes, you can show me my chamber,” he said, and his tone was severe.
+What a white man did was not a matter for a black man to criticize. They
+went toward the open door of the tavern. Mr. Slosson's corn whisky had
+already wrought a marked transformation in the case of Slosson himself.
+His usually terse speech was becoming diffuse and irrelevant, while
+vacant laughter issued from his lips. Yancy was apparently unaffected
+by the good cheer of which he had partaken, but Murrell's dark face
+was flushed. The Scratch Hiller's ability to carry his liquor exceeded
+anything he had anticipated.
+
+“You-all run along to bed, Nevvy,” said Yancy, as Hannibal entered the
+room. “I'll mighty soon follow you.”
+
+Eph secured a tin candle-stick with a half-burnt candle in it and led
+the way into the passage back of the bar.
+
+“Mas'r Slosson's jus' mo' than layin' back!” he said, as he closed the
+door after them.
+
+“I reckon you-all will lay back, too, when you get growed up,” retorted
+Hannibal.
+
+“No, sir, I won't. White folks won't let a nigger lay back. Onliest time
+a nigger sees co'n whisky's when he's totin' it fo' some one else.”
+
+“I reckon a nigger's fool enough without corn whisky,” said Hannibal.
+They mounted a flight of stairs and passed down a narrow hall. This
+brought them to the back of the building, and Eph pushed open the door
+on his right.
+
+“This heah's yo' chamber,” he said, and preceding his companion into the
+room, placed the candle on a chair.
+
+“Well--I low I clean forgot something!” cried Hannibal.
+
+“If it's yo' bundle and yo' gun, I done fotched 'em up heah and laid 'em
+on yo' bed,” said Eph, preparing' to withdraw.
+
+“I certainly am obliged to you,” said Hannibal, and with a good night,
+Eph retired, closing the door after him, and the boy heard the patter of
+his bare feet as he scuttled down the hall.
+
+The moon was rising and Hannibal went to the open window and glanced
+out. His room overlooked the back yard of the inn and a neglected truck
+patch. Starting from a point beyond the truck patch and leading straight
+away to the woodland beyond was a fenced lane, with the corn-field and
+the pasture-lot on either hand. Immediately below his window was the
+steeply slanting roof of a shed. For a moment he considered the night,
+not unaffected by its beauty, then, turning from the window, he moved
+his bundle and rifle to the foot of the bed, where they would be out of
+his way, kicked off his trousers, blew out the candle and lay down. The
+gossip of the men in the bar ran like a whisper through the house, and
+with it came frequent bursts of noisy laughter. Listening for these
+sounds the boy dozed off.
+
+Yancy had become more and more convinced as the evening passed that
+Murrell was bent on getting him drunk, and suspicion mounted darkly to
+his brain. He felt certain that he was Bladen's agent. Now, Mr. Yancy
+took an innocent pride in his ability to “cool off liquor.” Perhaps it
+was some heritage from a well living ancestry that had hardened its head
+with Port and Madeira in the days when the Yancys owned their acres and
+their slaves. Be that as it may, he was equal to the task he had set
+himself. He saw with satisfaction the flush mount to Murrell's swarthy
+cheeks, and felt that the limit of his capacity was being reached.
+Mr. Slosson had become a sort of Greek chorus. He anticipated all the
+possible phases of drunkenness that awaited his companions. He went from
+silence to noisy mirth, when his unmeaning laughter rang through the
+house; he told long witless stories as he leaned against the bar; he
+became melancholy and described the loss of his wife five years before.
+From melancholy he passed to sullenness and seemed ready to fasten a
+quarrel on Yancy, but the latter deftly evaded any such issue.
+
+“What you-all want is another drink,” he said affably. “With all you
+been through you need a tonic, so shove along that extract of cornshucks
+and molasses!”
+
+“I'm a rip-staver,” said Slosson thickly. “But I've knowed enough sorrow
+to kill a horse.”
+
+“You have that look. Captain, will you join us?” asked Yancy. Murrell
+shook his head, but he made a significant gesture to Slosson as Yancy
+drained his glass.
+
+“Have a drink with me!” cried Slosson, giving way to drunken laughter.
+
+“Don't you reckon you'll spite yo' appetite fo' breakfast, neighbor?”
+ suggested Yancy.
+
+“Do you mean you won't drink with me?” roared Slosson.
+
+“The captain's dropped out and I 'low it's about time fo' these here
+festivities to come to an end. I'm thinking some of going to bed
+myself,” said Yancy. He kept his eyes fixed on Murrell. He realized
+that if the latter could prevent it he was not to leave the bar. Murrell
+stood between him and the door; more than this, he stood between him and
+his rifle, which leaned against the wall in the far corner of the room.
+Slosson roared out a protest to his words. “That's all right, neighbor,”
+ retorted Yancy over his shoulder, “but I'm going to bed.” He never
+shifted his glance from Murrell's face. Scowling now, the captain's eyes
+blazed back their challenge as he thrust his right hand under his coat.
+“Fair play--I don't know who you are, but I know what you want!” said
+Yancy, the light in his frank gray eyes deepening. Murrell laughed and
+took a forward step. At the same moment Slosson snatched up a heavy club
+from back of the bar and dealt Yancy a murderous blow. A single startled
+cry escaped the Scratch Hitler; he struck out wildly as he lurched
+toward Murrell, who drew his knife and drove it into his shoulder.
+
+Groping wildly, Yancy reached his rifle and faced about. His scalp
+lay open where Slosson's treacherous blow had fallen and his face was
+covered with blood; even as his fingers stiffened they found the hammer,
+but Murrell, springing forward, kicked the gun out of his hands. Dashing
+the blood from his eyes, Yancy threw himself on Murrell. Then, as
+they staggered to and fro, Yancy dully bent on strangling his enemy,
+Slosson--whom the sight of blood had wonderfully sobered--rushed out
+from the bar and let loose a perfect torrent of blows with his club.
+Murrell felt the fingers that gripped him grow weak, and Yancy dropped
+heavily to the floor.
+
+
+How long the boy slept he never knew, but he awoke with a start and a
+confused sense of things. He seemed to have heard a cry for help. But
+the tavern was very silent now. The distant murmur of voices and the
+shouts of laughter had ceased. He lifted himself up on his elbow
+and glanced from the window. The heavens were pale and gray. It was
+evidently very late, probably long after midnight but where was his
+Uncle Bob?
+
+He sank back on his pillow intent and listening. What he had heard, what
+he still expected to hear, he could not have told, but he was sure he
+had been roused by a cry of some sort. A chilling terror that gripped
+him fast and would not let him go, mounted to his brain. Once he thought
+he heard cautious steps beyond his door. He could not be certain, yet
+he imagined the bull-necked landlord standing with his ear to some crack
+seeking to determine whether or not he slept. His thin little body grew
+rigid and a cold sweat started from him. He momentarily expected the
+latch to be lifted, then in the heavy silence he caught the sound of
+some stealthy movement beyond the lath and plaster partition, and an
+instant later an audible footfall. He heard the boards creak and give,
+as the person who had been standing before his door passed down the
+hall, down the stairs, and to the floor below.
+
+Limp and shivering, he drew his scanty covering tight about him. In the
+silence that succeeded, he once more became aware of the tireless
+chorus of the frogs, the hooting of the owls, and the melancholy and
+oft-repeated call of the whippoorwill. But where was his Uncle Bob? Why
+didn't he come to bed? And whose was that cry for help he had heard?
+Memories of idle tales of men foully dealt with in these lonely taverns,
+of murderous landlords, and mysterious guests who were in league with
+them, flashed through his mind.
+
+Murrell had followed them for this--and had killed his Uncle Bob, and
+he would be sent back to Bladen! The law had said that Bladen could
+have him and that his Uncle Bob must give him up. The law put men in
+prison--it hanged them sometimes--his Uncle Bob had told him all about
+it--by the neck with ropes until they were dead! Maybe they wouldn't
+send him back; maybe they would do with him what they had already done
+with his Uncle Bob; he wanted the open air, the earth under his feet,
+and the sky over his head. The four walls stifled him. He was not afraid
+of the night, he could run and hide in it--there were the woods and
+fields where he would be safe.
+
+He slid from the bed, and for a long moment stood cold and shaking, his
+every sense on the alert. With infinite caution he got into his trousers
+and again paused to listen, since he feared his least movement might
+betray him. Reassured, he picked up his battered hat from the floor and
+inch by inch crept across the squeaking boards to the window. When the
+window was reached he paused once more to listen, but the quiet that was
+everywhere throughout the house gave him confidence. He straddled the
+low sill, and putting out his hand gripped the stock of his rifle and
+drew that ancient weapon toward him. Next he secured his pack, and was
+ready for flight.
+
+Encumbered by his belongings, but with no mind to sacrifice them, he
+stepped out upon the shed and made his way down the slant of the roof
+to the eaves. He tossed his bundle to the ground and going down on his
+knees lowered his rifle, letting the muzzle fall lightly against the
+side of the shed as it left his hand, then he lay flat on his stomach
+and, feet first, wriggled out into space. When he could no longer
+preserve his balance, he gave himself a shove away from the eaves and
+dropped clear of the building.
+
+As he recovered himself he was sure he heard a door open and close, and
+threw himself prone on the ground, where the black shadow cast by the
+tavern hid him. At the same moment two dark figures came from about a
+corner of the building. He could just distinguish that they carried
+some heavy burden between them and that they staggered as they moved.
+He heard Slosson curse drunkenly, and a whispered word from Murrell. The
+two men slowly crossed the truck patch, and the boy's glance followed
+them, his eyes starting from his head. Just at the mouth of the lane
+they paused and put down their burden; a few words spoken in a whisper
+passed between them and they began to drag some dark thing down the
+lane, their backs bent, their heads bowed and the thing they dragged
+bumping over the uneven ground.
+
+They passed out of sight, and breathless and palsied, Hannibal crept
+about a corner of the tavern. He must be sure! The door of the bar stood
+open; the lamps were still burning, and the upturned chairs and a broken
+table told of the struggle that had taken place there. The boy rested
+his hand on the top step as he stared fearfully into the room. His palm
+came away with a great crimson splotch. But he was not satisfied yet.
+He must be sure--sure! He passed around the building as the men had
+done and crossed the truck patch to the mouth of the lane. Here he slid
+through the fence into the corn-field, and, well sheltered, worked his
+way down the rows. Presently he heard a distant sound--a splash--surely
+it was a splash--.
+
+A little later the men came up the lane, to disappear in the direction
+of the tavern. Hannibal peered after them. His very terrors, while they
+wrenched and tortured him, gave him a desperate kind of courage. As
+the gloom hid the two men, he started forward again; he must know the
+meaning of that sound--that splash, if it was a splash. He reached the
+end of the cornfield, climbed the fence, and entered a deadening of
+slashed and mutilated timber. In the long wet grass he found where the
+men had dragged their burden. He reached down and swept his hand to
+and fro--once--twice--the third time his little palm came away red and
+discolored.
+
+There was the first pale premonition of dawn in the sky, and as he
+hurried on the light grew, and the black trunks of trees detached
+themselves from the white mist that filled the woods and which the
+dawn made visible. There was light enough for him to see that he was
+following the trail left by the men; he could distinguish where the dew
+had been brushed from the long grass. Advancing still farther, he heard
+the clear splash of running water, an audible ripple that mounted into
+a silver cadence. Day was breaking now. The lifeless gray along the
+eastern horizon had changed to orange. Still following the trail, he
+emerged upon the bank of the Elk River, white like the woods with its
+ghostly night sweat.
+
+The dull beat of the child's heart quickened as he gazed out on the
+swift current that was hurrying on with its dreadful secret. Then
+the full comprehension of his loss seemed to overwhelm him and he was
+utterly desolate. Sobs shook him, and he dropped on his knees, holding
+fast to the stock of his rifle.
+
+“Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob, come back! Can't you come back!” he wailed
+miserably. Presently he staggered to his feet. Convulsive sobs still
+wrenched his little body. What was he to do? Those men--his Uncle Bob's
+murderers--would go to his room; they would find his empty bed and their
+search for him would begin! Not for anything would he have gone back
+through the corn-field or the lane to the road. He had the courage to
+go forward, but not to retrace his steps; and the river, deep and
+swift, barred his path. As he glanced about, he saw almost at his feet a
+dug-out, made from a single poplar log. It was secured to an overhanging
+branch by a length of wild grape-vine. With one last fearful look off
+across the deadening in the direction of the tavern, he crept down to
+the water's edge and entered the canoe. In a moment, he had it free from
+its lashing and the rude craft was bumping along the bank in spite of
+his best efforts with the paddle. Then a favoring current caught it and
+swept it out toward the center of the stream.
+
+It was much too big and clumsy for him to control without the stream's
+help, though he labored doggedly with his paddle. Now he was broadside
+to the current, now he was being spun round and round, but always he
+was carried farther and farther from the spot where he had embarked. He
+passed about a bend; and a hundred yards beyond, about a second bend;
+then the stream opened up straight before him a half-mile of smooth
+running water. Far down it, at the point where the trees met in the
+unbroken line of the forest and the water seemed to vanish mysteriously,
+he could distinguish a black moving object; some ark or raft, doubtless.
+
+In the smoother water of the long reach, Hannibal began to make head
+against the flood. The farther shore became the nearer, and finally he
+drove the bow of his canoe up on a bit of shelving bank, and seizing
+his pack and rifle, sprang ashore. Panting and exhausted, he paused just
+long enough to push the canoe out into the stream again, and then, with
+his rifle and pack in his hands, turned his small tear-stained face
+toward the wooded slope beyond. As he toiled up it in the wide silence
+of the dawn, a mournful wind burst out of the north, filling the air
+about him with withered leaves and the dead branches of trees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. ON THE RIVER
+
+
+Betty stood under a dripping umbrella in the midst of a drenching
+downpour, her boxes and trunks forming a neat pyramid of respectable
+size beside her. She was somewhat perturbed in spirit, since they
+contained much elaborate finery all in the very latest eastern fashion,
+spoils that were the fruit of a heated correspondence with Tom, who
+hadn't seemed at all alive to the fact that Betty was nearly eighteen
+and in her own right a young woman of property. A tarpaulin had been
+thrown over the heap, and with one eye on it and the other on the
+stretch of yellow canal up which they were bringing the fast packet
+Pioneer, she was waiting impatiently to see her belongings transferred
+to a place of safety.
+
+Just arrived by the four-horse coach that plyed regularly between
+Washington and Georgetown, she had found the long board platform beside
+the canal crowded with her fellow passengers, their number augmented
+by those who delight to share vicariously in travel and to whom the
+departure of a stage or boat was a matter of urgent interest requiring
+their presence, rain or shine. Suddenly she became aware of a tall,
+familiar figure moving through the crowd. It was Bruce Carrington. At
+the same moment he saw her, and with a casual air that quite deceived
+her, approached; and Betty, who had been feeling very lonely and very
+homesick, was somehow instantly comforted at sight of him. She welcomed
+him almost as a friend.
+
+“You're leaving to-night?” he asked.
+
+“Yes--isn't it miserable the way it rains? And why are they so slow--why
+don't they hurry with that boat?”
+
+“It's in the last lock now,” explained Carrington.
+
+“My clothes will all be ruined,” said Betty. He regarded the dress she
+wore with instant concern. “No--I mean the things in my trunks; this
+doesn't matter,” and Betty nodded toward the pile under the steaming
+tarpaulin. Carrington's dark eyes opened with an expression of mild
+wonder. And so those trunks were full of clothes--Oh, Lord!--he looked
+down at the flushed, impatient face beside him with amusement.
+
+“I'll see that they are taken care of,” he said, for the boat was
+alongside the platform now; and gathering up Betty's hand luggage, he
+helped her aboard.
+
+By the time they had reached Wheeling, Betty had quite parted with
+whatever superficial prejudice she might have had concerning river-men.
+This particular one was evidently a very nice river-man, an exception
+to his kind. She permitted him to assume the burden of her plans, and
+no longer scanned the pages of her Badger's and Porter's with a puckered
+brow. It reposed at the bottom of her satchel. He made choice of the
+steamer on which she should continue her journey, and thoughtfully chose
+The Naiad--a slow boat, with no reputation for speed to sustain. It
+meant two or three days longer on the river, but what of that? There
+would be no temptation in the engine-room to attach a casual wrench or
+so to the safety-valve as an offset to the builder's lack of confidence
+in his own boilers. He saw to it that her state-room was well
+aft--steamers had a trick of blowing up forward.
+
+Ne had now reached a state of the utmost satisfaction with himself and
+the situation. Betty was friendly and charming. He walked with her, and
+he talked with her by the hour; and always he was being entangled deeper
+and deeper in the web of her attraction. “When alone he would pace the
+deck recalling every word she had spoken. There was that little air
+of high breeding which was Betty's that fascinated him. He had known
+something of the other sort, those who had arrived at prosperity with
+manners and speech that still reflected the meaner condition from which
+they had risen.
+
+“I haven't a thing to offer her--this is plain madness of mine!” he kept
+telling himself, and then the expression of his face would become grim
+and determined. No more of the river for him--he'd get hold of some land
+and go to raising cotton; that was the way money was made.
+
+Slow as The Naiad was, the days passed much too swiftly for him. When
+Memphis was reached their friendly intercourse would come to an end.
+There would be her brother, of whom she had occasionally spoken--he
+would be pretty certain to have the ideas of his class.
+
+As for Betty, she liked this tall fellow who helped her through the
+fatigue of those long days, when there was only the unbroken sweep of
+the forest on either hand, with here and there a clearing where some
+outrageous soul was making a home for himself. The shores became duller,
+wilder, more uninteresting as they advanced, and then at last they
+entered the Mississippi, and she was almost home.
+
+Betty was not unexcited by the prospect. She would be the mistress of
+the most splendid place in West Tennessee. She secretly aspired to be a
+brilliant hostess. She could remember when the doors of Belle Plain
+were open to whoever had the least claim to distinction--statesmen
+and speculators in land; men who were promoting those great schemes of
+improvement, canals and railroads; hard-featured heroes of the two
+wars with England--a diminishing group; the men of the modern army, the
+pathfinders, and Indian fighters, and sometimes a titled foreigner. She
+wondered if Tom had maintained the traditions of the place. She found
+that Carrington had heard of Belle Plain. He spoke of it with respect,
+but with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm, for how could he feel
+enthusiasm when he must begin his chase after fortune with bare
+hands?--he suffered acutely whenever it was mentioned. The days, like
+any other days, dwindled. The end of it all was close at hand. Another
+twenty-four hours and Carrington reflected there would only be good-by
+to say.
+
+“We will reach New Madrid to-night,” he told her. They were watching the
+river, under a flood of yellow moonlight.
+
+“And then just another day--Oh, I can hardly wait!” cried Betty
+delightedly. “Soon I shall hope to see you at Belle Plain, Mr.
+Carrington,” she added graciously.
+
+“Thank you, your--your family--” he hesitated.
+
+“There's only just Tom--he's my half-brother. My mother was left a widow
+when I was a baby. Later, some years after, she married Tom's father.”
+
+“Oh--then he's not even your half-brother?”
+
+“He's no relation at all--and much older. When Tom's father died my
+mother made Tom, manager, and still later he was appointed my guardian.”
+
+“Then you own Belle Plain?” and Carrington sighed.
+
+“Yes. You have never seen it?--it's right on the river, you know?” then
+Betty's face grew sober: “Tom's dreadfully queer--I expect he'll require
+a lot of managing!”
+
+“I reckon you'll be equal to that!” said-Carrington, convinced of
+Betty's all-compelling charm.
+
+“No, I'm not at all certain about Tom--I can see where we shall have
+serious differences; but then, I shan't have to struggle single-handed
+with him long; a cousin of my mother's is coming to Belle Plain to
+make her home with me--she'll make' him behave,” and Betty laughed
+maliciously. “It's a great nuisance being a girl!”
+
+Then Betty fell to watching for the lights at New Madrid, her elbows
+resting on the rail against which she was leaning, and the soft curve
+of her chin sunk in the palms of her hands. She wondered absently what
+Judith would have said of this river-man. She smiled a little dubiously.
+Judith had certainly vindicated the sincerity of her convictions
+regarding the importance of family, inasmuch as in marrying Ferris she
+had married her own second cousin. She nestled her chin a little closer
+in her palms. She remembered that they had differed seriously over Mr.
+Yancy's defiance, of the law as it was supposed to be lodged in the
+sacred person of Mr. Bladen's agent, the unfortunate Blount. Carrington,
+with his back against a stanchion, watched her discontentedly.
+
+“You'll be mighty glad to have this over with, Miss Malroy--” he said at
+length, with a comprehensive sweep toward the river.
+
+“Yes--shan't you?” and she opened her eyes questioningly.
+
+“No,” said Carrington with a short laugh, drawing a chair near hers and
+sitting down.
+
+Betty, in surprise, gave him a quick look, and then as quickly glanced
+away from what she encountered in his eyes. Men were accustomed to talk
+sentiment to her, but she had hoped--well, she really had thought that
+he was, superior to this weakness. She had enjoyed the feeling that here
+was some one, big and strong and thoroughly masculine, with whom she
+could be friendly without--she took another look at him from under the
+fringe of her long lashes. He was so nice and considerate--and good
+looking--he was undeniably this last. It would be a pity! And she had
+already determined that Tom should invite him to Belle Plain. She didn't
+mind if he was a river-man--they could be friends, for clearly he was
+such an exception. Tom should be cordial to him. Betty stared before
+her, intently watching the river. As she looked, suddenly pale points of
+light appeared on a distant headland.
+
+“Is that New Madrid?--Oh, is it, Mr. Carrington?”' she cried eagerly.
+
+“I reckon so,” but he did not alter his position.
+
+“But you're not looking!”
+
+“Yes, I am--I'm looking at you. I reckon you'll think me crazy, Miss
+Malroy-presumptuous and all that but I wish Memphis could be wiped off
+the map and that we could go on like this for ever!--no, not like this
+but together--you and I,” he took a deep breath. Betty drew a little
+farther away, and looked at him reproachfully; and then she turned to
+the dancing lights far down the river. Finally she said slowly:
+
+“I thought you were--different.”
+
+“I'm not,” and Carrington's hand covered hers.
+
+“Oh--you mustn't kiss my hand like that--”
+
+“Dear--I'm just a man--and you didn't expect, did you, that I could see
+you this way day after day and not come to love you?” He rested his arm
+across the back of her chair and leaned toward her.
+
+“No--no--” and Betty moved still farther away.
+
+“Give me a chance to win your love, Betty!”
+
+“You mustn't talk so--I am nothing to you--”
+
+“Yes, you are. You're everything to me,” said Carrington doggedly.
+
+“I'm not--I won't be!” and Betty stamped her foot.
+
+“You can't help it. I love you and that's all there is about it. I
+know I'm a fool to tell you now, Betty, but years wouldn't make any
+difference in my feeling; and I can't have you go, and perhaps never
+see you again, if I can help it. Betty--give me a chance--you don't hate
+me--”
+
+“But I do--yes, I do--indeed--”
+
+“I know you don't. Let me see you again and do what I can to make you
+care for me!” he implored. But he had a very indignant little aristocrat
+to deal with. She was angry with him, and angry with herself that in
+spite of herself his words moved her. She wouldn't have it so! Why,
+he wasn't even of her class--her kind! “Betty, you don't mean--” he
+faltered.
+
+“I mean--I am extremely annoyed. I mean just what I say.” Betty regarded
+him with wrathful blue eyes. It proved too much for Carrington. His arm,
+dropped about her shoulders.
+
+“You shall love me--” She was powerless in his embrace. She felt his
+breath on her cheek, then he kissed her. Breathless and crimson, she
+struggled and pushed him from her. Suddenly his arms fell at his side;
+his face was white. “I was a brute to do that!--Betty, forgive me! I am
+sorry--no, I can't be sorry!”'
+
+“How do you dare! I hope I may never see you again--I hate you--” said
+Betty furiously, tears in her eyes and her pulses still throbbing from
+his fierce caress.
+
+“Do you mean that?” he asked slowly, rising.
+
+“Yes--yes--a million times, yes!”
+
+“I don't believe you--I can't--I won't!” They were alongside the New
+Madrid wharf now, and a certain young man who had been impatiently
+watching The Naiad's lights ever since they became visible crossed the
+gang-plank with a bound.
+
+“Betty--why in the name of goodness did you ever, choose this
+tub?--everything on the river has passed it!” said the newcomer. Betty
+started up with a little cry of surprise and pleasure.
+
+“Charley!”
+
+Carrington stepped back. This must be the brother who had come up the
+river from Memphis to meet her--but her brother's name was Tom! He
+looked this stranger--this Charley--over with a hostile eye, offended by
+his good looks, his confident manner, in which he thought he detected an
+air of ownership, as if--certainly he was holding her hands longer
+than was necessary! Of course, other men were in love with her, such
+a radiant personality held its potent attraction for men, but for all
+that, she was going to belong to him--Carrington! She did like him; she
+had shown it in a hundred little ways during the last week, and he would
+give her up to no man--give her up?--there wasn't the least tie between
+them--except that kiss--and she was furious because of it. There was
+nothing for him to do but efface himself. He would go now, before the
+boat started--and an instant later, when Betty, remembering, turned to
+speak to him, his place by the rail was deserted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. JUDGE SLOCUM PRICE
+
+
+On that day Hannibal was haunted by the memory of what he had heard and
+seen at Slosson's tavern. More than this, there was his terrible sense
+of loss, and the grief he could not master, when his thin, little body
+was shaken by sobs. Marking the course of the road westward, he clung
+to the woods, where his movements were as stealthy as the very
+shadows themselves. He shunned the scattered farms and the infrequent
+settlements, for the fear was strong with him that he might be followed
+either by Murrell or Slosson. But as the dusk of evening crept across
+the land, the great woods, now peopled by strange shadows, sent him
+forth into the highroad. He was beginning to be very tired, and hunger
+smote him with fierce pangs, but back of it all was his sense of bitter
+loss, his desolation, and his loneliness.
+
+“I couldn't forget Uncle Bob if I tried--” he told himself, with
+quivering lips, as he limped wearily along the dusty road, and the
+tears welled up and streaked his pinched face. Now before him he saw
+the scattered lights of a settlement. All his terrors, the terrors that
+grouped themselves about the idea of pursuit and capture, rushed back
+upon him, and in a panic he plunged into the black woods again.
+
+But the distant lights intensified his loneliness. He had lived a whole
+day without food, a whole day without speech. He began to skirt the
+settlement, keeping well within the thick gloom of the woods, and
+presently, as he stumbled forward, he came to a small clearing in the
+center of which stood a log dwelling. The place seemed deserted. There
+was no sign of life, no light shone from the window, no smoke issued
+from the stick-and-mud chimney.
+
+Tilted back in a chair by the door of this house a man was sleeping. The
+hoot of an owl from a near-by oak roused him. He yawned and stretched
+himself, thrusting out his fat legs and extending his great arms. Then
+becoming aware of the small figure which had stolen up the path as
+he slept and now stood before him in the uncertain light, he fell to
+rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of his plump hands. The pale night
+mist out of the silent depths of the forest had assumed shapes as
+strange.
+
+“Who are you?” he demanded, and his voice rumbled thickly forth from his
+capacious chest. The very sound was sleek and unctuous.
+
+“I'm Hannibal,” said the small figure. He was meditating flight; he
+glanced over his shoulder toward the woods.
+
+“No, you ain't. He's been dead a thousand years, more or less. Try
+again,” recommended the man.
+
+“I'm Hannibal Wayne Hazard,” said the boy. The man quitted his chair.
+
+“Well--I am glad to know you, Hannibal Wayne Hazard. I am Slocum
+Price--Judge Slocum Price, sometime major-general of militia and
+ex-member of congress, to mention a few of those honors my fellow
+countrymen have thrust upon me.” He made a sweeping gesture with his two
+hands outspread and bowed ponderously.
+
+The boy saw a man of sixty, whose gross and battered visage told its own
+story. There was a sparse white frost about his ears; and his eyes,
+pale blue and prominent, looked out from under beetling brows. He wore
+a shabby plum-colored coat and tight, drab breeches. About his fat neck
+was a black stock, with just a suggestion of soiled linen showing above
+it. His figure was corpulent and unwieldy.
+
+The man saw a boy of perhaps ten, barefoot, and clothed in homespun
+shirt and trousers. On his head was a ruinous hat much too large for
+him, but which in some mysterious manner he contrived to keep from quite
+engulfing his small features, which were swollen and tear-stained. In
+his right hand he carried a bundle, while his left clutched the brown
+barrel of a long rifle.
+
+“You don't belong in these parts, do you?” asked the judge, when he had
+completed his scrutiny.
+
+“No, sir,” answered the boy. He glanced off down the road, where lights
+were visible among the trees. “What town is that?” he added.
+
+“Pleasantville--which is a lie--but I am neither sufficiently drunk nor
+sufficiently sober to cope with the possibilities your question offers.
+It is a task one should approach only after extraordinary preparation,”
+ and the sometime major-general of militia grinned benevolently.
+
+“It's a town, ain't it?” asked Hannibal doubtfully. He scarcely
+understood this large, smiling gentleman who was so civilly given to
+speech with him, yet strangely enough he was not afraid of him, and his
+whole soul craved human companionship.
+
+“It's got a name--but you'll excuse me, I'd much prefer not to tell you
+how I regard it--you're too young to hear. But stop a bit--have you so
+much as fifty cents about you?” and the judge's eyes narrowed to a slit
+above their folds of puffy flesh. Hannibal, keeping his glance fixed
+on the man's face, fell back a step. “I can't let you go if you are
+penniless--I can't do that!” cried the judge, with sudden vehemence.
+“You shall be my guest for the night. They're a pack of thieves at the
+tavern,” he lowered his voice. “I know 'em, for they've plucked me!” To
+make sure of his prey, he rested a fat hand on the boy's shoulder
+and drew him gently but firmly into the shanty. As they crossed the
+threshold he kicked the door shut, then with flint and steel he made a
+light, and presently a candle was sputtering in his hands. He fitted
+it into the neck of a tall bottle, and as the light flared up the boy
+glanced about him.
+
+The interior was mean enough, with its rough walls, dirt floor and
+black, cavernous fireplace. A rude clapboard table did duty as a desk,
+a fact made plain by a horn ink-well, a notary's seal, and a rack with a
+half-dozen quill pens. Above the desk was a shelf of books in worn calf
+bindings, and before it a rickety chair. A shakedown bed in one corner
+of the room was tastefully screened from the public gaze by a tattered
+quilt.
+
+“Boy, don't be afraid. Look on me as a friend,” urged the judge, who
+towered above him in the dim candle-light. “Here's comfort without
+ostentation. Don't tell me you prefer the tavern, with its corrupt
+associations!” Hannibal was silent, and the judge, after a brief moment
+of irresolution, threw open the door. Then he bent toward the small
+stranger, bringing his face close to the child's, while his thick lips
+wreathed themselves in a smile ingratiatingly genial. “You can't look
+me squarely in the eye and say you prefer the tavern to these scholarly
+surroundings?” he said banteringly.
+
+“I reckon I'll be glad to stop,” answered Hannibal. The judge clapped
+him playfully on the back.
+
+“Such confidence is inspiring! Make yourself perfectly at home. Are you
+hungry?”
+
+“Yes, sir. I ain't had much to eat to-day,” replied Hannibal cautiously.
+
+“I can offer you food then. What do you say to cold fish?” the judge
+smacked his lips to impart a relish to the idea. “I dare swear I can
+find you some corn bread into the bargain. Tea I haven't got. On the
+advice of my physician, I don't use it. What do you say--shall we light
+a fire and warm the fish?”
+
+“I 'low I could eat it cold.”
+
+“No trouble in the world to start a fire. All we got to do is to go out,
+and pull a few palings off the fence,” urged the judge.
+
+“It will do all right just like it is,” said Hannibal.
+
+“Very good, then!” cried the judge gaily, and he began to assemble
+the dainties he had enumerated. “Here you are!” he cleared his throat
+impressively, while benignity shone from every feature of his face. “A
+moment since you allowed me to think that you were solvent to the
+extent of fifty cents--” Hannibal looked puzzled. The judge dealt him a
+friendly blow on the back, then stood off and regarded him with a glance
+of great jocularity, his plump knuckles on his hips and his arms akimbo.
+“I wonder”--and his eyes assumed a speculative squint “I wonder if you
+could be induced to make a temporary loan of that fifty cents? The sum
+involved is really such a ridiculous trifle I don't need to point out
+to you the absolute moral certainty of my returning it at an early
+date--say to-morrow morning; say to-morrow afternoon at the latest; say
+even the day after at the very outside. Meantime, you shall be my
+guest. The landlady's son has found my notarial seal an admirable
+plaything--she has had to lick the little devil twice for hooking
+it--my pens and stationery are at your disposal, should you desire to
+communicate to absent friends; you can have the run of my library!” the
+judge fairly trembled in his eagerness. It was not the loss of his money
+that Hannibal most feared, and the coin passed from his possession into
+his host's custody. As it dropped into the latter's great palm he was
+visibly moved. His moist, blue eyes became yet more watery, while
+his battered old face assumed an expression indicating deep inward
+satisfaction. “Thank you, my boy! This is one of those intrinsically
+trifling benefits which, conferred at the moment of acute need, touch
+the heart and tap the unfailing springs of human gratitude--I must step
+down to the tavern--when I return, please God, we shall know more of
+each other.” While he was still speaking he had produced a jug from
+behind the quilt that screened his bed, and now, bareheaded, and with
+every indication of haste, took himself off into the night.
+
+Left alone, Hannibal gravely seated himself at the table. What the
+judge's larder lacked in variety it more than made up for in quantity,
+and the boy was grateful for this fact. He was half famished, and
+the coarse, abundant food was of the sort to which he was accustomed.
+Presently he heard the judge's heavy, shuffling step as he came up the
+path from the road, and a moment later his gross bulk of body filled the
+doorway. Breathing hard and perspiring, the judge entered the shanty,
+but his eagerness, together with his shortness of breath, kept him
+silent until he had established himself in his chair beside the table,
+with the jug and a cracked glass at his elbow. Then, bland and smiling,
+he turned toward his guest.
+
+“Will you join me?” he asked.
+
+“No, sir. Please, I'd rather not,” said Hannibal.
+
+“Do you mean that you don't like good liquor?” demanded the judge. “Not
+even with sugar and a dash of water?--say, now, don't you like it that
+way, my boy?”
+
+“I ain't learned to like it no ways,” said Hannibal.
+
+“You amaze me--well--well--the greater the joy to which you may
+reasonably aspire. The splendid possibilities of youth are yours. My
+tenderest regards, Hannibal!” and he nodded over the rim of the cracked
+glass his shaking hand had carried to his lips. Twice the glass was
+filled and emptied, and then again, his roving, watery eyes rested
+meditatively on the child, who sat very erect in his chair, with his
+brown hands crossed in his lap. “Personally, I can drink or not,”
+ explained the judge. “But I hope I am too much a man of the world to
+indulge in any intemperate display of principle.” He proved the first
+clause of his proposition by again filling and emptying his glass. “Have
+you a father?” he asked suddenly. Hannibal shook his head. “A mother?”
+ demanded the judge.
+
+“They both of them done died years and years ago,” answered the boy.
+“I can't tell you how long back it was, but I reckon I don't know much
+about it. I must have been a small child.”
+
+“Ho--a small child!” cried the judge, laughing. He cocked his head
+on one side and surveyed Hannibal Wayne Hazard with a glance of comic
+seriousness. “A small child and in God's name what do you call yourself
+now? To hear you talk one would think you had dabbled your feet in the
+Flood!”
+
+“I'm most ten,” said Hannibal, with dignity.
+
+“I can well believe it,” responded the judge. “And with this weight of
+years, where did you come from and how did you get here?”
+
+“From across the mountains.”
+
+“Alone?”
+
+“No, sir. Mr. Yancy fetched me--part way.” The boy's voice broke when he
+spoke his Uncle Bob's name, and his eyes swam with tears, but the judge
+did not notice this.
+
+“And where are you going?”
+
+“To West Tennessee.”
+
+“Have you any friends there?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“You've money enough to see you through?” and what the judge intended
+for a smile of fatherly affection became a leer of infinite cunning.
+
+“I got ten dollars.”
+
+“Ten dollars--” the judge smacked his lips once. “Ten dollars” he
+repeated, and smacked his lips twice. There was a brief silence, in
+which he seemed to give way to pleasant reveries.
+
+From beyond the open door of the shanty came a multitude of night
+sounds. The moon had risen, and what had been a dusty country road was
+now a streak of silver in the hot light. The purple flush on the judge's
+face, where the dignity that belonged to age had gone down in wreck,
+deepened. The sparse, white frost above his ears was damp with sweat.
+He removed his stock, opened his shirt at the neck, and cast aside his
+coat; then he lighted a blackened pipe, filled his glass, and sank back
+in his chair. The long hours of darkness were all before him, and his
+senses clothed themselves in rich content. Once more his glance rested
+on the boy. Here, indeed, was a guest of whom one might make much and
+not err--he felt all the benevolence of his nature flow toward him. Ten
+dollars!
+
+“Certainly the tavern would have been no place for you! Well, thank God,
+it wasn't necessary for you to go there. You are more than welcome here.
+I tell you, when you know this place as I know it, you'll regard every
+living soul here with suspicion. Keep 'em at arm's length!” he sank his
+voice to an impressive whisper. “In particular, I warn you against a
+certain Solomon Mahaffy. You'll see much of him; I haven't known how to
+rebuff the fellow without being rude--he sticks to me like my shadow.
+He's profited by my charity and he admires my conversation and affects
+my society, but don't tell him you have so much as a rusty copper, for
+he will neither rest nor eat nor sleep until he's plucked you--tell him
+nothing--leave him to me. I keep him--there--” the judge extended his
+fat hands, “at arm's length. I say to him metaphorically speaking--'so
+close, but no closer. I'll visit you when sick, I'll pray with you when
+dying, I'll chat with you, I'll eat with you, I'll smoke with you,
+and if need be, I'll drink with you--but be your intimate? Never! Why?
+Because be's a damned Yankee! These are the inextinguishable feelings
+of a gentleman. I am aware they are out of place in this age, but
+what's bred in the bone will show in the flesh. Who says it won't, is
+no gentleman himself and a liar as well! My place in the world was
+determined two or three hundred years ago, and my ancestors spat on such
+cattle as Mahaffy and they were flattered by the attention!” The judge,
+powerfully excited by his denunciation of the unfortunate Mahaffy,
+quitted his chair and, lurching somewhat as he did so, began to pace the
+floor.
+
+“Take me for your example, boy! You may be poor, you may possibly be
+hungry you'll often be thirsty, but through it all you will remain that
+splendid thing--a gentleman! Lands, niggers, riches, luxury, I've had
+'em all; I've sucked the good of 'em; they've colored my blood, they've
+gone into the fiber of my brain and body. Perhaps you'll contend that
+the old order is overthrown, that family has gone to the devil? You are
+right, and there's the pity of it! Where are the great names? A race
+of upstarts has taken their place--sons of nobody--nephews of
+nobody--cousins of nobody--I observe only deterioration in the trend of
+modern life. The social fabric is tottering--I can see it totter--” and
+he tottered himself as he said this.
+
+The boy had watched him out of wide eyes, as ponderous and unwieldy he
+shuffled back and forth in the dim candlelight; now shaking his head and
+muttering, the judge dropped into his chair.
+
+“Well, I'm an old man-the spectacle won't long offend me. I'll die
+presently. The Bench and Bar will review my services to the country, the
+militia will fire a few volleys at my graveside, here and there a flag
+will be at half-mast, and that will be the end--” He was so profoundly
+moved by the thought that he could not go on. His voice broke, and he
+buried his face in his arms. A sympathetic moisture had gathered in
+the child's eyes. He understood only a small part of what his host was
+saying, but realized that it had to do with death, and he had his own
+terrible acquaintance with death. He slipped from his chair and stole
+to the judge's side, and that gentleman felt a cool hand rest lightly on
+his arm.
+
+“What?” he said, glancing up.
+
+“I'm mighty sorry you're going to die,” said the boy softly.
+
+“Bless you, Hannibal!” cried the judge, looking wonderfully cheerful,
+despite his recent bitterness of spirit. “I'm not experiencing any of
+the pangs of mortality now. My dissolution ain't a matter of to-night
+or to-morrow--there's some life in Slocum Price yet, for all the rough
+usage, eh? I've had my fun--I could tell you a thing or two about that,
+if you had hair on your chin!” and the selfish lines of his face twisted
+themselves into an exceedingly knowing grin.
+
+“You talked like you thought you were going to die right off,” said
+Hannibal gravely, as he resumed his chair. The judge was touched. It had
+been more years than he cared to remember since he had launched a decent
+emotion in the breast of any human being. For a moment he was silent,
+struck with a sense of shame; then he said:
+
+“You are sure you are not running away, Hannibal? I hope you know
+that boys should always tell the truth--that hell has its own especial
+terrors for the boy who lies? Now, if I thought the worst of you, I
+might esteem it my duty to investigate your story.” The judge laid a fat
+forefinger against the side of his nose, and regarded him with drunken
+gravity. Hannibal shook with terror. This was what he had feared.
+“That's one aspect of the case. Now, on the other hand, I might draw
+up a legal instrument which could not fail to be of use to you on
+your travois, and would stop all questions. As for my fee, it would be
+trifling, when compared with the benefits I can see accruing to you.”
+
+“No, I ain't running away. I ain't got no one to run away from,” said
+the boy chokingly. He was showing signs of fatigue. His head drooped and
+he met the judge's glance with tired, sleepy eyes. The latter looked at
+him and then said suddenly:
+
+“I think you'd better go to bed.”
+
+“I reckon I had,” agreed Hannibal, slipping from his chair.
+
+“Well, take my bed back of the quilt. You'll find a hoe there. You can
+dig up the dirt under the shuck tick with it--which helps astonishingly.
+What would the world say if it could know that judge Slocum Price makes
+his bed with a hoe! There's Spartan hardihood!” but the boy, not
+knowing what was meant by Spartan hardihood, remained silent. “Nearing
+threescore years and ten, the allotted span as set down by the
+Psalmist--once man of fashion, soldier, statesman and lawgiver--and
+makes his bed with a hoe! What a history!” muttered the judge with weary
+melancholy, as one groping hand found the jug while the other found the
+glass. There was a pause, while he profited by this fortunate chance.
+“Well, take the bed,” he resumed hospitably.
+
+“I can sleep most anywhere. I ain't no ways particular,” said Hannibal.
+
+“I say, take the bed!” commanded the judge sternly. And Hannibal quickly
+retired behind the quilt. “Do you find it comfortable?” the judge asked,
+when the rustling of the shuck tick informed him that the child had lain
+down.
+
+“Yes, sir,” said the boy.
+
+“Have you said your prayers?” inquired the judge.
+
+“No, sir. I ain't said 'em yet.”
+
+“Well, say them now. Religion is as becoming in the young as it is
+respectable in the aged. I'll not disturb you to-night, for it is God's
+will that I should stay up and get very drunk.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. BOON COMPANIONS
+
+
+Some time later the judge was aware of a step on the path beyond
+his door, and glancing up, saw the tall figure of a man pause on his
+threshold. A whispered curse slipped from between his lips. Aloud he
+said:
+
+“Is that you, Mr. Mahaffy?” He got no reply, but the tall figure,
+propelled by very long legs, stalked into the shanty and a pair of keen,
+restless eyes deeply set under a high, bald head were bent curiously
+upon him.
+
+“I take it I'm intruding,” the new-comer said sourly.
+
+“Why should you think that, Solomon Mahaffy? When has my door been
+closed on you?” the judge asked, but there was a guilty deepening of the
+flush on his face. Mr. Mahaffy glanced at the jug, at the half-emptied
+glass within convenient reach of the judge's hand, lastly at the judge
+himself, on whose flame-colored visage his eyes rested longest.
+
+“I've heard said there was honor among thieves,” he remarked.
+
+“I know of no one better fitted to offer an opinion on so delicate a
+point than just yourself, Mahaffy,” said the judge, with a thick little
+ripple of laughter.
+
+But Solomon Mahaffy's long face did not relax in its set expression.
+
+“I saw your light,” he explained, “but you seem to be raising first-rate
+hell all by yourself.”
+
+“Oh, be reasonable, Solomon. You'd gone down to the steamboat landing,”
+ said the judge plaintively. By way of answer, Mahaffy shot him a
+contemptuous glance. “Take a chair--do, Solomon!” entreated the judge.
+
+“I don't force my society on any man, Mr. Price,” said Mahaffy, with
+austere hostility of tone. The judge winced at the “Mr.” That registered
+the extreme of Mahaffy's disfavor.
+
+“You feel bitter about this, Solomon?” he said.
+
+“I do,” said Mahaffy, in a tone of utter finality.
+
+“You'll feel better with three fingers of this trickling through your
+system,” observed the judge, pushing a glass toward him.
+
+“When did I ever sneak a jug into my shanty?” asked Mahaffy sternly,
+evidently conscious of entire rectitude in this matter.
+
+“I deplore your choice of words, Solomon,” said the judge. “You know
+damn well that if you'd been here I couldn't have got past your place
+with that jug! But let's deal with conditions. Here's the jug, with some
+liquor left in it--here's a glass. Now what more do you want?”
+
+“Have I ever been caught like this?” demanded Mahaffy.
+
+“No, you've invariably manifested the honorable disabilities of a
+gentleman. But don't set it all down to virtue. Maybe you haven't had
+the opportunity, maybe the temptation never came and found you weak
+and thirsty. Put away your sinful pride, Solomon--a sot like you has no
+business with the little niceties of selfrespect.”
+
+“Do I drink alone?” insisted Mahaffy doggedly.
+
+“I never give you the chance,” retorted his friend. Mr. Mahaffy drew
+near the table. “Sit down,” urged the judge.
+
+“I hope you feel mean?” said Mahaffy.
+
+“If it's any satisfaction to you, I do,” admitted the judge.
+
+“You ought to.” Mahaffy drew forward a chair. The judge filled his
+glass. But Mr. Mahaffy's lean face, with its long jaws and high
+cheek-bones, over which the sallow skin was tightly drawn, did not relax
+in its forbidding expression, even when he had tossed off his first
+glass.
+
+“I love to see you in a perfectly natural attitude like that, Solomon,
+with your arm crooked. What's the news from the landing?”
+
+Mahaffy brought his fist down on the table.
+
+“I heard the boat churning away round back of the bend, then I saw
+the lights, and she tied up and they tossed off the freight. Then she
+churned away again and her lights got back of the trees on the bank.
+There was the lap of waves on the shore, and I was left with the
+half-dozen miserable loafers who'd crawled out to see the boat come in.
+That's the news six days a week!”
+
+By the river had come the judge, tentatively hopeful, but at heart
+expecting nothing, therefore immune to disappointment and equipped
+for failure. By the river had come Mr. Mahaffy, as unfit as the judge
+himself, and for the same reason, but sour and bitter with the world,
+believing always in the possibility of some miracle of regeneration.
+
+Pleasantville's weekly paper, The Genius of Liberty, had dwelt at length
+upon those distinguished services judge Slocum Price had rendered the
+nation in war and peace, the judge having graciously furnished an array
+of facts otherwise difficult of access. That he was drunk at the time
+had but added to the splendor of the narrative. He had placed his ripe
+wisdom, the talents he had so assiduously cultivated, at the services of
+his fellow citizens. He was prepared to represent them in any or all
+the courts. But he had remained undisturbed in his condition of
+preparedness; that erudite brain was unconcerned with any problem beyond
+financing his thirst at the tavern, where presently ingenuity, though it
+expressed itself with a silver tongue, failed him, and he realized that
+the river's spent floods had left him stranded with those other odds and
+ends of worthless drift that cumbered its sun-scorched mud banks.
+
+Something of all this passed through his mind as he sat there sodden and
+dreamy, with the one fierce need of his nature quieted for the moment.
+He had been stranded before, many times, in those long years during
+which he had moved steadily toward a diminishing heritage; indeed,
+nothing that was evil could contain the shock of a new experience. He
+had fought and lost all his battles--bitter struggles to think of even
+now, after the lapse of years, and the little he had to tell of
+himself was an intricate mingling of truth and falsehood, grotesque
+exaggeration, purposeless mendacity.
+
+He and Mahaffy had met exactly one month before, on the deck of the
+steamer from which they had been put ashore at the river landing two
+miles from Pleasantville. Mahaffy's historic era had begun just there.
+Apparently he had no past of which he could be brought to speak. He
+admitted having been born in Boston some sixty years before, and was a
+printer by trade; further than this, he had not revealed himself, drunk
+or sober.
+
+At the judge's elbow Mr. Mahaffy changed his position with nervous
+suddenness. Then he folded his long arms.
+
+“You asked if there was any news, Price; while we were waiting for the
+boat a raft tied up to the bank; the fellow aboard of it had a man he'd
+fished up out of the river, a man who'd been pretty well cut to pieces.”
+
+“Who was he?” asked the judge.
+
+“Nobody knew, and he wasn't conscious. I shouldn't be surprised if he
+never opens his lips again. When the doctor had looked to his cuts, the
+fellow on the raft cast off and went on down the Elk.”
+
+It occurred to the judge that he himself had news to impart. He must
+account for the boy's presence.
+
+“While you've been taking your whiff of life down at the steamboat
+landing, Mahaffy, I've been experiencing a most extraordinary
+coincidence.” The judge paused. By a sullen glare in his deep-sunk eyes
+Mr. Mahaffy seemed to bid him go on. “Back east--” the judge jerked
+his thumb with an indefinite gesture “back east at my ancestral
+home--” Mahaffy snorted harshly. “You don't believe I had an ancestral
+home?--well, I had! It was of brick, sir, with eight Corinthian columns
+across the front, having a spacious paneled hall sixty feet long. I had
+the distinguished honor to entertain General Andrew Jackson there.”
+
+“Did you get those dimensions out of the jug?” inquiry Mahaffy, with a
+frightful bark that was intended for a sarcastic laugh.
+
+“Sir, it is not in your province to judge me by my present degraded
+associates. Near the house I have described--my father's and his
+father's before him, and mine now--but for the unparalleled misfortunes
+which have pursued me--lived a family by the name of Hazard. And when I
+went to the war of '12--”
+
+“What were you in that bloody time, a sutler?” inquired Mahaffy
+insultingly.
+
+“No, sir--a colonel of infantry!--I say, when I went to the war, one of
+these Hazards accompanied me as my orderly. His grandson is back of that
+curtain now--asleep--in my bed!” Mahaffy put down his glass.
+
+“You were like this once before,” he said darkly. But at that instant
+the shuck tick rattled noisily at some movement of the sleeping boy.
+Mahaffy quitted his chair, and crossing the room, drew the quilt aside.
+A glance sufficed to assure him that in part, at least, the judge spoke
+the truth. He let the curtain fall into place and resumed his chair.
+
+“He's an orphan, Solomon; a poor, friendless orphan. Another might
+have turned him away from his door--I didn't; I hadn't the heart to. I
+bespeak your sympathy for him.”
+
+“Who is he?” asked Mahaffy.
+
+“Haven't I just told you?” said the judge reproachfully. Mahaffy
+laughed.
+
+“You've told me something. Who is he?”
+
+“His name is Hannibal Wayne Hazard. Wait until he wakes up and see if it
+isn't.”
+
+“Sure he isn't kin to you?” said Mahaffy.
+
+“Not a drop of my blood flows in the veins of any living creature,”
+ declared the judge with melancholy impressiveness. He continued with
+deepening feeling, “All I shall leave to posterity is my fame.”
+
+“Speaking of posterity, which isn't present, Mr. Price, I'll say it is
+embarrassed by the attention,” observed Mahaffy.
+
+There was a long silence between them. Mr. Mahaffy drank, and when
+he did not drink he bit his under lip and studied the judge. This was
+always distressing to the latter gentleman. Mahaffy's silence he
+could never penetrate. What was back of it--judgment, criticism,
+disbelief--what? Or was it the silence of emptiness? Was Mahaffy dumb
+merely because he could think of nothing to say, or did his silence
+cloak his feelings-and what were his feelings? Did his meditations
+outrun his habitually insulting speech as he bit his under lip and
+glared at him? The judge always felt impelled to talk at such times,
+while Mahaffy, by that silence of his, seemed to weigh and condemn
+whatever he said.
+
+The moon had slipped below the horizon. Pleasantville had long since
+gone to bed; it was only the judge's window that gave its light to the
+blackness of the night. There was a hoofbeat on the road. It came nearer
+and nearer, and presently sounded just beyond the door. Then it ceased,
+and a voice said:
+
+“Hullo, there!” The judge scrambled to his feet, and taking up the
+candle, stepped, or rather staggered, into the yard. Mahaffy followed
+him.
+
+“What's wanted?” asked the judge, as he lurched up to horse and rider,
+holding his candle aloft. The light showed a tail fellow mounted on a
+handsome bay horse. It was Murrell.
+
+“Is there an inn hereabouts?” he asked.
+
+“You'll find one down the road a ways,” said Mahaffy. The judge said
+nothing. He was staring up at Murrell with drunken gravity.
+
+“Have either of you gentlemen seen a boy go through here to-day? A
+boy about ten years old?” Murrell glanced from one to the other. Mr.
+Mahaffy's thin lips twisted themselves into a sarcastic smile. He turned
+to the judge, who spoke up quickly.
+
+“Did he carry a bundle and rifle?” he asked. Murrell gave eager assent.
+
+“Well,” said the judge, “he stopped here along about four o'clock and
+asked his way to the nearest river landing.” Murrell gathered up his
+reins, and then that fixed stare of the judge's seemed to arrest his
+attention.
+
+“You'll know me again,” he observed.
+
+“Anywhere,” said the judge.
+
+“I hope that's a satisfaction to you,” said Murrell.
+
+“It ain't--none whatever,” answered the judge promptly. “For I don't
+value you--I don't value you that much!” and he snapped his fingers to
+illustrate his meaning.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. THE ORATOR OF THE DAY
+
+
+“Hannibal!” the judge's voice and manner were rather stern. “Hannibal, a
+man rode by here last night on a big bay horse. He said he was looking
+for a boy about ten years old--a boy with a bundle and rifle.” There was
+an awful pause. Hannibal's heart stood still for a brief instant, then
+it began to beat with terrific thumps against his ribs. “Who was that
+man, Hannibal?”
+
+“I--please, I don't know--” gasped the child.
+
+“Hannibal, who was that man?” repeated the judge.
+
+“It were Captain Murrell.” The judge regarded him with a look of great
+steadiness. He saw his small face go white, he saw the look of abject
+terror in his eyes. The judge raised his fist and brought it down with
+a great crash on the table, so that the breakfast dishes leaped and
+rattled. “We don't know any boy ten years old with a rifle and bundle!”
+ he said.
+
+“Please--you won't let him take me away, judge I want to stop with you!”
+ cried Hannibal. He slipped from his chair, and passing about the table,
+seized the judge by the hand. The judge was visibly affected.
+
+“No!” he roared, with a great oath. “He shan't have you--I'll see him in
+the farthest corner of hell first! Is he kin to you?”
+
+“No,” said Hannibal.
+
+“Took you to raise, did he--and abused you--infernal hypocrite!” cried
+the judge with righteous wrath.
+
+“He tried to get me away from my Uncle Bob. He's been following us since
+we crossed the mountains.”
+
+“Where is your Uncle Bob?”
+
+“He's dead.” And the child began to weep bitterly. Much puzzled, the
+judge regarded him in silence for a moment, then bent and lifted him
+into his lap.
+
+“There, my son--” he said soothingly. “Now you tell me when he died, and
+all about it.”
+
+“He were killed. It were only yesterday, and I can't forget him! I don't
+want to--but it hurts--it hurts terrible!” Hannibal buried his head in
+the judge's shoulder and sobbed aloud. Presently his small hands stole
+about the judge's neck, and that gentleman experienced a strange thrill
+of pleasure.
+
+“Tell me how he died, Hannibal,” he urged gently. In a voice broken by
+sobs the child began the story of their flight, a confused narrative,
+which the judge followed with many a puzzled shake of the head. But as
+he reached his climax--that cry he had heard at the tavern, the men in
+the lane with their burden--he became more and more coherent and his
+ideas clothed themselves in words of dreadful simplicity and directness.
+The judge shuddered. “Can such things be?” he murmured at last.
+
+“You won't let him take me?”
+
+“I never unsay my words,” said the judge grandly. “With God's help
+I'll be the instrument for their destruction.” He frowned with a
+preternatural severity. Eh--if he could turn a trick like that, it would
+pull him up! There would be no more jeers and laughter.
+
+What credit and standing it would give him! His thoughts slipped
+along this fresh channel. What a prosecution he would conduct--what a
+whirlwind of eloquence he would loose! He began to breathe hard. His
+name should go from end to end of the state! No man could be great
+without opportunity--for years he had known this--but here was
+opportunity at last! Then he remembered what Mahaffy had told him of the
+man on the raft. This Slosson's tavern was probably on the upper waters
+of the Elk. Yancy had been thrown in the river and had been picked up in
+a dying condition. “Hannibal,” he said, “Solomon Mahaffy, who was here
+last night, told me he saw down at the river landing, a man who had been
+fished up out of the Elk--a man who had been roughly handled.”
+
+“Were it my Uncle Bob?” cried Hannibal, lifting a swollen face to his.
+
+“Dear lad, I don't know,” said the judge sympathetically. “Some people
+on a raft had picked him up out of the river. He was unconscious and no
+one knew him. He was apparently a stranger in these parts.”
+
+“It were Uncle Bob! It were Uncle Bob--I know it were my Uncle Bob! I
+must go find him!” and Hannibal slipped from the judge's lap and ran for
+his rifle and bundle.
+
+“Stop a bit!” cried the judge. “He was taken on past here, and he was
+badly injured. Now, if it was your Uncle Bob, he'll come back the moment
+he is able to travel. Meantime, you must remain under my protection
+while we investigate this man Slosson.”
+
+But alas--that thoroughfare which is supposed to be paved exclusively
+with good resolutions, had benefited greatly by Slocum Price's labors in
+the past, and he was destined to toil still in its up-keep. He borrowed
+the child's money and spent it, and if any sense of shame smote his
+torpid conscience, he hid it manfully. Not so Mr. Mahaffy; for while
+he profited by his friend's act, he told that gentleman just what
+he thought of him with insulting candor. On the eighth day there was
+sobriety for the pair. Deep gloom visited Mr. Mahaffy, and the judge was
+a prey to melancholy.
+
+It was Saturday, and in Pleasantville a jail-raising was in progress.
+During all the years of its corporate dignity the village had never
+boasted any building where the evil-doer could be placed under
+restraint; hence had arisen its peculiar habit of dealing with crime;
+but a leading citizen had donated half an acre of ground lying midway
+between the town and the river landing as a site for the proposed
+structure, and the scattered population of the region had assembled for
+the raising. Nor was Pleasantville unprepared to make immediate use of
+the jail, since the sheriff had in custody a free negro who had knifed
+another free negro and was awaiting trial at the next term of court.
+
+“We don't want to get there too early,” explained the judge, as they
+quitted the cabin. “We want to miss the work, but be on hand for the
+celebration.”
+
+“I suppose we may confidently look to you to favor us with a few
+eloquent words?” said Mr. Mahaffy.
+
+“And why not, Solomon?” asked the judge.
+
+“Why not, indeed!” echoed Mr. Mahaffy.
+
+The opportunity he craved was not denied him. The crowd was like most
+southwestern crowds of the period, and no sooner did the judge appear
+than there were clamorous demands for a speech. He cast a glance of
+triumph at Mahaffy, and nimbly mounted a convenient stump. He extolled
+the climate of middle Tennessee, the unsurpassed fertility of the soil;
+he touched on the future that awaited Pleasantville; he apostrophized
+the jail; this simple structure of logs in the shadow of the primeval
+woods was significant of their love of justice and order; it was a
+suitable place for the detention of a citizen of a great republic; it
+was no mediaeval dungeon, but a forest-embowered retreat where, barring
+mosquitoes and malaria, the party under restraint would be put to no
+needless hardship; he would have the occasional companionship of the
+gentlemanly sheriff; his friends, with such wise and proper restrictions
+as the law saw fit to impose, could come and impart the news of the day
+to him through the chinks of the logs.
+
+“I understand you have dealt in a hasty fashion with one or two
+horse-thieves,” he continued. “Also with a gambler who was put ashore
+here from a river packet and subsequently became involved in a dispute
+with a late citizen of this place touching the number of aces in a pack
+of cards. It is not for me to criticize! What I may term the spontaneous
+love of justice is the brightest heritage of a free people. It is this
+same commendable ability to acquit ourselves of our obligations that is
+making us the wonder of the world! But don't let us forget the law--of
+which it is an axiom, that it is not the severity of punishment, but the
+certainty of it, that holds the wrong-doer in check! With this safe
+and commodious asylum the plow line can remain the exclusive aid to
+agriculture. If a man murders, curb your natural impulse! Give him
+a fair trial, with eminent counsel!” The judge tried not to look
+self-conscious when he said this. “If he is found guilty, I still say,
+don't lynch him! Why? Because by your hasty act you deny the public
+the elevating and improving spectacle of a legal execution!” When the
+applause had died out, a lank countryman craning his neck for a sight of
+the sheriff, bawled out over the heads of the crowd:
+
+“Where's your nigger? We want to put him in here!”
+
+“I reckon he's gone fishin'. I never seen the beat of that nigger to go
+fishin',” said the sheriff.
+
+“Whoop! Ain't you goin' to put him in here?” yelled the countryman.
+
+“It's a mighty lonely spot for a nigger,” said the sheriff doubtingly.
+
+“Lonely? Well, suppose he ups and lopes out of this?”
+
+“You don't know that nigger,” rejoined the sheriff warmly. “He ain't
+missed a meal since I had him in custody. Just as regular as the clock
+strikes he's at the back door. Good habits--why, that darky is a lesson
+to most white folks!”
+
+“I don't care a cuss about that nigger, but what's the use of building a
+jail if a body ain't goin' to use it?”
+
+“Well, there's some sense in that,” agreed the sheriff.
+
+“There's a whole heap of sense in it!”
+
+“I suggest”--the speaker was a young lawyer from the next county--“I
+suggest that a committee be appointed to wait on the nigger at
+the steamboat landing and acquaint him with the fact that with his
+assistance we wish completely to furnish the jail.”
+
+“I protest--” cried the judge. “I protest--” he repeated vigorously.
+“Pride of race forbids that I should be a party to the degradation of
+the best of civilization! Is your jail to be christened to its high
+office by a nigger? Is this to be the law's apotheosis? No, sir! No
+nigger is worthy the honor of being the first prisoner here!” This was
+a new and striking idea. The crowd regarded the judge admiringly.
+Certainly here was a man of refined feeling.
+
+“That's just the way I feel about it,” said the sheriff. “If I'd
+athought there was any call for him I wouldn't have let him go fishing,
+I'd have kept him about.”
+
+“Oh, let the nigger fish--he has powerful luck. What's he usin',
+Sheriff; worms or minnies?”
+
+“Worms,” said the sheriff shortly.
+
+Presently the crowd drifted away in the direction of the tavern.
+Hannibal meantime had gone down to the river. He haunted its banks as
+though he expected to see his Uncle Bob appear any moment. The judge and
+Mahaffy had mingled with the others in the hope of free drinks, but in
+this hope there lurked the germ of a bitter disappointment. There was
+plenty of drinking, but they were not invited to join in this pleasing
+rite, and after a period of great mental anguish Mahaffy parted with
+the last stray coin in the pocket of his respectable black trousers, and
+while his flask was being filled the judge indulged in certain winsome
+gallantries with the fat landlady.
+
+“La, Judge Price, how you do run on!” she said with a coquettish toss of
+her curls.
+
+“That's the charm of you, ma'am,” said the judge. He leaned across
+the bar and, sinking his voice to a husky whisper, asked, “Would it be
+perfectly convenient for you to extend me a limited credit?”
+
+“Now, Judge Price, you know a heap better than to ask me that!” she
+answered, shaking her head.
+
+“No offense, ma'am,” said the judge, hiding his disappointment, and with
+Mahaffy he quitted the bar.
+
+“Why don't you marry the old girl? You could drink yourself to death in
+six months,” said Mahaffy. “That would be a speculation worth while--and
+while you live you could fondle those curls!”
+
+“Maybe I'll be forced to it yet,” responded the judge with gloomy
+pessimism.
+
+With the filling of Mahaffy's flask the important event of the day
+was past, and both knew it was likely to retain its preeminence for a
+terrible and indefinite period; a thought that enriched their thirst
+as it increased their gravity while they were traversing the stretch of
+dusty road that lay between the cavern and the judge's shanty. When they
+had settled themselves in their chairs before the door, Mahaffy, who was
+notably jealous of his privileges, drew the cork from the flask and
+took the first pull at its contents. The judge counted the swallows
+as registered by that useful portion of Mahaffy's anatomy known as his
+Adam's apple. After a breathless interval, Mahaffy detached himself
+from the flask and civilly passing the cuff of his coat about its neck,
+handed it over to the judge. In the unbroken silence that succeeded the
+flask passed swiftly from hand to hand, at length Mahaffy held it up to
+the light. It was two-thirds empty, and a sigh stole from between his
+thin lips. The judge reached out a tremulous hand. He was only too
+familiar with his friend's distressing peculiarities.
+
+“Not yet!” he begged thickly.
+
+“Why not?” demanded Mahaffy fiercely. “Is it your liquor or mine?” He
+quitted his chair end stalked to the well where he filled the flask with
+water. Infinitely disgusted, the judge watched the sacrilege. Mahaffy
+resumed his chair and again the flask went its rounds.
+
+“It ain't so bad,” said the judge after a time, but with a noticeable
+lack of enthusiasm.
+
+“Were you in shape to put anything better than water into it, Mr.
+Price?” The judge winced. He always winced at that “Mr.”
+
+“Well, I wouldn't serve myself such a trick as that,” he said with
+decision. “When I take liquor, it's one thing; and when I want water,
+it's another.”
+
+“It is, indeed,” agreed Mahaffy.
+
+“I drink as much clear water as is good for a man of my constitution,”
+ said the judge combatively. “My talents are wasted here,” he resumed,
+after a little pause. “I've brought them the blessings of the law, but
+what does it signify!”
+
+“Why did you ever come here?” Mahaffy spoke sharply.
+
+“I might ask the same question of you, and in the same offensive tone,”
+ said the judge.
+
+“May I ask, not wishing to take a liberty, were you always the same old
+pauper you've been since I've known you?” inquired Mahaffy. The judge
+maintained a stony silence.
+
+The heat deepened in the heart of the afternoon. The sun, a ball of
+fire, slipped back of the tree-tops. Thick shadows stole across the
+stretch of dusty road. Off in the distance there was the sound of
+cowbell. Slowly these came nearer and nearer--as the golden light
+slanted, sifting deeper and deeper into the woods.
+
+They could see the crowd that came and went about the tavern, they
+caught the distant echo of its mirth.
+
+“Common--quite common,” said the judge with somber melancholy.
+
+“I didn't see anything common,” said Mahaffy sourly. “The drinks weren't
+common by a long sight.”
+
+“I referred to the gathering in its social aspect, Solomon,” explained
+the judge; “the illiberal spirit that prevailed, which, I observe, did
+not escape you.”
+
+“Skunks!” said Mahaffy.
+
+“Not a man present had the public spirit to set 'em up,” lamented the
+judge. “They drank in pairs, and I'd blistered my throat at their damn
+jail-raising! What sort of a fizzle would it have been if I hadn't been
+on hand to impart distinction to the occasion?”
+
+“I don't begrudge 'em their liquor,” said Mahaffy with acid dignity.
+
+“I do,” interrupted the judge. “I hope it's poison to 'em.
+
+“It will be in the long run, if it's any comfort to you to know it.”
+
+“It's no comfort, it's not near quick enough,” said the judge
+relentlessly. The sudden noisy clamor of many voices, highpitched and
+excited, floated out to them under the hot sky. “I wonder--” began the
+judge, and paused as he saw the crowd stream into the road before the
+tavern. Then a cloud of dust enveloped it, a cloud of dust that came
+from the trampling of many pairs of feet, and that swept toward them,
+thick and impenetrable, and no higher than a tall man's head in the
+lifeless air. “I wonder if we missed anything,” continued the judge,
+finishing what he had started to say.
+
+The score or more of men were quite near, and the judge and Mahaffy made
+out the tall figure of the sheriff in the lead. And then the crowd, very
+excited, very dusty, very noisy and very hot, flowed into the judge's
+front yard. For a brief moment that gentleman fancied Pleasantville had
+awakened to a fitting sense of its obligation to him and that it was
+about to make amends for its churlish lack of hospitality. He rose from
+his chair, and with a splendid florid gesture, swept off his hat.
+
+“It's the pussy fellow!” cried a voice.
+
+“Oh, shut up--don't you think I know him?” retorted the sheriff tartly.
+
+“Gentlemen--” began the judge blandly.
+
+“Get the well-rope!”
+
+The judge was rather at loss properly to interpret these varied remarks.
+He was not long left in doubt. The sheriff stepped to his side and
+dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
+
+“Mr. Slocum Price, or whatever your name is, your little game is up!”
+
+“Get the well-rope! Oh, hell--won't some one get the well-rope?” The
+voice rose into a wail of entreaty.
+
+The judge's eyes, rather startled, slid around in their sockets. 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. This was something like--it had a taste
+for the man-hunt! The sheriff snatched away the rope and dealt the
+officious gentleman a savage blow on the chin that sent him staggering
+backward into the arms of his friends.
+
+“Now, see here, now--I'm going to arrest this old faller! I am going to
+put him in jail, and I ain't going to have no nonsense--do you hear me?”
+ he expostulated.
+
+“I can explain--” cried the judge.
+
+“Make him give me my money!” wailed Mrs Walker.
+
+“Jezebel!” roared the judge, in a passion of rage.
+
+“Ca'm's the word, or you'll get 'em started!” whispered the sheriff.
+The judge looked fearfully around. At his side stood Mahaffy, a yellow
+pallor splotching his thin cheeks. He seemed to be holding himself there
+by an effort.
+
+“Speak to them, Solomon--speak to them--you know how I came by the
+money! Speak to them--you know I am innocent!” cried the judge,
+clutching his friend by the arm. Mahaffy opened his thin lips, but the
+crowd drowned his voice in a roar.
+
+“He's his partner--”
+
+“There's no evidence against him,” said the sheriff.
+
+A tall fellow, in a fringed hunting-shirt, shook a long finger under
+Mahaffy's aquiline nose.
+
+“You scoot--that's what--you make tracks! And if we ever see your ugly
+face about here again, we'll--”
+
+“You'll what?” inquired Mahaffy.
+
+“We'll fix you out with feathers that won't molt, that's what!”
+
+Mr. Mahaffy seemed to hesitate. His lean hands opened and closed, and he
+met the eyes of the crowd with a bitter, venomous stare. Some one gave
+him a shove and he staggered forward a step, snapping out a curse.
+Before he could recover himself the shove was repeated.
+
+“Lope on out of here!” yelled the tall fellow, who had first challenged
+his right to remain in Pleasantville or its environs. As the crowd fell
+apart to make way for him, willing hands were extended to give him the
+needed impetus, and without special volition of his own.
+
+Mahaffy was hurried toward the road. His hat was knocked flat on his
+head--he turned with an angry snarl, the very embodiment of hate--but
+again he was thrust forward. And then, somehow, his walk became a run
+and the crowd started after him with delighted whoopings. Once more,
+and for the last time, he faced about, giving the judge a hopeless,
+despairing glance. His tormentors were snatching up sods and stones and
+he had no choice. He turned, his long strides taking him swiftly over
+the ground, with the air full of missiles at his back.
+
+Before he had gone a hundred yards he abandoned the road and, turning
+off across an unfenced field, ran toward the woods and swampy bottom.
+Twenty men were in chase behind him. The judge was the sheriff's
+prisoner--that official had settled that point--but Mr. Mahaffy was
+common property, it was his cruel privilege to furnish excitement; his
+keen rage was almost equal to the fear that urged him on. Then the woods
+closed about him. His long legs, working tirelessly, carried him over
+fallen logs and through tall tangled thickets, the voices behind him
+growing more and more distant as he ran.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. THE FAMILY ON THE RAFT
+
+
+That would unquestionably have been the end of Bob Yancy when he was
+shot out into the muddy waters of the Elk River, had not Mr.
+Richard Keppel Cavendish, variously known as Long-Legged Dick,
+and Chills-and-Fever Cavendish, of Lincoln County, in the state of
+Tennessee, some months previously and after unprecedented mental effort
+on his part, decided that Lincoln County was no place for him. When
+he had established this idea firmly in his own mind and in the mind of
+Polly, his wife, he set about solving the problem of transportation.
+
+Mr. Cavendish's paternal grandparent had drifted down the Holston and
+Tennessee; and Mr. Cavendish's father, in his son's youth, had poled
+up the Elk. Mr. Cavendish now determined to float down the Elk to its
+juncture with the Tennessee, down the Tennessee to the Ohio, and if need
+be, down the Ohio to the Mississippi, and keep drifting until he found
+some spot exactly suited to his taste. Temperamentally, he was well
+adapted to drifting. No conception of vicarious activity could have been
+more congenial.
+
+With this end in view he had toiled through late winter and early
+spring, building himself a raft on which to transport his few belongings
+and his numerous family; there were six little Cavendishes, and they
+ranged in years from four to eleven; there was in addition the baby, who
+was always enumerated separately. This particular infant Mr. Cavendish
+said he wouldn't take a million dollars for. He usually added feelingly
+that he wouldn't give a piece of chalk for another one.
+
+June found him aboard his raft with all his earthly possessions bestowed
+about him, awaiting the rains and freshets that were to waft him
+effortless into a newer country where he should have a white man's
+chance. At last the rains came, and he cast off from the bank at that
+unsalubrious spot where his father had elected to build his cabin on a
+strip of level bottom subject to periodic inundation. Wishing fully to
+profit by the floods and reach the big water without delay, Cavendish
+ran the raft twenty-four hours at a stretch, sleeping by day while Polly
+managed the great sweep, only calling him when some dangerous bit of the
+river was to be navigated. Thus it happened that as Murrell and Slosson
+were dragging Yancy down the lane, Cavendish was just rounding a bend in
+the Elk, a quarter of a mile distant. Leaning loosely against the long
+handle of his sweep, he was watching the lane of bright water that ran
+between the black shadows cast by the trees on either bank. He was in
+shirt and trousers, barefoot and bareheaded, and his face, mild and
+contemplative, wore an expression of dreamy contentment.
+
+Suddenly its expression changed. He became alert and watchful. He had
+heard a dull splash. Thinking that some tree had been swept into the
+flood, he sought to pierce the darkness that lay along the shore. Five
+or six minutes passed as the raft glided along without sound. He was
+about to relapse into his former attitude of listless ease when he
+caught sight of some object in the eddy that swept alongside. Mr.
+Cavendish promptly detached himself from the handle of the sweep and ran
+to the edge of the raft.
+
+“Good Lord--what's that!” he gasped, but he already knew it was a face,
+livid and blood-streaked. Dropping on his knees he reached out a pair
+of long arms and made a dexterous grab, and his fingers closed on the
+collar of Yancy's shirt. “Neighbor, I certainly have got you!” said
+Cavendish, between his teeth. He drew Yancy close alongside the raft,
+and, slipping a hand under each arm, pulled him clear of the water. The
+swift current swept the raft on down the stream. It rode fairly in the
+center of the lane of light, but no eye had observed its passing. Mr.
+Cavendish stood erect and stared down at the blood-stained face, then he
+dropped on his knees again and began a hurried examination of the still
+figure. “There's a little life here--not much, but some--you was well
+worth fishing up!” he said approvingly, after a brief interval. “Polly!”
+ he called, raising his voice.
+
+This brought Mrs. Cavendish from one of the two cabins that occupied the
+center of the raft. She was a young woman, still very comely, though
+of a matronly plumpness. She was in her nightgown, and when she caught
+sight of Yancy she uttered a shriek and fled back into the shanty.
+
+“I declare, Dick, you might ha' told a body you wa'n't alone!” she said
+reproachfully.
+
+Her cry had aroused the other denizens of the raft. The tow heads of the
+six little Cavendishes rose promptly from a long bolster in the smaller
+of the two shanties, and as promptly six little Cavendishes, each draped
+in a single non-committal garment, apparently cut by one pattern and not
+at all according to the wearer's years or length of limb, tumbled forth
+from their shelter.
+
+“Sho', Polly, he's senseless! But you dress and come here quick. Now,
+you young folks, don't you tetch him!” for the six small Cavendishes,
+excited beyond measure, were crowding and shoving for a nearer sight of
+Yancy. They began to pelt their father with questions. Who was it? Sho',
+in the river? Sho', all cut up like that--who'd cut him? Had he hurt
+himself? Was he throwed in? When did pop fish him out? Was he dead? Why
+did he lay like that and not move or speak--sho'! This and much more
+was flung at Mr. Cavendish all in one breath, and each eager questioner
+seized him by the hand, the dangling sleeve of his shirt, or his
+trousers--they clutched him from all sides. “I never seen such a
+family!” said Mr. Cavendish helplessly. “Now, you-all shut up, or I 'low
+I'll lay into you!”
+
+Mrs. Cavendish's appearance created a diversion in his favor. The six
+rushed on her tumultously. They seized her hands or struggled for a
+fragment of her skirt to hold while they poured out their tale. Pop had
+fished up a man--he'd been throwed in the river! Pop didn't know if he
+was dead or not--he was all cut and bloody.
+
+“I declare, I've a mind to skin you if you don't keep still! Miss
+Constance,” Polly addressed her eldest child, “I'm surprised at you! You
+might be a heathen savage for all you got on your back--get into some
+duds this instant!” Cavendish was on his knees again beside Yancy, and
+Polly, by a determined effort, rid herself of the children. “Why, he's a
+grand-looking man, ain't he?” she cried. “La, what a pity!”
+
+“You can feel his heart beat, and he's bleeding some,” said Cavendish.
+
+“Let me see--just barely flutters, don't it? Henry, go mind the sweep
+and see we don't get aground! Keppel, you start a fire and warm some
+water! Connie, you tear up my other petticoat for bandages now, stir
+around, all of you!” And then began a period of breathless activity.
+They first lifted Yancy into the circle of illumination cast by the fire
+Keppel had started on the hearth of flat stones before the shanties.
+Then, with Constance to hold a pan of warm water, Mrs. Cavendish deftly
+bathed the gaping wound in Yancy's shoulder where Murrell had driven his
+knife. This she bandaged with strips torn from her petticoat. Next she
+began on the ragged cut left by Slosson's club.
+
+“He's got a right to be dead!” said Cavendish.
+
+“Get the shears, Dick--I must snip away some of his hair.”
+
+All this while the four half-naked youngest Cavendishes, very still
+now, stood about the stone hearth in the chill dawn and watched their
+mother's surgery with a breathless interest. Only the outcast Henry at
+the sweep ever and anon lifted his voice between sobs of mingled rage
+and disappointment, and demanded what was doing.
+
+“Think he is going to die, Polly?” whispered Cavendish at length. Their
+heads, hers very black and glossy, his very blond, were close together
+as they bent above the injured man.
+
+“I never say a body's going to die until he's dead,” said Polly. “He's
+still breathing, and a Christian has got to do what they can. Don't you
+think you ought to tie up?”
+
+“The freshet's leaving us. I'll run until we hit the big water down by
+Pleasantville, and then tie up,” said Cavendish.
+
+“I reckon we'd better lift him on to one of the beds--get his wet
+clothes off and wrap him up warm,” said Polly.
+
+“Oh, put him in our bed!” cried all the little Cavendishes.
+
+And Yancy was borne into the smaller of the two shanties, where
+presently his bandaged head rested on the long communal pillow. Then his
+wet clothes were hung up to dry along with a portion of the family wash
+which fluttered on a rope stretched between the two shanties.
+
+The raft had all the appearance of a cabin dooryard. There was, in
+addition to the two shelters of bark built over a light framework of
+poles, a pen which housed a highly domestic family of pigs, while half a
+dozen chickens enjoyed a restricted liberty. With Yancy disposed of,
+the regular family life was resumed. It was sun-up now. The little
+Cavendishes, reluctant but overpersuaded, had their faces washed
+alongside and were dressed by Connie, while Mrs. Cavendish performed
+the same offices for the baby. Then there was breakfast, from which
+Mr. Cavendish rose yawning to go to bed, where, before dropping off to
+sleep, he played with the baby. This left Mrs. Cavendish in full command
+of her floating dooryard. She smoked a reflective pipe, watching the
+river between puffs, and occasionally lending a hand at the sweeps.
+Later the family wash engaged her. It had neither beginning nor end, but
+serialized itself from day to day. Connie was already proficient at the
+tubs. It was a knack she was in no danger of losing.
+
+Keppel and Henry took turns at the sweeps, while the three smaller
+children began to manifest a love for the water they had not seemed
+to possess earlier in the day. They played along the edge of the raft,
+always in imminent danger of falling in, always being called back, or
+seized, just in time to prevent a catastrophe. This ceaseless activity
+on their part earned them much in the way of cuffings, chastisements
+which Mrs. Cavendish administered with no great spirit.
+
+“Drat you, why don't you go look at the pore gentleman instead of
+posterin' a body 'most to death!” she demanded at length, and they stole
+off on tiptoe to stare at Yancy. Presently Richard ran to his mother's
+side.
+
+“Come quick--he's mutterin' and mumblin' and moving his head!” he cried.
+It was as the child said. Yancy had roused from his heavy stupor. Words
+almost inaudible and quite inarticulate were issuing from his lips and
+there was a restless movement of his head on the pillow.
+
+“He 'pears powerful distressed about something,” said Mrs. Cavendish. “I
+reckon I'd better give him a little stimulant now.”
+
+While she was gone for the whisky, Connie, who had squatted down beside
+the bed, touched Yancy's hand which lay open. Instantly his fingers
+closed about hers and he was silent; the movement of his head ceased
+abruptly; but when she sought to withdraw her hand he began to murmur
+again.
+
+“I declare, what he wants is some one to sit beside him!” said Mrs.
+Cavendish, who had returned with the whisky, a few drops of which she
+managed to force between Yancy's lips. All the rest of that day some one
+of the children sat beside the wounded man, who was quiet and satisfied
+just as long as there was a small hand for him to hold.
+
+“He must be a family man,” observed Mr. Cavendish when Polly told him of
+this. “We'll tie up at Pleasantville landing and learn who he is.”
+
+“He had ought to have a doctor to look at them cuts of his,” said Mrs.
+Cavendish.
+
+It was late afternoon when the landing was reached. Half a score of men
+were loafing about the woodyard on shore. Mr. Cavendish made fast to
+a blasted tree, then he climbed the bank; the men regarding him
+incuriously as he approached.
+
+“Howdy,” said Cavendish genially.
+
+“Howdy,” they answered.
+
+“Where might I find the nearest doctor?” inquired Cavendish.
+
+“Within about six foot of you,” said one of the group.
+
+“Meaning yourself?”
+
+“Meaning myself.”
+
+Briefly Cavendish told the story of Yancy's rescue.
+
+“Now, Doc, I want you should cast an eye over the way we've dressed his
+cuts, and I want the rest of you to come and take a look at him and tell
+who he is and where he belongs,” he said in conclusion.
+
+“I'll know him if he belongs within forty miles of here in any
+direction,” said the doctor. But he shook his head when his eye rested
+on Yancy. “Never saw him,” he said briefly.
+
+“How about them bandages, Doc?” demanded Cavendish.
+
+“Oh, I reckon they'll do,” replied the doctor indifferently.
+
+“Will he live?”
+
+“I can't say. You'll know all about that inside the next forty-eight
+hours. Better let the rest have a look.”
+
+“Just feel of them bandages--sho', I got money in my pants!” Mr.
+Cavendish was rapidly losing his temper, yet he controlled himself until
+each man had taken a look at Yancy; but always with the same result--a
+shake of the head. “I reckon I can leave him here?” Cavendish asked,
+when the last man had looked and turned away.
+
+“Leave him here--why?” demanded the doctor slowly.
+
+“Because I'm going on, that's why. I'm headed for downstream, and he
+ain't in any sort of shape to say whether he wants to go or stop,”
+ explained Cavendish.
+
+“You picked him up, didn't you?” asked one of the men.
+
+“I certainly did,” said Cavendish.
+
+“Well, I reckon if you're so anxious for him to stay hereabout, you'd
+better stop, yourself,” said the owner of the woodyard. “There ain't a
+house within two miles of here but mine, and he don't go there!”
+
+“You're a healthy lot, you are!” said Cavendish. “I wonder your
+largeness of heart ain't ruptured your wishbones long ago!” So saying,
+he retired to the stern of his raft and leaned against the sweep-handle,
+apparently lost in thought. His visitors climbed the bank and
+reestablished themselves on the wood-ranks.
+
+Presently Mr. Cavendish lifted his voice and addressed Polly and the six
+little Cavendishes at the other end of the raft. He asserted that he was
+the only well-born man within a radius of perhaps a hundred miles--he
+excepted no one. He knew who his father and mother were, and they had
+been legally married--he seemed to infer that this was not always the
+case. Mr. Cavendish glanced toward the shore, then he lifted his voice
+again, giving it as his opinion that he was the only Christian seen in
+those parts in the last fifty years. He offered to fight any gentleman
+who felt disposed to challenge this assertion. He sprang suddenly aloft,
+knocked his bare heels together and uttered an ear-piercing whoop. He
+subsided and gazed off into the red eye of the sun which was slipping
+back of the trees. Presently he spoke again. He offered to lick any
+gentleman who felt aggrieved by his previous remarks, for fifty cents,
+for a drink of whisky, for a chew of tobacco, for nothing--with one hand
+tied behind him! He sprang aloft, cracked his heels together as before
+and crowed insultingly; then he subsided into silence. An instant later
+he appeared stung by the acutest pangs of remorse. In a cringing tone
+he begged Polly to forgive him for bringing her to such a place. He
+bewailed that they had risked pollution by allowing any inhabitant of
+that region to set foot on the raft--he feared for the innocent minds of
+their children, and he implored her pardon. Perhaps it was better that
+they should cast off at once--unless one of the gentlemen on shore felt
+himself insulted, in which event he would remain to fight.
+
+Then as he slowly worked the raft out toward the middle of the stream,
+he repeated all his former remarks, punctuating them with frequent
+whoops. He recapitulated the terms on which he could be induced to
+fight-fifty cents, a drink of liquor, a chew of tobacco, nothing! His
+shouts became fainter and fainter as the raft was swept down-stream, and
+finally died away in the distance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. THE JUDGE BREAKS JAIL
+
+
+The sheriff had brought the judge's supper. He reported that the
+crowd was dispersing, and that on the whole public sentiment was not
+particularly hostile; indeed, he went so far as to say there existed
+a strong undercurrent of satisfaction that the jail should have so
+speedily justified itself. Moreover, there was a disposition to exalt
+the judge as having furnished the crowning touch to the day's pleasure.
+
+“I reckon, sir, they'd have felt obliged to string you up if there
+wa'n't no jail,” continued the sheriff lazily from the open door where
+he had seated himself. “I don't say there ain't them who don't maintain
+you had ought to be strung up as it is, but people are funny, sir; the
+majority talk like they might wish to keep you here indefinite. There's
+no telling when we'll get another prisoner. Tomorrow the blacksmith will
+fix some iron bars to your window so folks can look in and see you. It
+will give a heap more air to the place--”
+
+“Unless I do get more air, you will not be troubled long by me!”
+ declared the judge in a tone of melancholy conviction.
+
+The building was intolerably hot, the advantages of ventilation having
+been a thing the citizens of Pleasantville had overlooked. But the judge
+was a reasonable soul; he was disposed to accept his immediate personal
+discomfort with a fine true philosophy; also, hope was stirring in his
+heart. Hope was second nature with him, for had he not lived all these
+years with the odds against him?
+
+“You do sweat some, don't you? Oh, well, a man can stand a right
+smart suffering from heat like this and not die. It's the sun that's
+dangerous,” remarked the sheriff consolingly. “And you had ought to
+suffer, sir! that's what folks are sent to jail for,” he added.
+
+“You will kindly bear in mind, sir, that I have been convicted of no
+crime!” retorted the judge.
+
+“If you hadn't been so blamed particular you might have had company;
+politest darky you would meet anywhere. Well, sir, I didn't think the
+boss orator of the day would be the first prisoner--the joke certainly
+is on you!”
+
+“I never saw such bloody-minded ruffians! Keep them out and keep me
+in--all I ask is to vindicate myself in the eyes of the world,” said the
+judge.
+
+“Well,” began the sheriff severely, “ain't it enough to make 'em
+bloody-minded? Any one of 'em might have taken your money and got stuck.
+Just to think of that is what hets them up.” He regarded the judge with
+a glance of displeasure. “I hate to see a man so durn unreasonable in
+his p'int of view. And you picked a lady--a widow-lady--say, ain't you
+ashamed?”
+
+“Well, sir, what's going to happen to me?” demanded the judge angrily.
+
+“I reckon you'll be tried. I reckon the law will deal with you--that is,
+if the public remains ca'm. Maybe it will come to the conclusion that
+it'd prefer a lynching--people are funny.” He seemed to detach himself
+from the possible current of events.
+
+“And, waking and sleeping, I have that before me!” cried the judge
+bitterly.
+
+“You had ought to have thought of that sooner, when you was unloading
+that money. Why, it ain't even good counterfeit! I wonder a man of your
+years wa'n't slicker.”
+
+“Have you taken steps to find the boy, or Solomon Mahaffy?” inquired the
+judge.
+
+“For what?”
+
+“How is my innocence going to be established--how am I going to clear
+myself if my witnesses are hounded out of the county?”
+
+“I love to hear you talk, sir. I told 'em at the raising to-day that
+I considered you one of the most eloquent minds I had ever listened
+to--but naturally, sir, you are too smart to be honest. You say you
+ain't been convicted yet; but you're going to be! There's quite a
+scramble for places on the jury already. There was pistols drawed up at
+the tavern by some of our best people, sir, who got het up disputin' who
+was eligible to serve.” The judge groaned. “You should be thankful them
+pistols wasn't drawed on you, sir,” said the sheriff amiably. “You've
+got a heap to be grateful about; for we've had one lynching, and we've
+rid one or two parties on a rail after giving 'em a coat of tar and
+feathers.”
+
+The judge shuddered. The sheriff continued placidly:
+
+“I'll take it you'll get all that's coming to you, sir, say about twenty
+years--that had ought to let you out easy. Sort of round out your
+earthly career, and leave something due you t'other side of Jordan.”
+
+“I suppose there is no use in my pointing out to you that I did not
+know the money was counterfeit, and that I was quite innocent of
+any intention to defraud Mrs. Walker?” said the judge, with a weary,
+exasperated air.
+
+“It don't make no difference where you got the money; you know that, for
+you set up to be some sort of a lawyer.”
+
+Presently the sheriff went his way into the dusk of the evening, and
+night came swiftly to fellowship the judge's fears. A single moonbeam
+found its way into the place, making a thin rift in the darkness. The
+judge sat down on the three-legged stool, which, with a shake-down
+bed, furnished the jail. His loneliness was a great wave of misery that
+engulfed him.
+
+“Well, just so my life ain't cut short!” he whispered.
+
+He had known a varied career, and what he was pleased to call his
+unparalleled misfortunes had reduced him to all kinds of desperate
+shifts to live, but never before had the law laid its hands on him.
+True, there had been times and seasons when he had been grateful for the
+gloom of the dark ways he trod, for echoes had taken the place of the
+living voice that had once spoken to his soul; but he could still rest
+his hand upon his heart and say that the law had always nodded to him to
+pass on.
+
+Where was Solomon Mahaffy, and where Hannibal? He felt that Mahaffy
+could fend for himself, but he experienced a moment of genuine concern
+when he thought of the child. In spite of himself, his thoughts returned
+to him again and again. But surely some one would shelter and care for
+him!
+
+“Yes--and work him like a horse, and probably abuse him into the
+bargain--”
+
+Then there was a scarcely audible rustle on the margin of the woods, a
+dry branch snapped loudly. A little pause succeeded in which the judge's
+heart stood still. Next a stealthy step sounded in the clearing. The
+judge had an agonized vision of regulators and lynchers. The beat of his
+pulse quickened. He knew something of the boisterous horseplay of the
+frontier. The sheriff had spoken of tar and feathers--very quietly he
+stood erect and picked up the stool.
+
+“Heaven helping me, I'll brain a citizen or two before it comes to
+that!” he told himself.
+
+The cautious steps continued to approach. Some one paused below the
+closely shuttered window, and a hand struck the boards sharply. A
+whisper stole into the jail.
+
+“Are you awake, Price?” It was Mahaffy who spoke.
+
+“God bless you, Solomon Mahaffy!” cried the judge unsteadily.
+
+“I've got the boy--he's with me,” said Mahaffy.
+
+“God bless you both!” repeated the judge brokenly. “Take care of him,
+Solomon. I feel better now, knowing he's in good hands.”
+
+“Please, Judge--” it was Hannibal
+
+“Yes, dear lad?”
+
+“I'm mighty sorry that ten dollars I loaned you was bad--but you don't
+need ever to pay it back!”
+
+Mahaffy gave way to mirth.
+
+“Never mind!” said the judge indulgently. “It performed all the
+essential functions of a perfectly legal currency. Just suppose we had
+discovered it was counterfeit before I took it to the tavern--that would
+have been a hardship!”
+
+“It were Captain Murrell gave it to me,” explained Hannibal.
+
+“I consecrate myself to his destruction! Judge Slocum Price can not be
+humiliated with impunity!”
+
+“I should think you would save your wind, Price, until you'd waddled out
+of danger!” Mahaffy spoke, gruffly.
+
+“How are you going to get me out of this, Solomon--for I suppose you are
+here to break jail for me,” said the judge.
+
+Mahaffy inspected the building. He found that the door was secured by
+two ponderous hasps to which were fitted heavy padlocks, but the solid
+wooden shutter which closed the square hole in the gable that served as
+a window was fastened by a hasp and peg. He withdrew the peg, opened
+the shutter, and the judge's face, wreathed in smiles, appeared at the
+aperture.
+
+“The blessed sky and air!” he murmured, breathing deep. “A week of this
+would have broken my spirit!”
+
+“If you can, Price, you'd better come feet first,” suggested Mahaffy.
+
+“Not sufficiently acrobatic, Solomon--it's heads or I lose!” said the
+judge.
+
+He thrust his shoulders into the opening and wriggled outward. Suddenly
+his forward movement was arrested.
+
+“I was afraid of that!” he said, with a rather piteous smile. “It's
+my stomach, Solomon!” Mahaffy seized him by the shoulders with lean
+muscular hands. “Pull!” cried the judge hoarsely. But Mahaffy's vigorous
+efforts failed to move him.
+
+“I guess you're stuck, Price!”
+
+“Get your wind, Solomon,” urged the judge, “and then, if Hannibal will
+reach up and work about my middle with his knuckles while you pull, I
+may get through.” But even this expedient failed.
+
+“Do you reckon you can get me back? I should not care to spend the night
+so!” said the judge. He was purple and panting.
+
+“Let's try you edgewise!” And Mahaffy pushed the judge into the jail
+again.
+
+“No,” said the judge, after another period of resolute effort on his
+part and on the part of Mahaffy. “Providence has been kind to me in
+the past, but it's clear she didn't have me in mind when they cut this
+hole.”
+
+“Well, Price, I guess all we can do is to go back to town and see if I
+can get into my cabin--I've got an old saw there. If I can find it,
+I can come again to-morrow night and cut away one of the logs, or the
+cleats of the door.”
+
+“In Heaven's name, do that to-night, Solomon!” implored the judge. “Why
+procrastinate?”
+
+“Price, there's a pack of dogs in this neighborhood, and we must have
+a full night to move in, or they'll pull us down before we've gone ten
+miles!”
+
+The judge groaned.
+
+“You're right, Solomon; I'd forgotten the dogs,” and he groaned again.
+
+Mahaffy closed and fastened the shutter, then he and Hannibal stole
+across the clearing and entered the woods. The judge flung off his
+clothes and went to bed, determined to sleep away as many hours as
+possible. He was only aroused by the arrival of his breakfast, which the
+sheriff brought about eight o'clock.
+
+“Well, if I was in your boots I couldn't sleep like you!” remarked that
+official admiringly. “But I reckon, sir, this ain't the first time the
+penitentiary has stared you in the face.”
+
+“Then you reckon wrong,” said the judge sententiously, as he hauled on
+his trousers.
+
+“No?--you needn't hurry none. I'll get them dishes when I fetch your
+dinner,” he added, as he took his leave.
+
+A little later the blacksmith appeared and fitted three iron bars to the
+window.
+
+“I reckon that'll hold you, old feller!” he observed pleasantly.
+
+He was disposed to linger, since he was interested in the mechanical
+means employed in the making of counterfeit money and thirsted for
+knowledge at first hand. Also, he had in his possession a one-dollar
+bill which had come to him in the way of trade and which local experts
+had declared to be a spurious production. He passed it in between the
+bars and demanded the judge's opinion of it as though he were the first
+authority in the land. But he went no wiser than he came.
+
+It was nearing the noon hour when the judge's solitude was again
+invaded. He first heard the distant murmur of voices on the road and
+passed an uneasy and restless ten minutes, with his eye to a crack in
+the door. He was soothed and reassured, however, when at last he caught
+sight of the sheriff.
+
+“Well, judge, I got company for you,” cried the sheriff cheerfully, as
+he threw open the door. “A hoss-thief!”
+
+He pushed into the building a man, hatless and coatless, with a pair
+of pale villainous eyes and a tobacco-stained chin. The judge viewed the
+new-comer with disfavor. As for the horse-thief, he gave his companion
+in misery a coldly critical stare, seated himself on the stool, and with
+quite a fierce air devoted all his energy to mastication. He neither
+altered his position nor changed his expression until he and the judge
+were alone, then, catching the judge's eye, he made what seemed a casual
+movement with his hand, the three fingers raised; but to the judge this
+clearly was without significance, and the horse-thief manifested no
+further interest where he was concerned. He did not even condescend to
+answer the one or two civil remarks the judge addressed to him.
+
+As the long afternoon wore itself away, the judge lived through the many
+stages of doubt and uncertainty, for suppose anything had happened to
+Mahaffy! When the sheriff came with his supper he asked him if he had
+seen or heard of his friend.
+
+“Judge, I reckon he's lopin' on yet. I never seen a man of his years
+run as well as he done--it was inspirin' how he got over the ground!”
+ answered the sheriff. Then he attempted conversation with the
+horse-thief, but was savagely cursed for his pains. “Well, I don't envy
+you your company none, sir,” he remarked as he took leave of the judge.
+
+Standing before the window, the judge watched the last vestige of light
+fade from the sky and the stars appear. Would Mahaffy come? The suspense
+was intolerable. It was possibly eight o'clock. He could not reasonably
+expect Mahaffy until nine or half past; to come earlier would be too
+great a risk. Suddenly out of the silence sounded a long-drawn whistle.
+Three times it was repeated. The horse-thief leaped to his feet.
+
+“Neighbor, that means me!” he cried.
+
+The moon was rising now, and by its light the judge saw a number of
+horsemen appear on the edge of the woods. They entered the clearing,
+picking their way among the stumps without haste or confusion. When
+quite close, five of the band dismounted; the rest continued on about
+the jail or cantered off toward the road. By this time the judge's teeth
+were chattering and he was dripping cold sweat at every pore. He
+prayed earnestly that they might hang the horsethief and spare him. The
+dismounted men took up a stick of timber that had been cut for the jail
+and not used.
+
+“Look out inside, there!” cried a voice, and the log was dashed against
+the door; once--twice--it rose and fell on the clapboards, and under
+those mighty thuds grew up a wide gap through which the moonlight
+streamed splendidly. The horse-thief stepped between the dangling cleats
+and vanished. The judge, armed with the stool, stood at bay.
+
+“What next?” a voice asked.
+
+“Get dry brush--these are green logs--we'll burn this jail!”
+
+“Hold on!” the judge recognized the horse-thief as the speaker. “There's
+an old party in there! No need to singe him!”
+
+“Friend?”
+
+“No, I tried him.”
+
+The judge tossed away the stool. He understood now that these men were
+neither lynchers nor regulators. With a confident, not to say jaunty
+step, he emerged from the jail.
+
+“Your servant, gentlemen!” he said, lifting his hat.
+
+“Git!” said one of the men briefly, and the judge moved nimbly away
+toward the woods. He had gained its shelter when the jail began to glow
+redly.
+
+Now to find Solomon and the boy, and then to put the miles between
+himself and Pleasantville with all diligence. As he thought this, almost
+at his elbow Mahaffy and Hannibal rose from behind a fallen log. The
+Yankee motioned for silence and pointed west.
+
+“Yes,” breathed the judge. He noted that Mahaffy had a heavy pack, and
+the boy his long rifle. For a mile or two they moved forward without
+speech, the boy in the lead; while at his heels strode Mahaffy, with the
+judge bringing up the rear.
+
+“How do you feel, Price?” asked Mahaffy at length, over his shoulder.
+
+“Like one come into a fortune! Those horse-thieves gave me a fine scare,
+but did me a good turn.”
+
+Hannibal kept to the woods by a kind of instinct, and the two men
+yielded themselves to his guidance; but there was no speech between
+them. Mahaffy trod in the boy's steps, and the judge, puffing like an
+overworked engine, came close upon his heels. In this way they continued
+to advance for an hour or more, then the boy paused.
+
+“Go on!” commanded Mahaffy.
+
+“Do you 'low the judge can stand it?” asked Hannibal.
+
+“Bless you, lad!” panted the judge feelingly.
+
+“He's got to stand it--either that, or what do you suppose will happen
+to us if they start their dogs?” said Mahaffy.
+
+“Solomon's right--you are sure we are not going in a circle, Hannibal?”
+
+“Yes, I'm sure,” said Hannibal. “Do you see that star? My Uncle Bob
+learned me how I was to watch that star when I wanted to keep going
+straight.”
+
+There was another long interval of silence. Bit by bit the sky became
+overcast. Vague, fleecy rifts of clouds appeared in the heavens. A wind
+sprang up, murmuring about them, there came a distant roll of thunder,
+while along the horizon the lightning rushed in broken, jagged lines of
+fire. In the east there was a pale flush that showed the black, hurrying
+clouds the winds had summoned out of space.
+
+The booming thunder, first only the sullen menace of the approaching
+storm, rolled nearer and nearer, and the fierce light came in blinding
+sheets of flame. A ceaseless, pauseless murmur sprang up out of the
+distance, and the trees rocked with a mighty crashing of branches, while
+here and there a big drop of rain fell. Then the murmur swelled into a
+roar as the low clouds disgorged themselves. Drenched to the skin on the
+instant, the two men and the boy stumbled forward through the gray wake
+of the storm.
+
+“What's come of our trail now?” shouted the judge, but the sound of his
+voice was lost in the rush of the hurrying winds and the roar of the
+airy cascades that fell about them.
+
+An hour passed. There was light under the trees, faint, impalpable
+without visible cause, but they caught the first sparkle of the rain
+drops on leaf and branch; they saw the silvery rivulets coursing down
+the mossy trunks of old trees; last of all through a narrow rift in
+the clouds, the sun showed them its golden rim, and day broke in the
+steaming woods. With the sun, with a final rush of the hurrying wind, a
+final torrent, the storm spent itself, and there was only the drip from
+bough and leaf, or pearly opalescent points of moisture on the drenched
+black trunks of maple and oak; a sapphire sky, high arched, remote
+overhead; and the June day all about.
+
+“What's come of they trail now?” cried the judge again. “He'll be a good
+dog that follows it through, these woods!”
+
+They had paused on a thickly wooded hillside.
+
+“We've come eight or ten miles if we have come a rod, Price,” said
+Mahaffy, “and I am in favor of lying by for the day. When it comes dark
+we can go on again.”
+
+The judge readily acquiesced in this, and they presently found a dense
+thicket which they cautiously entered. Reaching the center of the
+tangled growth, they beat down the briers and bushes, or cut them away
+with their knives, until they had a little cleared space where they
+could build a fire. Then from the pack which Mahaffy carried, the
+rudiments of a simple but filling meal were produced.
+
+“Your parents took no chances when they named you Solomon!” said the
+judge approvingly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. BELLE PLAIN
+
+
+“Now, Tom,” said Betty, with a bustling little air of excitement as she
+rose from the breakfast table that first morning at Belle Plain, “I am
+ready if you are. I want you to show me everything!”
+
+“I reckon you'll notice some changes,” remarked Tom.
+
+He went from the room and down the hall a step or two in advance of her.
+On the wide porch Betty paused, breathing deep. The house stood on an
+eminence; directly before it at the bottom of the slight descent was a
+small bayou, beyond this the forest stretched away in one unbroken mass
+to the Mississippi. Here and there, gleaming in the brilliant morning
+light, some great bend of the river was visible through the trees, while
+the Arkansas coast, blue and distant, piled up against the far horizon.
+
+“What is it you want to see, anyhow, Betty?” Tom demanded, turning on
+her.
+
+“Everything--the place, Tom--Belle Plain! Oh, isn't it beautiful! I had
+no idea how lovely it was!” cried Betty, as with her eyes still fixed on
+the distant panorama of woods and water she went down the steps, Tom
+at her heels--he bet she'd get sick of it all soon enough, that was one
+comfort!
+
+“Why, Tom! Why does the lawn look like this?”
+
+“Like what?” inquired Tom.
+
+“Why, this--all weeds and briers, and the paths overgrown?” and as Betty
+surveyed the unkempt waste that had once been a lawn, a little frown
+fixed itself on her smooth brow.
+
+Mr. Ware rubbed his chin reflectively with the back of his hand.
+
+“That sort of thing looked all right, Bet,” he said, “but it kept five
+or six of the best hands out of the fields right at the busiest time of
+the year.”
+
+“Haven't I slaves enough?” she asked.
+
+The dull color crept into Ware's cheeks. He hated her for that “I!” So
+she was going to come that on him, was she? And he'd worked himself like
+a horse to bring in more land. Why, he'd doubled the acreage in cotton
+and corn in the last four years! He smothered his sense of hurt and
+indignation.
+
+“Don't you want to see the crops, Bet? Let me order a team and show you
+about, you couldn't walk over the place in a week!” he urged.
+
+The girl shook her head and moved swiftly down the path that led from
+terrace to terrace to the margin of the bayou. At the first terrace she
+paused. All below was a wilderness of tangled vines and brush. She faced
+Tom rather piteously. What had been lost was more than he could possibly
+understand. Her father had planned these grounds which he was allowing a
+riotous second growth to swallow up.
+
+“It's positively squalid!” cried Betty, with a little stamp of her foot.
+
+Ware glanced about with dull eyes. The air of neglect and decay which
+was everywhere visible, and which was such a shock to Betty, had not
+been reached in a season, he was really convinced that the place looked
+pretty much as it had always looked.
+
+“I'll tell you, Betty, I'm busy this morning; you poke about and see
+what you want done and we'll do it,” he said, and made a hasty retreat
+to his office, a little brick building at the other side of the house.
+
+Betty returned to the porch and seating herself on the top step with her
+elbows on her knees and her chin sunk in the palms of her hands, gazed
+about her miserably enough. She was still seated there when half an hour
+later Charley Norton galloped up the drive from the highroad. Catching
+sight of her on the porch he sprang from the saddle, and, throwing his
+reins to a black boy, hurried to her side.
+
+“Inspecting your domain, Betty?” he asked, as he took his place near her
+on the step.
+
+“Why didn't you tell me, Charley--or at least prepare me for this?” she
+asked, almost tearfully.
+
+“How was I to know, Betty? I haven't been here since you went away,
+dear--what was there to bring me? Old Tom would make a cow pasture out
+of the Garden of Eden, wouldn't he--a beautiful, practical, sordid soul
+he is!”
+
+“What am I going to do, Charley?”
+
+“Keep after him until you get what you want, it's the only way to manage
+Tom that I know of.”
+
+“It's horrid to have to assert one's self!”
+
+“You'll have to with Tom--you must, Betty--he won't understand anything
+else.” Then he added: “Let's look around and see what's needed, a season
+or two of care will remedy the most of this neglect. Just make Tom put a
+lot of hands in here with brush-hooks and axes and soon you'll not know
+the place!”
+
+Norton spent the day at Belle Plain; and though he was there on his good
+behavior as the result of an agreement they had reached on board The
+Naiad, he proposed twice.
+
+“My intentions are all right, Betty,” he assured her in extenuation.
+“But I've the worst memory imaginable. Oh, yes, the lower terrace is
+badly gullied, but it's no great matter, it can be fixed with a little
+work.”
+
+It was soon plain to Betty that Tom's ideals, if he possessed any,
+had not led him in the direction of what he termed display. His social
+impulse had suffered atrophy. The house was utterly disorganized; there
+was a dearth of suitable servants. Those she had known were gone--sold,
+she learned. Tom explained that there had been no need for them since
+he had lived pretty much in his office, what had been the use in keeping
+darkies standing about doing nothing? He had got rid of those show
+niggers and put their price in husky field hands, who could be made to
+do a day's work and not feel they were abused.
+
+But Tom was mistaken in his supposition that Betty would soon tire of
+Belle Plain. She demanded men, and teams, and began on the lawns. This
+interested and fascinated her. She was out at sun-up to direct her
+laborers. She had the advantage of Charley Norton's presence and advice
+for the greater part of each day in the week, and Sundays he came to
+look over what had been accomplished, and, as Tom firmly believed, to
+put that little fool up to fresh nonsense. He could have booted him!
+
+As the grounds took shape before her delighted eyes, Betty found leisure
+to institute a thorough reformation indoors. A number of house servants
+were rescued from the quarters and she began to instruct them in their
+new duties.
+
+Tom was sick at heart. The little fool would cripple the place. It gave
+him acute nausea to see the gangs at work about the lawns; it made him
+sicker to pass through the house. There were five or six women in the
+kitchen now--he was damned if he could see what they found to do--there
+was a butler and a page. Betty had levied on the stables for one of the
+best teams to draw the family carriage, which had not been in use since
+her mother's death; there was a coachman for that, and another little
+monkey to ride on the rumble and hop down and open gates. This came of
+sending girls away to school--they only learned foolishness.
+
+And those niggers about the house had to be dressed for their new
+work; the butler, a cracking plow-hand he was, wore better clothes than
+he--Tom--did. No wonder he was sick;--and waste! Tom knew all about that
+when the bills began to come in from Memphis. Why, that pink-faced chit,
+he always referred to her in his own mind now as a pink-faced chit, was
+evolving a scheme of life that would cost eight or ten thousand dollars
+a year to maintain, and she was talking of decorators for the house,
+either from New Orleans or Philadelphia, and new furniture from top to
+bottom.
+
+Tom felt that he was being robbed. Then he realized with a sense of
+shock that here was a fortune of over half a million in lands and slaves
+which he had managed and manipulated all these years, but which was not
+his. It was true that under the terms of his stepmother's will he would
+inherit it in the event of Betty's death--well, she looked like dying,
+a whole lot--she was as strong as a mule, those soft rounded curves
+covered plenty of vigorous muscle; Tom hated the very sight of her. A
+pink-faced chit bubbling over with life and useless energy, a perfect
+curse she was, with all sorts of extravagant tastes and he was powerless
+to check her, for, although he was still her guardian, there were
+certain provisions of the will--he consulted the copy he kept locked up
+in his desk in the office--that permitted her to do pretty much as
+she pleased with her income. It was a hell of a will! She could spend
+fifteen or twenty thousand dollars a year if she wanted to and he
+couldn't prevent it. It was an iniquitous document!
+
+Well, the place could go straight off to the devil, he wouldn't wear out
+his life economizing for her to waste--he didn't get a thank-you--and he
+knew that nobody took off the land bigger crops than he did, while bale
+for bale his cotton outsold all other cotton raised in the county--that
+was the kind of a manager he was. He wagged his head in self-approval.
+And what did he get out of it? A lump sum each year with a further
+lump sum of twenty thousand dollars when she came of age--soon now--or
+married. Tom's eyes bulged from their sockets--she'd be doing that next,
+to spite him!
+
+Betty's sphere of influence rapidly extended itself. She soon began to
+have her doubts concerning the treatment accorded the slaves, and was
+not long in discovering that Hicks, the overseer, ran things with a
+heavy hand. Matters reached a crisis one day when, happening to ride
+through the quarters, she found him disciplining a refractory black.
+She turned sick at the sight. Here was a slave actually being whipped
+by another slave while Hicks stood looking on with his hands in his
+pockets, and with a brutal satisfied air. When he caught sight of the
+girl, he sang out,
+
+“That'll do; he's had enough, I reckon, to learn him!” He added sullenly
+to Betty, “Sorry you seen this, Miss!”
+
+“How dare you order such a punishment without authority!” cried Betty
+furiously.
+
+Hicks gave her a black scowl.
+
+“I don't need no authority to whip a shirker,” he said insolently, as he
+turned away.
+
+“Stop!” commanded Betty, her eyes blazing. She strove to keep her voice
+steady. “You shall not remain at Belle Plain another hour.”
+
+Hicks said nothing. He knew it would take more than her saying so to
+get him off the place. Betty turned her horse and galloped back to the
+house. She felt that she was in no condition to see Tom just at that
+moment, and dismounting at the door ran up-stairs to her room.
+
+Meantime the overseer sought out Ware in his office. His manner
+of stating his grievance was singular. He began by swearing at his
+employer. He had been insulted before all the quarter--his rage fairly
+choked him, he could not speak.
+
+Tom seized the opportunity to swear back. He wanted to know if he
+hadn't troubles enough without the overseer's help? If he'd got himself
+insulted it was his own affair and he could lump it, generally speaking,
+and get out of that office! But Tom's fury quickly spent itself. He
+wanted to know what the matter was.
+
+“Sent you off the place, did she; well, you'll have to eat crow. I'll do
+all I can. I don't know what girls were ever made for anyhow, damned if
+I do!” he added plaintively, as a realization of a stupendous mistake on
+the part of nature overwhelmed him.
+
+Hicks consented to eat crow only after Mr. Ware had cursed and cajoled
+him into a better and more forgiving frame of mind. Then Tom hurried off
+to find Betty and put matters right; a more difficult task than he had
+reckoned on, for Betty was obdurate and her indignation flared up at
+mention of the incident; all his powers of argument and persuasion were
+called into requisition before she would consent to Hicks remaining, and
+then only on that most uncertain tenure, his good behavior.
+
+“Now you come up to the house,” said Tom, when he had won his point and
+gone back to Hicks, “and get done with it. I reckon you talked when you
+should have kept your blame familiar mouth shut! Come on, and get it
+over with, and say you're sorry.”
+
+Later, after Hicks had made his apology, the two men smoked a friendly
+pipe and discussed the situation. Tom pointed out that opposition was
+useless, a losing game, you could get your way by less direct means. She
+wouldn't stay long at Belle Plain, but while she did remain they must
+avoid any more crises of the sort through which they had just passed,
+and presently; she'd be sick of the place. Tom wagged his head. She was
+sick of it already only she hadn't the sense to know it. It wasn't good
+enough. Nothing suited-the house--the grounds--nothing!
+
+In the midst of her activities Betty occasionally found time to think
+of Bruce Carrington. She was sure she did not wish to see him again! But
+when three weeks had passed she began to feel incensed that he had not
+appeared. She thought of him with hot cheeks and a quickening beat of
+the heart. It was anger. Naturally she was very indignant, as she had
+every right to be! He was the first man who had dared--!
+
+Then one day when she had decided for ever to banish all memory of
+him from her mind, and never, under any circumstances, to think of him
+again, he presented himself at Belle Plain.
+
+She was in her room just putting the finishing touches to an especially
+satisfying toilet when her maid tapped on the door and told her there
+was a gentleman in the parlor who wished to see her.
+
+“Is it Mr. Norton?” asked Betty.
+
+“No, Miss--he didn't give no name, Miss.”
+
+When Betty entered the parlor a moment later she saw her caller standing
+with his back turned toward her as he gazed from one of the windows, but
+she instantly recognized those broad shoulders, and the fine poise of
+the shapely head that surmounted them.
+
+“Oh, Mr. Carrington--” and Betty stopped short, while her face grew
+rather pale and then crimsoned. Then she advanced quite boldly and held
+out a frigid hand, which he took carefully. “I didn't know--so you are
+alive--you disappeared so suddenly that night--”
+
+“Yes, I'm alive,” he said, and then with a smile. “But I fear before you
+get through with me we'll both wish I were not, Betty.”
+
+“Don't call me Betty.”
+
+“Who was that man who met you at New Madrid? He can't have you, whoever
+he is!” His eyes dwelt on her tenderly, and the remembered spell of her
+fresh youthful beauty deepened itself for him.
+
+“Perhaps he doesn't want me--”
+
+“Yes, he does. That was plain as day.”
+
+Betty surveyed him from under her lashes. What could she do with this
+man? Nothing affected him. He seemed to have crossed some intangible
+barrier and to stand closer to her than any other man had ever stood.
+
+“Do you still hate me, Betty--Miss Malroy--is there anything I can say
+or do that will make you forgive me?” He looked at her penitently.
+
+But Betty hardened her heart against him and prepared to keep him in
+place. Remembering that he was still holding her hand, she recovered it.
+
+“Will you sit down?” she indicated a chair. He seated himself and Betty
+put a safe distance between them. “Are you staying in the neighborhood,
+Mr. Carrington?” she asked, rather unkindly. How did he dare come here
+when she had forgotten him and her annoyance? And now the sight of him
+brought back memories of that disagreeable night on that horrid boat--he
+had deceived her about that boat, too--she would never forgive him for
+that--she had trusted him and he had clearly shown that he was not to be
+trusted; and Betty closed her pretty mouth until it was a thin red line
+and looked away that she might not see his hateful face.
+
+“No, I'm not staying in the neighborhood. When I left you, I made up my
+mind I'd wait at New Madrid until I could come on down here and say I
+was sorry.”
+
+“And it's taken you all this time?”
+
+Carrington regarded her seriously.
+
+“I reckon I must have come for more time, Betty--Miss Malroy.” In spite
+of herself, Betty glowed under the caressing humor of his tone.
+
+“Really--you must have chosen poorly then when you selected New Madrid.
+It couldn't have been a good place for your purpose.”
+
+“I think if I could have made up my mind to stay there long enough, it
+would have answered,” said Carrington. “But when a down-river boat tied
+up 'there yesterday it was more than I could stand. You 'see there's
+danger in a town like New Madrid of getting too sorry. I thought we'd
+better discuss this point--”
+
+“Mayn't I show you Belle Plain?” asked Betty quickly.
+
+But Carrington shook his head.
+
+“I don't care anything about that,” he said. “I didn't come here to see
+Belle Plain.”
+
+“You certainly are candid,” said Betty.
+
+“I intend to be honest with you always.”
+
+“Dear me--but I don't know that I shall particularly like it. Do
+you think it was quite fair to select the boat you did, or was your
+resolution to be always honest formed later?” demanded Betty severely.
+
+He looked at her with great sweetness of expression.
+
+“I didn't advise that boat for speed, only for safety. Betty, doesn't
+it mean anything to you that I love you? I admit that I wish it had been
+twice as slow!” he added reflectively, as an afterthought. He looked at
+her steadily, and Betty's dark lashes drooped as the color mounted to
+her face.
+
+“I don't,” she said quickly. She rose from her chair, and Carrington
+followed her example with a lithe movement that bespoke muscles in good
+training. She led the way through the wide hall and out to the porch.
+
+“Now I am going to show you all over the place,” she announced
+resolutely. She stood on the top step, looking off into the flaming
+west where the sun rode low in the heavens. “Isn't it lovely, Mr.
+Carrington, isn't it beautiful?”
+
+“Very beautiful!” Carrington's glance was fixed on her face.
+
+“If you don't care to see Belle Plain,” began Betty, rather indignantly.
+“No, I don't, Betty. This is enough for me. I'll come for that some
+other time if you'll be good enough to let me?”
+
+“Then you expect to remain in the neighborhood?”
+
+“I've given up the river, and I'm going to get hold of some land--”
+
+“Land?” said Betty, with a rising inflection.
+
+“Yes, land.”
+
+“I thought you were a river-man?”
+
+“I'm a river-man no longer. I am going to be a planter now. But I'll
+tell you why, and all about it some other day.” Then he held out his
+hand. “Goodby,” he added.
+
+“Are you going--good-by, Mr. Carrington,” and Betty's fingers tingled
+with his masterful clasp long after he had gone.
+
+Carrington sauntered slowly down the path to the highroad.
+
+“She didn't ask me to come back--an oversight,” he told himself
+cheerfully.
+
+Just beyond the gates he met that same young fellow he had seen at
+New Madrid. Norton nodded good-naturedly as he passed, and Carrington,
+glancing back, saw that he turned in at Belle Plain. He shrugged his
+shoulders, and went on his way not rejoicing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT BOGGS'
+
+
+The judge's faith in the reasonableness of mankind having received a
+staggering blow, there began a somewhat furtive existence for himself,
+for Solomon Mahaffy, and for the boy. They kept to little frequented
+byways, and usually it was the early hours of morning, or the cool of
+late afternoons when they took the road.
+
+The heat of silent middays found them lounging beside shady pools, where
+the ripple of fretted waters filled the pauses in their talk. It was
+then that the judge and Mahaffy exchanged views on literature and
+politics, on religion and politics, on the public debt and politics, on
+canals and national roads and more politics. They could and did honestly
+differ at great length and with unflagging energy on these vital topics,
+especially politics, for they were as far apart mentally as they were
+close together morally.
+
+Mahaffy, morose and embittered, regarded the life they were living as
+an unmixed hardship. The judge entered upon it with infinite zest. He
+displayed astonishing adaptability, while he brought all the resources
+of a calm and modest knowledge to bear on the vexed problem of procuring
+sustenance for himself and for his two companions.
+
+“To an old campaigner like me, nothing could be more delightful than
+this holiday, coming as it does on the heels of grinding professional
+activity,” he observed to Mahaffy. “This is the way our first parents
+lived--close to nature, in touch with her gracious beneficence! Sir,
+this experience is singularly refreshing after twenty years of slaving
+at the desk. If any man can grasp the possibilities of a likely looking
+truck-patch at a glance, I am that man, and as for getting around in the
+dark and keeping the lay of the land--well, I suppose it's my military
+training. Jackson always placed the highest value on such data as I
+furnished him. He leaned on me more than any other man, Solomon--”
+
+“I've heard he stood up pretty straight,” said Mahaffy affably.
+The judge's abandoned conduct distressed him not a little, but his
+remonstrances had been in vain.
+
+“I consider that when society subjected me to the indignity of arrest, I
+was relieved of all responsibility. Injustice must bear its own fruit,”
+ the judge had answered him sternly.
+
+His beginnings had been modest enough: a few ears of corn, a few hills
+of potatoes, and the like, had satisfied him; then one night he appeared
+in camp with two streaks of scarlet down the side of his face.
+
+“Are you hurt, Price?” demanded Mahaffy, betraying an anxiety of which
+he was instantly ashamed.
+
+“Let me relieve your apprehension, Solomon; it's only a trickle of
+stewed fruit. I folded a couple of pies and put them in the crown of my
+hat,” explained the judge.
+
+“You mean you've been in somebody's springhouse?”
+
+“It was unlocked, Solomon, This will be a warning to the owner. I
+consider I have done him a kindness.”
+
+Thus launched on a career of plunder, the judge very speedily
+accumulated a water bucket--useful when one wished to milk a cow--an ax
+from a woodpile, a kettle from a summer kitchen, a tin of soft soap, and
+an excellent blanket from a wash-line.
+
+“For the boy, Solomon,” he said gently, when he caught Mahaffy's steady
+disapproving glance fixed upon him as he displayed this last trophy.
+
+“What sort of an example are you setting him?”
+
+“The world is full of examples I'd not recommend, Solomon. One must
+learn to discriminate. A body can no more follow all the examples than
+he can follow all the roads, and I submit that the ends of morality can
+as well be served in showing a child what he should not do as in showing
+him what he should. Indeed, I don't know but it's the finer educational
+idea!”
+
+Thereafter the judge went through the land with an eye out for
+wash-lines.
+
+“I'm looking for a change of linen for the boy, Solomon,” he said. “Let
+me bring you a garment or two. Eh--how few men you'll find of my build;
+those last shirts I got were tight around the armholes and had no more
+tail than a rabbit!”
+
+Two nights later Mr. Mahaffy accepted a complete change of under linen,
+but without visible sign of gratitude.
+
+A night later the judge disappeared from camp, and after a prolonged
+absence returned puffing and panting with three watermelons, which
+proved to be green, since his activity had been much in advance of the
+season.
+
+“I don't suppose there is any greater tax on human ingenuity than to
+carry three watermelons!” he remarked. “The human structure is ideally
+adapted to the transportation of two--it can be done with comfort; but
+when a body tackles three he finds that nature herself is opposed to the
+proceeding! Well, I am going back for a bee-gum I saw in a fence corner.
+Hannibal will enjoy that--a child is always wanting sweets!”
+
+In this fashion they fared gaily across the state, but as they neared
+the Mississippi the judge began to consider the future. His bright
+and illuminating intelligence dealt with this problem in all its
+many-sidedness.
+
+“I wish you'd enter one of the learned professions, Solomon--have you
+ever thought of medicine?” he inquired. Mr. Mahaffy laughed. “But why
+not, Solomon? There is nothing like a degree or a title--that always
+stamps a man, gives him standing--”
+
+“What do I know about the human system?”
+
+“I should certainly hope you know as much as the average doctor knows.
+We could locate in one of these new towns where they have the river on
+one side and the canal on the other, and where everybody has the ague--”
+
+“What do I know about medicine?” inquired Mahaffy.
+
+“As much as Aesculapius, no doubt--even he had to make a beginning. The
+torch of science wasn't lit in a day--you must be willing to wait; but
+you've got a good sick-room manner. Have you ever thought of opening an
+undertaker's shop? If you couldn't cure them you might bury them.”
+
+A certain hot afternoon brought them into the shaded main street of a
+straggling village. Near the door of the principal building, a frame
+tavern, a man was seated, with his feet on the horse-rack. There was no
+other sign of human occupancy.
+
+“How do you do, sir?” said the judge, halting before this solitary
+individual whom he conjectured to be the 'landlord. The man nodded,
+thrusting his thumbs into the armholes of his vest. “What's the name of
+this bustling metropolis?” continued the judge, cocking his head on one
+side.
+
+As he spoke, Bruce Carrington appeared in the tavern door; pausing
+there, he glanced curiously at the shabby wayfarers.
+
+“This is Raleigh, in Shelby County, Tennessee, one of the states of the
+Union of which, no doubt, you've heard rumor in your wanderings,” said
+the landlord.
+
+“Are you the voice from the tomb?” inquired the judge, in a tone of
+playful sarcasm.
+
+Carrington, amused, sauntered toward him.
+
+“That's one for you, Mr. Pegloe!” he said.
+
+“I am charmed to meet a gentleman whose spirit of appreciation shows his
+familiarity with a literary allusion,” said the judge, bowing.
+
+“We ain't so dead as we look,” said Pegloe. “Just you keep on to
+Boggs' race-track, straight down the road, and you'll find that
+out--everybody's there to the hoss-racing and shooting-match. I reckon
+you've missed the hoss-racing, but you'll be in time for the shooting.
+Why ain't you there, Mr. Carrington?”
+
+“I'm going now, Mr. Pegloe,” answered Carrington, as he followed the
+judge, who, with Mahaffy and the boy, had moved off.
+
+“Better stop at Boggs'!” Pegloe called after them.
+
+But the judge had already formed his decision.
+
+Horse-racing and shooting-matches were suggestive of that progressive
+spirit, the absence of which he had so much lamented at the jail raising
+at Pleasantville--Memphis was their objective point, but Boggs' became
+a side issue of importance. They had gained the edge of the village when
+Carrington overtook them. He stepped to Hannibal's side.
+
+“Here, let me carry that long rifle, son!” he said. Hannibal looked up
+into his face, and yielded the piece without a word. Carrington balanced
+it on his big, muscular palm. “I reckon it can shoot--these old guns are
+hard to beat!” he observed.
+
+“She's the clostest shooting rifle I ever sighted,” said Hannibal
+promptly. “You had ought to see the judge shoot her--my! he never
+misses!”
+
+Carrington laughed.
+
+“The clostest shooting rifle you ever sighted--eh?” he repeated. “Why,
+aren't you afraid of it?”
+
+“No,” said Hannibal scornfully. “But she kicks you some if you don't
+hold her right.”
+
+There was a rusty name-plate on the stock of the old sporting rifle;
+this had caught Carrington's eye.
+
+“What's the name here? Oh, Turberville.”
+
+The judge, a step or two in advance, wheeled in his tracks with a
+startling suddenness.
+
+“What?” he faltered, and his face was ashen.
+
+“Nothing, I was reading the name here; it is yours; sir, I suppose?”
+ said Carrington.
+
+The color crept slowly back into the judge's cheeks, but a tremulous
+hand stole up to his throat.
+
+“No, sir--no; my name is Price--Slocum Price!
+Turberville--Turberville--” he muttered thickly, staring stupidly at
+Carrington.
+
+“It's not a common name; you seem to have heard it before?” said the
+latter.
+
+A spasm of pain passed over the judge's face.
+
+“I--I've heard it. The name is on the rifle, you say?”
+
+“Here on the stock, yes.”
+
+The judge took the gun and examined it in silence.
+
+“Where did you get this rifle, Hannibal?” he at length asked brokenly.
+
+“I fetched it away from the Barony, sir; Mr. Crenshaw said I might have
+it.”
+
+The judge gave a great start, and a hoarse inarticulate murmur stole
+from between his twitching lips.
+
+“The Barony--the Barony--what Barony? The Quintard seat in North
+Carolina, is that what you mean?”
+
+“Yes,” said the boy.
+
+The judge, as though stunned, stared at Hannibal and stared at the
+rifle, where the rusted name-plate danced before his eyes.
+
+“What do you know of the Barony, Hannibal?” the words came slowly from
+the judge's lips, and his face had gone gray again.
+
+“I lived at the Barony once, until Uncle Bob took me to Scratch Hill to
+be with him. It were Mr. Crenshaw said I was to have the old sp'otin'
+rifle,” said Hannibal.
+
+“You--you lived at the Barony?” repeated the judge, and a dull stupid
+wonder struck through his tone, he passed a shaking hand before his
+eyes. “How long ago--when?” he continued.
+
+“I don't know how long it were, but until Uncle Bob carried me away
+after the old general died.”
+
+The judge slipped a hand under the child's chin and tilted his face
+back so that he might look into it. For a long moment he studied closely
+those small features, then with a shake of the head he handed the rifle
+to Carrington, and without a word strode forward. Carrington had been
+regarding Hannibal with a quickened interest.
+
+“Hello!” he said, as the judge moved off. “You're the boy I saw at
+Scratch Hill!”
+
+Hannibal gave him a frightened glance, and edged to Mr. Mahaffy's side,
+but did not answer him.
+
+“What's become of Bob Yancy?” Carrington went on. He looked from Mahaffy
+to the judge; externally neither of these gentlemen was calculated
+to inspire confidence. Mahaffy, keenly alive to this fact, returned
+Carrington's glance with a fixed and hostile stare. “Come--” said
+Carrington good-naturedly, “you surely remember me?”
+
+“Yes, sir; I reckon I do--”
+
+“Can't you tell me about Mr. Yancy?”
+
+“No, sir; I don't know exactly where he is--”
+
+“But how did you get here?” persisted Carrington.
+
+Suddenly Mahaffy turned on him.
+
+“Don't you see he's with us?” he said truculently.
+
+“Well, my dear sir, I certainly intended no offense!” rejoined
+Carrington rather hotly.
+
+Mahaffy was plainly disturbed, the debased currency of his affection was
+in circulation where Hannibal was concerned, and he eyed the river-man
+askance. He was prepared to give him the lie should he set up any claim
+to the boy.
+
+The judge plodded forward, his shoulders drooped, and his head bowed.
+For once silence had fixed its seal upon his lips, no inspiring speech
+fell from them. He had been suddenly swept back into a past he had
+striven these twenty years and more to forget, and his memories shaped
+themselves fantastically. Surely if ever a man had quitted the world
+that knew him, he was that man! He had died and yet he lived--lived
+horribly, without soul or heart, the empty shell of a man.
+
+A turn in the road brought them within sight of Boggs' racetrack, a wide
+level meadow. The judge paused irresolutely, and turned his bleared face
+on his friend.
+
+“We'll stop here, Solomon,” he said rather wearily, for the spirit of
+boast and jest was quite gone out of him. He glanced toward Carrington.
+“Are you a resident of these parts, sir?” he asked.
+
+“I've been in Raleigh three days altogether,” answered Carrington,
+falling into step at his side, and they continued on across the meadow
+in silence.
+
+“Do you observe the decorations of those refreshment booths?--the
+tasteful disposition of our national colors, sir?” the judge presently
+inquired.
+
+Carrington smiled; he was able to follow his companion's train of
+thought.
+
+They were elbowing the crowd now. Here were men from the small clearings
+in homespun and butternut or fringed hunting-shirts, with their women
+folk trailing after them. Here, too, in lesser numbers, were the lords
+of the soil, the men who counted their acres by the thousand and their
+slaves by the score. There was the flutter of skirts among the moving
+groups, the nodding of gay parasols that shaded fresh young faces, while
+occasionally a comfortable family carriage with some planter's wife
+or daughter rolled silently over the turf; for Boggs' race-track was a
+famous meeting-place where families that saw one another not above once
+or twice a year, friends who lived a day's hard drive apart even when
+summer roads were at their best, came as to a common center.
+
+The judge's dull eye kindled, the haggard lines that had streaked his
+face erased themselves. This was life, opulent and full. These swift
+rolling carriages with their handsome women, these well-dressed men on
+foot, and splendidly mounted, all did their part toward lifting him out
+of his gloom. He settled his hat on his head with a rakish slant and his
+walk became a strut, he courted observation; he would have been grateful
+for a word, even a jest at his expense.
+
+A cry from Hannibal drew his attention. Turning, he was in time to see
+the boy bound away. An instant later, to his astonishment, he saw a
+young girl who was seated with two men in an open carriage, spring to
+the ground, and dropping to her knees put her arms about the tattered
+little figure.
+
+“Why, Hannibal!” cried Betty Malroy.
+
+“Miss Betty! Miss Betty!” and Hannibal buried his head on her shoulder.
+
+“What is it, Hannibal; what is it, dear?”
+
+“Nothing, only I'm so glad to find you!”
+
+“I am glad to see you, too!” said Betty, as she wiped his tears away.
+“When did you get here, dear?”
+
+“We got here just to-day, Miss Betty,” said Hannibal.
+
+Mr. Ware, careless as to dress, with a wiry black beard of a week's
+growth decorating his chin and giving an unkempt appearance which his
+expression did not mitigate, it being of the sour and fretful sort;
+scowled down on the child. He had favored Boggs' with his presence, not
+because he felt the least interest in horse-racing, but because he had
+no faith in girls, and especially had he profound mistrust of Betty. She
+was so much easily portable wealth, a pink-faced chit ready to fall into
+the arms of the first man who proposed to her. But Charley Norton had
+not seemed disturbed by the planter's forbidding air. Between those
+two there existed complete reciprocity of feeling, inasmuch as
+Tom's presence was as distasteful to Norton as his own presence was
+distressing to Ware.
+
+“Where is your Uncle Bob, Hannibal?” Betty asked, glancing about, and
+at her question a shadow crossed the child's face and the tears gathered
+again in his eyes.
+
+“Ain't you seen him, Miss Betty?” he whispered. He had been sustained by
+the belief that when he found her he should find his Uncle Bob, too.
+
+“Why, what do you mean, Hannibal--isn't your Uncle Bob with you?”
+ demanded Betty.
+
+“He got hurt in a fight, and I got separated from him way back yonder
+just after we came out of the mountains.” He looked up piteously into
+Betty's face. “But you think he'll find me, don't you?”
+
+“Why, you poor little thing!” cried Betty compassionately, and again she
+sank on her knees at Hannibal's side, and slipped her arms about him.
+The child began to cry softly.
+
+“What ragamuffin's this, Betty?” growled Ware disgustedly.
+
+But Betty did not seem to hear.
+
+“Did you come alone, Hannibal?” she asked.
+
+“No, ma'am; the judge and Mr. Mahaffy, they fetched me.”
+
+The judge had drawn nearer as Betty and Hannibal spoke together, but
+Mahaffy hung back. There were gulfs not to be crossed by him. It was
+different with the judge; the native magnificence of his mind fitted him
+for any occasion. He pulled up his stock, and coaxed a half-inch of limp
+linen down about his wrists, then very splendidly he lifted his napless
+hat from his shiny bald head and pressing it against his fat chest with
+much fervor, elegantly inclined himself from the hips.
+
+“Allow me the honor to present myself, ma'am--Price is my name--Judge
+Slocum Price. May I be permitted to assume that this is the Miss
+Betty of whom my young protege so often speaks?” The judge beamed
+benevolently, and rested a ponderous hand on the boy's head.
+
+Tom Ware gave him a glance of undisguised astonishment, while Norton
+regarded him with an expression of stunned and resolute gravity. Mahaffy
+seemed to be undergoing a terrible moment of uncertainty. He was divided
+between two purposes: one was to seize Price by the coat tails and drag
+him back into the crowd; the other was to kick him, and himself fly that
+spot. This singular impulse sprang from the fact that he firmly believed
+his friend's appearance was sufficient to blast the boy's chances in
+every quarter; nor did he think any better of himself.
+
+Betty looked at the judge rather inquiringly.
+
+“I am glad he has found friends,” she said slowly. She wanted to believe
+that judge Slocum Price was somehow better than he looked, which should
+have been easy, since it was incredible that he could have been worse.
+
+“He has indeed found friends,” said the judge with mellow unction, and
+swelling visibly. These prosperous appearing people should be of use
+to him, God willing--he made a sweeping gesture. “I have assumed the
+responsibility of his future--he is my care.”
+
+Now Betty caught sight of Carrington and bowed. Occupied with Hannibal
+and the judge, she had been unaware of his presence. Carrington stepped
+forward.
+
+“Have you met Mr. Norton, and my brother, Mr. Carrington?” she asked.
+
+The two young men shook hands, and Ware improved the opportunity to
+inspect the new-comer. But as his glance wandered over him, it took in
+more than Carrington, for it included the fine figure and swarthy face
+of Captain Murrell, who, with his eyes fixed on Betty, was thrusting his
+eager way through the crowd.
+
+Murrell had presented himself at Belle Plain the day before. For upward
+of a year, Ware had enjoyed great peace of mind as a direct result of
+his absence from west Tennessee, and when he thought of him at all he
+had invariably put a period to his meditations with, “I hope to hell he
+catches it wherever he is!” It had really seemed a pernicious thing to
+him that no one had shown sufficient public spirit to knock the captain
+on the head, and that this had not been done, utterly destroyed his
+faith in the good intentions of Providence.
+
+More than this, Betty had spoken of the captain in no uncertain terms.
+He was not to repeat that visit. Tom must make that point clear to him.
+Tom might entertain him if he liked at his office, but the doors of
+Belle Plain were closed against Captain Murrell; he was not to set his
+foot inside of them.
+
+As Murrell approached, the hot color surged into Betty's face. As for
+Hannibal, he had gone white to the lips, and his small hand clutched
+hers desperately; he was remembering all the terror of that hot dawn at
+Slosson's.
+
+Murrell, with all his hardihood, realized that a too great confidence
+had placed him in an awkward position, for Betty turned her back on him
+and began an animated conversation with Carrington and Charley Norton;
+only Hannibal and the judge continued to regard him; the boy with a
+frightened, fascinated stare, the judge with a wide sweet smile.
+
+Hicks, the Belle Plain overseer, pushed his way to Murrell's side.
+
+“Here, John Murrell, ain't you going to show us a trick or two?” he
+inquired.
+
+Murrell turned quickly with a sense of relief.
+
+“If you can spare me your rifle,” he said, but his face wore a
+bleak look. Glancing at Betty, he took up his station with the other
+contestants, whereupon two or three young planters silently withdrew
+from the firing-line.
+
+“Don't you think you've seen about enough, Bet?” demanded Tom. “You
+don't care for the shooting, do you?”
+
+“That's the very thing I do care for; I think I'd rather see that
+than the horse-racing,” said Betty perversely. This had been her first
+appearance in public since her home-coming, and she felt that it had
+been most satisfactory. She had met everybody she had ever known, and
+scores of new people; her progress had been quite triumphal in spite
+of Tom, and in spite of Charley Norton, who was plainly not anxious to
+share her with any one, his devotion being rather of the monopolizing
+sort.
+
+Betty now seated herself in the carriage, with Hannibal beside her,
+quietly determined to miss nothing. The judge, feeling that he had come
+into his own, leaned elegantly against the wheel, and explained the
+merits of each shot as it was made.
+
+“Our intruding friend, the Captain, ma'am, is certainly a master with
+his weapon,” he observed.
+
+Betty was already aware of this. She turned to Norton.
+
+“Charley, I can't bear to have him win!”
+
+“I am afraid he will, for anything I can do, Betty,” said Norton.
+
+“Mr. Carrington, can't you shoot?--do take Hannibal's rifle and beat
+him,” she coaxed.
+
+“Don't be too sure that I can!” said Carrington, laughing.
+
+“But I know you can!” urged Betty.
+
+“I hope you gentlemen are not going to let me walk off with the prize?”
+ said Murrell, approaching the group about the carriage.
+
+“Mr. Norton, I am told you are clever with the rifle.”
+
+“I am not shooting to-day,” responded Norton haughtily.
+
+Murrell stalked back to the line.
+
+“At forty paces I'd risk it myself, ma'am,” said the judge. “But at a
+hundred, offhand like this, I should most certainly fail--I've burnt too
+much midnight oil. Eh--what--damn the dog, he's scored another center
+shot!”
+
+“It would be hard to beat that--” they heard Murrell say.
+
+“At least it would be quite possible to equal it,” said Carrington,
+advancing with Hannibal's rifle in his hands. It was tossed to his
+shoulder, and poured out its contents in a bright stream of flame. There
+was a moment of silence.
+
+“Center shot, ma'am!” cried the judge.
+
+“I'll add twenty dollars to the purse!” Norton addressed himself to
+Carrington. “And I shall hope, sir, to see it go in to your pocket.”
+
+“Our sentiments exactly, ma'am, are they not?” said the judge.
+
+“Perhaps you'd like to bet a little of your money?” remarked Murrell.
+
+“I'm ready to do that too, sir,” responded Norton quietly.
+
+“Five hundred dollars, then, that this gentleman in whose success you
+take so great an interest, can neither equal nor better my next shot!”
+ Murrell had produced a roll of bills as he spoke. Norton colored with
+embarrassment. Carrington took in the situation.
+
+“Wait a minute--” he said, and passed his purse to Norton.
+
+“Cover his money, sir,” he added briefly.
+
+“Thank you, my horses have run away with most of my cash,” explained
+Norton.
+
+“Your shot!” said Carrington shortly, to the outlaw.
+
+Murrell taking careful aim, fired, clipping the center.
+
+As soon as the result was known, Carrington raised his rifle; his
+bullet, truer than his opponent's, drove out the center. Murrell turned
+on him with an oath.
+
+“You shoot well, but a board stuck against a tree is no test for a man's
+nerve,” he said insolently.
+
+Carrington was charging his piece.
+
+“I only know of one other kind of target,” he observed coolly.
+
+“Yes--a living target!” cried Murrell.
+
+The crowd opened from right to left. Betty's face grew white, and
+uttering a smothered cry she started to descend from the carriage, but
+the judge rested his hand on her arm.
+
+“No, my dear young, lady, our friend is quite able to care for himself.”
+
+Carrington shook the priming into the pan of Hannibal's ancient weapon.
+
+“I am ready for that, too,” he said. There was a slow smile on his lips,
+but his eyes, black and burning, looked the captain through and through.
+
+“Another time--” said Murrell, scowling.
+
+“Any time,” answered Carrington indifferently.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. THE PORTAL OF HOPE
+
+
+“This--” the speaker was judge Price; “this is the place for me: They
+are a warm-hearted people, sir; a prosperous people, and a patriotic
+people with an unstinted love of country. A people full of rugged
+virtues engaged in carving a great state out of the indulgent bosom of
+Nature. I like the size of their whisky glasses; I like the stuff that
+goes into them; I despise a section that separates its gallons into too
+many glasses. Show me a community that does that, and I'll show you a
+community rapidly tending toward a low scale of living. I'd like to hang
+out my shingle here and practise law.”
+
+The judge and Mr. Mahaffy were camped in the woods between Boggs' and
+Raleigh. Betty had carried Hannibal off to spend the night at Belle
+Plain, Carrington had disappeared with Charley Norton; but the judge
+and Mahaffy had lingered in the meadow until the last refreshment booth
+struck its colors to the twilight, and they had not lingered in vain.
+The judge threw himself at full length on the ground, and Mahaffy
+dropped at his side. About them, in the ruddy glow of their camp-fire,
+rose the dark wall of the forest.
+
+“I crave opportunity, Solomon--the indorsement of my own class. I feel
+that I shall have it here,” resumed the judge pensively.
+
+But Mahaffy was sad in his joy, sober in his incipientent drunkenness.
+The same handsome treatment which the judge commended, had been as
+freely tendered him, yet he saw the end of all such hospitality. This
+was the worm in the bud. The judge, however, was an eager idealist;
+he still dreamed of Utopia, he still believed in millenniums. Mahaffy
+didn't and couldn't. Memory was the scarecrow in the garden of his
+hopes--you could wear out your welcome anywhere. In the end the world
+reckoned your cost, and unless you were prepared to make some sort of
+return for its bounty, the cold shoulder came to be your portion instead
+of the warm handclasp.
+
+“Hannibal has found friends among people of the first importance. I
+have made it my business to inquire into their standing, and I find
+that young lady is heiress to a cool half million. Think of that,
+Solomon--think of that! I never saw anything more beautiful than her
+manifestation of regard for my protege--”
+
+“And you made it your business, Mr. Price, to do your very damnedest to
+ruin his chances,” said Mahaffy, with sudden heat.
+
+“I ruin his chances?--I, sir? I consider that I helped his chances
+immeasurably.”
+
+“All right, then, you helped his chances--only you didn't, Price!”
+
+“Am I to understand, Solomon, that you regard my interest in the boy as
+harmful?” inquired the judge, in a tone of shocked surprise.
+
+“I regard it as a calamity,” said Mahaffy, with cruel candor.
+
+“And how about you, Solomon?”
+
+“Equally a calamity. Mr. Price, you don't seem able to grasp just what
+we look like!”
+
+“The mind's the only measure of the man, Solomon. If anybody can talk to
+me and be unaware that they are conversing with a gentleman, all I can
+say is their experience has been as pitiable as their intelligence is
+meager. But it hurts me when you intimate that I stand in the way of the
+boy's opportunity.”
+
+“Price, what do you; suppose we look like--you and I?”
+
+“In a general way, Solomon, I am conscious that our appeal is to the
+brain rather than the eye,” answered the judge, with dignity.
+
+“I reckon even you couldn't do a much lower trick than use the boy as a
+stepping-stone,” pursued Mahaffy.
+
+“I don't see how you have the heart to charge me with such a purpose--I
+don't indeed, Solomon.” The judge spoke with deep feeling; he was really
+hurt.
+
+“Well, you let the boy have his chance, and don't you stick in your
+broken oar,” cried Mahaffy fiercely.
+
+The judge rolled over on his back, and stared up at the heavens.
+
+“This is a new aspect of your versatile nature, Solomon. Must I regard
+you as a personally emancipated moral influence, not committed to the
+straight and narrow path yourself, but still close enough to it to keep
+my feet from straying?” he at length demanded.
+
+Mahaffy having spoken his mind, preserved a stony silence.
+
+The judge got up and replenished the camp-fire, which had burnt low,
+then squatting before it, he peered into the flames.
+
+“You'll not deny, Solomon, that Miss Malroy exhibited a real affection
+for Hannibal?” he began.
+
+“Now don't you try to borrow money of her, Price,” said Mahaffy,
+returning to the attack.
+
+“Solomon--Solomon--how can you?”
+
+“That'll be your next move. Now let her alone; let Hannibal have his
+luck as it comes to him.”
+
+“You seem to forget, sir, that I still bear the name of gentleman!” said
+the judge.
+
+Mahaffy gave way to acid merriment.
+
+“Well, see that you are not tempted to forget that,” he observed.
+
+“If I didn't know your sterling qualities, Solomon, and pay homage to
+'em, I might be tempted to take offense,” said the judge.
+
+“It's like pouring water on a duck's back to talk to you, Price; nothing
+strikes in.”
+
+“On the contrary, I am at all times ready to listen to reason from any
+quarter, but I've studied this matter in its many-sided aspect. I won't
+say we might not do better in Memphis, but we must consider the boy. No;
+if I can find a vacant house in Raleigh, I wouldn't ask a finer spot in
+which to spend the afternoon of my life.”
+
+“Afternoon?” snapped Mahaffy irritably.
+
+“That's right--carp--! But you can't relegate me! You can't shove me
+away from the portal of hope--metaphorically speaking, I'm on the
+stoop; it may be God's pleasure that I enter; there's a place for gray
+heads--and there's a respectable slice of life after the meridian is
+passed.”
+
+“Humph!” said Mahaffy.
+
+“I've made my impression; I've been thrown with cultivated minds quick
+to recognize superiority; I've met with deference and consideration.”
+
+“Aren't you forgetting the boy?” inquired Mahaffy. “No, sir! I regard my
+obligations where he is concerned as a sacred trust to be administered
+in a lofty and impersonal manner. If his friends--if Miss Malroy, for
+instance--cares to make me the instrument of her benefactions, I'll not
+be disposed to stand on my dignity; but his education shall be my care.
+I'll make such a lawyer of him as America has not seen before! I don't
+ask you to accept my own opinion of my fitness to do this, but two
+gentlemen with whom I talked this evening--one of them was the justice
+of the peace--were pleased to say that they had never heard such
+illuminating comments on the criminal law. I quoted the Greeks and
+Romans to 'em, sir; I gave 'em the salient points on mediaeval law; and
+they were dumfounded and speechless. I reckon they'd never heard such an
+exposition of fundamental principles; I showed 'em the germ and I showed
+'em fruition. Damn it, sir, they were overwhelmed by the array of facts
+I marshaled for 'em. They said they'd never met with such erudition--no
+more they had, for I boiled down thirty years of study into ten minutes
+of talk! I flogged 'em with facts, and then we drank--” The judge
+smacked his lips. “It is this free-handed hospitality I like; it's this
+that gives life its gala aspect.”
+
+He forgot former experiences; but without this kindly refusal of memory
+to perform its wonted functions, the world would have been a chill place
+indeed for Slocum Price. But Mahaffy, keen and anxious, with doubt in
+every glass he drained, a lurking devil to grin at him above the rim,
+could see only the end of their brief hour of welcome. This made the
+present moment as bitter as the last.
+
+“I have a theory, Solomon, that I shall be handsomely supported by my
+new friends. They'll snatch at the opportunity.”
+
+“I see 'em snatching, Mr. Price,” said Mahaffy grimly.
+
+“That's right--go on and plant doubt in my heart if you can! You're as
+hopeless as the grave side!” cried the judge, a spasm of rage shaking
+him.
+
+“The thing for us to do--you and I, Price--is to clear out of here,”
+ said Mahaffy.
+
+“But what of the boy?”
+
+“Leave him with his friends.”
+
+“How do you know Miss Malroy would be willing to assume his care? It's
+scandalous the way you leap at conclusions. No, Solomon, no--I won't
+shirk a single irksome responsibility,” and the judge's voice shook with
+suppressed emotion. Mahaffy laughed. “There you go again, Solomon, with
+that indecent mirth of yours! Friendship aside, you grow more offensive
+every day.” The judge paused and then resumed. “I understand there's a
+federal judgeship vacant here. The president--” Mr. Mahaffy gave him
+a furtive leer. “I tell you General Jackson was my friend--we were
+brothers, sir--I stood at his side on the glorious blood-wet field of
+New Orleans! You don't believe me--”
+
+“Price, you've made more demands on my stock of credulity than any man
+I've ever known!”
+
+The judge became somber-faced.
+
+“Unparalleled misfortune overtook me--I stepped aside, but the world
+never waits; I was a cog discarded from the mechanism of society--” He
+was so pleased with the metaphor that he repeated it.
+
+“Look here, Price, you talk as though you were a modern job; what's the
+matter anyhow?--have you got boils?”
+
+The judge froze into stony silence. Well, Mahaffy could sneer--he would
+show him! This was the last ditch and he proposed to descend into it,
+it was something to be able to demand the final word of fate--but
+he instantly recalled that he had been playing at hide-and-seek with
+inevitable consequences for something like a quarter of a century; it
+had been a triumph merely to exist. Mahaffy having eased his conscience,
+rolled over and promptly went to sleep. Flat on his back, the judge
+stared up at the wide blue arch of the heavens and rehearsed those
+promises which in the last twenty years he had made and broken times
+without number. He planned no sweeping reforms, his system of morality
+being little more than a series of graceful compromises with himself.
+He must not get hopelessly in debt; he must not get helplessly drunk.
+Dealing candidly with his own soul in the silence, he presently came
+to the belief that this might be done without special hardship. Then
+suddenly the rusted name-plate on Hannibal's old rifle danced again
+before his burning eyes, and a bitter sense of hurt and loss struck
+through him. He saw himself as he was, a shabby outcast, a tavern
+hanger-on, the utter travesty of all he should have been; he dropped his
+arm across his face.
+
+
+The first rift of light in the sky found the judge stirring; it found
+him in his usual cheerful frame of mind. He disposed of his toilet and
+breakfast with the greatest expedition.
+
+“Will you stroll into town with me, Solomon?” he asked, when they had
+eaten. Mahaffy shook his head, his air was still plainly hostile. “Then
+let your prayers follow me, for I'm off!” said the judge.
+
+Ten minutes' walk brought him to the door of the city tavern, where he
+found Mr. Pegloe directing the activities of a small colored boy who was
+mopping out his bar. To him the judge made known his needs.
+
+“Goin' to locate, are you?” said Mr. Pegloe.
+
+“My friends urge it, sir, and I have taken the matter under
+consideration,” answered the judge.
+
+“Sho, do you know any folks hereabouts?” asked Mr. Pegloe.
+
+“Not many,” said the judge, with reserve.
+
+“Well, the only empty house in town is right over yonder; it belongs to
+young Charley Norton out at Thicket Point Plantation.”
+
+“Ah-h!” said the judge.
+
+The house Mr. Pegloe had pointed out was a small frame building; it
+stood directly on the street, with a narrow porch across the front, and
+a shed addition at the back. The judge scuttled over to it. With his
+hands clasped under the tails of his coat he walked twice about the
+building, stopping to peer in at all the windows, then he paused and
+took stock of his surroundings. Over the way was Pegloe's City Tavern;
+farther up the street was the court-house, a square wooden box with a
+crib that housed a cracked bell, rising from a gable end. The judge's
+pulse quickened. What a location, and what a fortunate chance that Mr.
+Norton was the owner of this most desirable tenement.
+
+He must see him at once. As he turned away to recross the street and
+learn from Mr. Pegloe by what road Thicket Point might be reached,
+Norton himself galloped into the village. Catching sight of the judge,
+he reined in his horse and swung himself from the saddle.
+
+“I was hoping, sir, I might find you,” he said, as they met before the
+tavern.
+
+“A wish I should have echoed had I been aware of it!” responded the
+judge. “I was about to do myself the honor to wait upon you at your
+plantation.”
+
+“Then I have saved you a long walk,” said Norton. He surveyed the judge
+rather dubiously, but listened with great civility and kindness as he
+explained the business that would have taken him to Thicket Point.
+
+“The house is quite at your service, sir,” he said, at length.
+
+“The rent--” began the judge. He had great natural delicacy always in
+mentioning matters of a financial nature.
+
+But Mr. Norton, with a delicacy equal to his own, entreated him not to
+mention the rent. The house had come to him as boot in a trade. It
+had been occupied by a doctor and a lawyer; these gentlemen had each
+decamped between two days, heavily in debt at the stores and taverns,
+especially the taverns.
+
+“I can't honestly say they owed me, since I never expected to get
+anything out of them; however, they both left some furniture, all that
+was necessary for the kind of housekeeping they did, for they were
+single gentlemen and drew the bulk of their nourishment from Pegloe's
+bar. I'll turn the establishment over to you with the greatest
+pleasure in the world, and wish you better luck than your predecessors
+had--you'll offend me if you refer to the rent again!”
+
+And thus handsomely did Charley Norton acquit himself of the mission he
+had undertaken at Betty Malroy's request.
+
+That same morning Tom Ware and Captain Murrell were seated in the small
+detached building at Belle Plain, known as the office, where the former
+spent most of his time when not in the saddle. Whatever the planter's
+vices, and he was reputed to possess a fair working knowledge of good
+and evil, no one had ever charged him with hypocrisy. His emotions
+lay close to the surface and wrote themselves on his unprepossessing
+exterior with an impartial touch. He had felt no pleasure when Murrell
+rode into the yard, and he had welcomed him according to the dictates of
+his mood, which was one of surly reticence.
+
+“So your sister doesn't like me, Tom--that's on your mind this morning,
+is it?” Murrell was saying, as he watched his friend out of the corner
+of his eyes.
+
+“She was mad enough, the way you pushed in on us at Boggs' yesterday.
+What happened back in North Carolina, Murrell, anyhow?”
+
+“Never you mind what happened.”
+
+“Well, it's none of my business, I reckon; she'll have to look out for
+herself, she's nothing to me but a pest sand a nuisance--I've been more
+bothered since she came back than I've been in years! I'd give a good
+deal to be rid of her,” said Ware, greatly depressed as he recalled the
+extraordinary demands Betty had made.
+
+“Make it worth my while and I'll take her off your hands,” and Murrell
+laughed.
+
+Tom favored him with a sullen stare.
+
+“You'd better get rid of that notion--of all fool nonsense, this love
+business is the worst! I can't see the slightest damn difference between
+one good looking girl and another. I wish every one was as sensible as
+I am,” he lamented. “I wouldn't miss a meal, or ten minutes' sleep, on
+account of any woman in creation,” and Ware shook his head.
+
+“So your sister doesn't like me?”
+
+“No, she doesn't,” said Ware, with simple candor.
+
+“Told you to put a stop to my coming here?”
+
+“Not here--to the house, yes. She doesn't give a damn, so long as she
+doesn't have to see you.”
+
+Murrell, somber-faced and thoughtful, examined a crack in the flooring.
+
+“I'd like to know what happened back yonder in North Carolina to make
+her so blazing mad?” continued Ware.
+
+“Well, if you want to know, I told her I loved her.”
+
+“That's all right, that's the fool talk girls like to hear,” said Ware.
+He lighted a cigar with an air of wearied patience.
+
+“Open the door, Tom,” commanded Murrell.
+
+“It is close in here,” agreed the planter.
+
+“It isn't that, but you smoke the meanest cigars I ever smelt, I always
+think your shoes are on fire. Tom, do you want to get rid of her? Did
+you mean that?”
+
+“Oh, shut up,” said Tom, dropping his voice to a surly whisper.
+
+There was a brief silence, during which Murrell studied his friend's
+face. When he spoke, it was to give the conversation a new direction.
+
+“Did she bring the boy here last night? I saw you drive off with him in
+the carriage.”
+
+“Yes, she makes a regular pet of the little ragamuffin--it's perfectly
+sickening!”
+
+“Who were the two men with him?”
+
+“One of 'em calls himself judge Price; the other kept out of the way, I
+didn't hear his name.”
+
+“Is the boy going to stay at Belle Plain?” inquired Murrell.
+
+“That notion hasn't struck her yet, for I heard her say at breakfast
+that she'd take him to Raleigh this afternoon.”
+
+“That's the boy I traveled all the way to North Carolina to get for
+Fentress. I thought I had him once, but the little cuss gave me the
+slip.”
+
+“Eh--you don't say?” cried Ware.
+
+“Tom, what do you know about the Quintard lands; what do you know about
+Quintard himself?” continued Murrell.
+
+“He was a rich planter, lived in North Carolina. My father met him when
+he was in congress and got him to invest in land here. They had some
+colonization scheme on foot this was upward of twenty years ago--but
+nothing came of it. Quintard lost interest.”
+
+“And the land?”
+
+“Oh, he held on to that.”
+
+“Is there much of it?”
+
+“A hundred thousand acres,” said Ware.
+
+Murrell whistled softly under his breath.
+
+“What's it worth?”
+
+“A pot of money, two or three dollars an acre anyhow,” answered Ware.
+
+“Quintard has been dead two years, Tom, and back yonder in North
+Carolina they told me he left nothing but the home plantation. The boy
+lived there up to the time of Quintard's death, but what relation he was
+to the old man no one knew. What do you suppose Fentress wants with him?
+He offered me five thousand dollars if I'd bring him West; and he still
+wants him, only he's lying low now to see what comes of the two old
+sots--he don't want to move in the dark. Offhand, Tom, I'd say that by
+getting hold of the boy Fentress expects to get hold of the Quintard
+land.”
+
+“That's likely,” said Ware, then struck by a sudden idea, he added, “Are
+you going to take all the risks and let him pocket the cash? If it's the
+land he's after, the stake's big enough to divide.”
+
+“He can have the whole thing and welcome, I'm playing for a bigger
+stake.” His friend stared at him in astonishment. “I tell you, Tom, I'm
+bent on getting even with the world! No silver spoon came in the way of
+my mouth when I was a youngster; my father was too honest--and I think
+the less of him for it!”
+
+Mr. Ware seemed on the whole edified by the captain's unorthodox point
+of view.
+
+“My mother was the true grit though; she came of mountain stock, and
+taught us children to steal by the time we could think! Whatever we
+stole, she hid, and dared my father to touch us. I remember the first
+thing of account was when I was ten years old. A Dutch peddler came to
+our cabin one winter night and begged us to take him in. Of course, he
+opened his pack before he left, and almost under his nose I got away
+with a bolt of linen. The old man and woman fought about it, but if the
+peddler discovered his loss he had the sense not to come back and tell
+of it! When I was seventeen I left home with three good horses I'd
+picked up; they brought me more money than I'd ever seen before and I
+got my first taste of life--that was in Nashville where I made some
+good friends with whose help I soon had as pretty a trade organized
+in horseflesh as any one could wish.” A somber tone had crept into
+Murrell's voice, while his glance had become restless and uneasy. He
+went on: “I'm licking a speculation into shape that will cause me to be
+remembered while there's a white man alive in the Mississippi Valley!”
+ His wicked black eyes were blazing coals of fire in their deep sockets.
+“Have you heard what the niggers did at Hayti?”
+
+“My God, John--no, I won't talk to you--and don't you think about it!
+That's wrong--wrong as hell itself!” cried Ware.
+
+“There's no such thing as right and wrong for me. That'll do for those
+who have something to lose. I was born with empty hands and I am going
+to fill them where and how I can. I believe the time has come when the
+niggers can be of use to me--look what Turner did back in Virginia three
+years ago! If he'd had any real purpose he could have laid the country
+waste, but he hadn't brains enough to engineer a general uprising.”
+
+Ware was probably as remote from any emotion that even vaguely
+approximated right feeling as any man could well be, but Murrell's words
+jarred his dull conscience, or his fear, into giving signs of life.
+
+“Don't you talk of that business, we want nothing of that sort out here.
+You let the niggers alone!” he said, but he could scarcely bring himself
+to believe that Murrell had spoken in earnest. Yet even if he jested,
+this was a forbidden subject.
+
+“White brains will have to think for them, if it's to be more than a
+flash in the pan,” said Murrell unheeding him.
+
+“You let the niggers alone, don't you tamper with them,” said Ware.
+He possessed a profound belief in Murrell's capacity. He knew how the
+latter had shaped the uneasy population that foregathered on the edge of
+civilization to his own ends, and that what he had christened the Clan
+had become an elaborate organization, disciplined and flexible to his
+ruthless will.
+
+“Look here, what do you think I have been working for--to steal a few
+niggers?”
+
+“A few--you've been sending 'em south by the boatload! You ought to be a
+rich man, Murrell. If you're not it's your own fault.”
+
+“That furnishes us with money, but you can push the trade too hard
+and too far, and we've about done that. The planters are uneasy in the
+sections we've worked over, there's talk of getting together to clean
+out everybody who can't give a good account of himself. The Clan's got
+to deal a counter blow or go out of business. It was so with the horse
+trade; in the end it became mighty unhandy to move the stock we'd
+collected. We've reached the same point now with the trade in niggers.
+Between here and the gulf--” he made a wide sweeping gesture with his
+arm. “I am spotting the country with my men; there are two thousand
+active workers on the rolls of the Clan, and as many more like you,
+Tom--and Fentress--on whose friendship I can rely.” He leaned toward
+Ware. “You'd be slow to tell me I couldn't count on you, Tom, and you'd
+be slow to think I couldn't manage this thing when the time's ripe for
+it!”
+
+But no trace of this all-sufficient sense of confidence, of which he
+seemed so certain, showed on Ware's hardened visage. He spat away the
+stump of his cigar.
+
+“Sure as God, John Murrell, you are overreaching yourself! Your white
+men are all right, they've got to stick by you; if they don't they know
+it's only a question of time until they get a knife driven into their
+ribs--but niggers--there isn't any real fight in a nigger, if there was
+they wouldn't be here.”
+
+“Yet you couldn't have made the whites in Hayti believe that,” said
+Murrell, with a sinister smile.
+
+“Because they were no-account trash themselves!” returned Ware, shaking
+his head. “We'll all go down in this muss you're fixing for!” he added.
+
+“No, you won't, Tom. I'll look out for my friends. You'll be warned in
+time.”
+
+“A hell of a lot of good a warning will do!” growled Ware.
+
+“The business will be engineered so that you, and those like you, will
+not be disturbed. Maybe the niggers will have control of the country
+for a day or two in the thickly settled parts near the towns; longer,
+of course, where the towns and plantations are scattering. The end will
+come in the swamps and cane-brakes, and the members of the Clan who
+don't get rich while the trouble is at its worst, will have to stay
+poor. As for the niggers, I expect nothing else than that they will
+be pretty well exterminated. But look what that will do for men like
+yourself, Tom, who will have been able to hold on to their slaves!”
+
+“I'd like to have some guarantee that I'd be able to; do that! No, sir,
+the devils will all go whooping off to raise hell.” Ware shivered at
+the picture his mind had conjured up. “Well, thank God, they're not my
+niggers!” he added.
+
+“You'd better come with me, Tom,” said Murrell.
+
+“With you?”
+
+“Yes, I'm going to keep New Orleans for myself; that's a plum I'm going
+to pick with the help of a few friends, and I'd cheerfully hang for it
+afterward if I could destroy the city Old Hickory saved--but I expect to
+quit the country in good time; with a river full of ships I shan't lack
+for means of escape.” His manner was cool and decided. He possessed in
+an eminent degree the egotism that makes possible great crimes and great
+criminals, and his degenerate brain dealt with this colossal horror as
+simply as if it had been a petty theft.
+
+“There's no use in trying to talk you out of this, John, but I just want
+to ask you one thing: you do all you say you are going to do, and then
+where in hell's name will you be safe?”
+
+“I'll take my chances. What have I been taking all my life but the
+biggest sort of chances?--and for little enough!”
+
+Ware, feeling the entire uselessness of argument, uttered a string of
+imprecations, and then fell silent. His acquaintance with Murrell was
+of long standing. It dated back to the time when he was growing into the
+management of Belle Plain. A chance meeting with the outlaw in Memphis
+had developed into the closest intimacy, and the plantation had become
+one of the regular stations for the band of horse-thieves of which
+Murrell had spoken. But time had wrought its changes. Tom was now in
+full control of Belle Plain and its resources, and he had little heart
+for such risks as he had once taken.
+
+“Well, how about the girl, Tom?” asked Murrell at length, in a low even
+tone.
+
+“The girl? Oh, Betty, you mean?” said Ware, and shifted uneasily in his
+seat. “Haven't you got enough on your hands without worrying about her?
+She don't like you, haven't I told you that? Think of some one else for
+a spell, and you'll find it answers,” he urged.
+
+“What do you think is going to happen here if I take your advice? She'll
+marry one of these young bloods!” Ware's lips twitched. “And then, Tom,
+you'll get your orders to move out, while her husband takes over the
+management of her affairs. What have you put by anyhow?--enough to stock
+another place?”
+
+“Nothing, not a damn cent!” said Ware. Murrell laughed incredulously.
+“It's so! I've turned it all over--more lands, more niggers, bigger
+crops each year. Another man might have saved his little spec, but I
+couldn't; I reckon I never believed it would go to her, and I've managed
+Belle Plain as if I were running it for myself.” He seemed to writhe as
+if undergoing some acute bodily pain.
+
+“And you are in a fair way to turn it all over to her husband when she
+marries, and step out of here a beggar, unless--”
+
+“It isn't right, John! I haven't had pay for my ability! Why, the place
+would have gone down to nothing with any management but mine!”
+
+“If she were to die, you'd inherit?”
+
+Ware laughed harshly.
+
+“She looks like dying, doesn't she?”
+
+“Listen to me, Tom. I'll take her away, and Belle Plain is yours--land,
+stock and niggers!” said Murrell quietly.
+
+Ware shifted and twisted in his seat.
+
+“It can't be done. I can advise and urge: but I can't command. She's got
+her friends, those people back yonder in North Carolina, and if I made
+things uncomfortable for her here she'd go to them and I couldn't
+stop her. You don't seem to get it through your head that she's got no
+earthly use for you!”
+
+Murrell favored him with a contemptuous glance.
+
+“You're like every one else! Certain things you'll do, and certain other
+things you won't even try to do--your conscience or your fear gets in
+your way.”
+
+“Call it what you like.”
+
+“I offer to take the girl off your hands; when I quit the country she
+shall go with me--”
+
+“And I'd be left here to explain what had become of her!” cried Ware, in
+a panic.
+
+“You won't have anything to explain. She'll have disappeared, that will
+be all you'll know,” said Murrell quietly.
+
+“She'll never marry you.”
+
+“Don't you be too sure of that. She may be glad enough to in the end.”
+
+“Oh, you think you are a hell of a fellow with women! Well, maybe you
+are with one sort--but what do you know about her kind?” jeered the
+planter.
+
+Murrell's brow darkened.
+
+“I'll manage her,” he said briefly.
+
+“You were of some account until this took hold of you,” complained Ware.
+
+“What do you say? One would hardly think I was offering to make you a
+present of the best plantation in west Tennessee!” said Murrell.
+
+Ware seemed to suck in hope through his shut teeth.
+
+“I don't want to know anything about this, you are going to swamp
+yourself yet--you're fixing to get yourself strung up--yes, by thunder,
+that'll be your finish!”
+
+“Do you want the land and the niggers? I reckon you'll have to take them
+whether you want them or not, for I'm going to have the girl.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. BOB YANCY FINDS HIMSELF
+
+
+Mr. Yancy awoke from a long dreamless sleep; heavy-lidded, his eyes slid
+open. For a moment he struggled with the odds and ends of memory, then
+he recalled the fight at the tavern, the sudden murderous attack, the
+fierce blows Slosson had dealt him, the knife thrust which had ended
+the struggle. Therefore, the bandages that now swathed his head and
+shoulders; therefore, the need that he should be up and doing--for where
+was Hannibal?
+
+He sought to lift himself on his elbow, but the effort sent shafts of
+pain through him; his head seemed of vast size and endowed with a weight
+he could not support. He sank back groaning, and closed his eyes. After
+a little interval he opened them again and stared about him. There
+was the breath of dawn in the air; he heard a rooster crow, and the
+contented grunting of a pig close at hand. He was resting under a rude
+shelter of poles and bark. Presently he became aware of a slow gliding
+movement, and the silvery ripple of water. Clearly he was no longer at
+the tavern, and clearly some one had taken the trouble to bandage his
+hurts.
+
+At length his eyes rolling from side to side focused themselves on a low
+opening near the foot of his shakedown bed. Beyond this opening, and
+at some little distance, he saw a sunbonneted woman of a plump and
+comfortable presence. She was leaning against a tub which rested on a
+rude bench. At her back was another bark shanty similar to the one that
+sheltered himself, while on either hand a shoreless expanse of water
+danced and sparkled under the rays of the newly risen sun. As his
+eyes slowly took in the scene, Yancy's astonishment mounted higher and
+higher. The lady's sunbonnet quite hid her face, but he saw that she was
+smoking a cob-pipe.
+
+He was still staring at her, when the lank figure of a man emerged from
+the other shanty. This man wore a cotton shirt and patched butternut
+trousers; he way hatless and shoeless, and his hair stood out from his
+head in a great flaming shock. He, too, was smoking a cob-pipe. Suddenly
+the man put out a long arm which found its way about the lady's waist,
+an attention that culminated in a vigorous embrace. Then releasing her,
+he squared his shoulders, took a long breath, beat his chest with the
+flat of his hands and uttered a cheerful whoop. The embrace, the deep
+breath, and the whoop constituted Mr. Cavendish's morning devotions,
+and were expressive of a spirit of thankfulness to the risen sun, his
+general satisfaction with the course of Providence, and his homage to
+the lady of his choice.
+
+Swinging about on his heel, Cavendish passed beyond Yancy's range of
+vision. Again the latter attempted to lift himself on his elbow, but
+sky and water changed places before his eyes and he dropped down on his
+pillow with a stifled sigh. He seemed to be slipping back into the black
+night from which he had just emerged. Again he was at Scratch Hill,
+again Dave Blount was seeking to steal his nevvy--incidents of the
+trial and flight recurred to him--all was confused, feverish, without
+sequence.
+
+Suddenly a shadow fell obliquely across the foot of his narrow bed, and
+Cavendish, bending his long body somewhat, thrust his head in at the
+opening. He found himself looking into a pair of eyes that for the first
+time in many a long day held the light of consciousness.
+
+“How are you, stranger?” he demanded, in a soft drawl.
+
+“Where am I?” the words were a whisper on Yancy's bearded lips.
+
+“Well, sir, you are in the Tennessee River fo' certain; my wife will
+make admiration when she hears you speak. Polly! you jest step here.”
+
+But Polly had heard Cavendish speak, and the murmur of Yancy's voice in
+reply. Now her head appeared beside her husband's, and Yancy saw that
+she was rosy and smiling, and that her claim to good looks was something
+that could not well be denied.
+
+“La, you are some better, ain't you, sir?” she cried, smiling down on
+him.
+
+“How did I get here, and where's my nevvy?” questioned Yancy anxiously.
+
+“There now, you ain't in no condition fo' to pester yo'self with
+worry. You was fished up out of the Elk River by Mr. Cavendish,” Polly
+explained, still smiling and dimpling at him.
+
+“When, ma'am--last night?”
+
+“You got another guess coming to you, stranger!” It was Cavendish who
+spoke.
+
+“Do you mean, sir, that I been unconscious for a spell?” suggested Yancy
+rather fearfully, glancing from one to the other.
+
+“It's been right smart of a spell, too; yes, sir, you've laid like you
+was dead, and not fo' a matter of hours either--but days.”
+
+“How long?”
+
+“Well, nigh on to three weeks.”
+
+They saw Yancy's eyes widen with a look of dumb horror.
+
+“Three weeks!” he at length repeated, and groaned miserably. He was
+thinking of Hannibal.
+
+“You was mighty droll to look at when I fished you up out of the river,”
+ continued Mr. Cavendish. “You'd been cut and beat up scandalous!”
+
+“And you don't know nothing about my nevvy?--you ain't seen or heard of
+him, ma'am?” faltered Yancy, and glanced up into Polly's comely face.
+
+Polly shook her head regretfully.
+
+“How come you in the river?” asked Cavendish.
+
+“I reckon I was throwed in. It was a man named Murrell and another
+man named Slosson. They tried fo' to murder me--they wanted to get my
+nevvy--I 'low they done it!” and Yancy groaned again.
+
+“You'll get him back,” said Polly soothingly.
+
+“Could you-all put me asho'?” inquired Yancy, with sudden eagerness.
+
+“We could, but we won't,” said Cavendish, in no uncertain tone.
+
+“Why, la!--you'd perish!” exclaimed Polly.
+
+“Are we far from where you-all picked me up?”
+
+Cavendish nodded. He did not like to tell Yancy the distance they had
+traversed.
+
+“Where are you-all taking me?” asked Yancy.
+
+“Well, stranger, that's a question I can't answer offhand. The Tennessee
+are a twister; mebby it will be Kentucky; mebby it will be Illinoy, and
+mebby it will be down yonder on the Mississippi. My tribe like this way
+of moving about, and it certainly favors a body's legs.”
+
+“How old was your nevvy?” inquired Polly, reading the troubled look in
+Yancy's gray eyes.
+
+“Ten or thereabouts, ma'am. He were a heap of comfort to me,” and the
+whisper on Yancy's lips was wonderfully tender and wistful.
+
+“Just the age of my Richard,” said Polly, her glance full of compassion
+and pity.
+
+Mr. Cavendish essayed to speak, but was forced to pause and clear his
+throat. The allusion to Richard in this connection having been almost
+more than he could endure with equanimity. When he was able to put his
+thoughts into words, he said:
+
+“I shore am distressed fo' you. I tried to leave you back yonder where
+I found you, but no one knowed you and you looked so near dead folks
+wouldn't have it. What parts do you come from?”
+
+“No'th Carolina. Me and my nevvy was a-goin' into west Tennessee to
+a place called Belle Plain, somewhere near Memphis. We have friends
+there,” explained Yancy.
+
+“That settles it!” cried Cavendish. “It won't be Kentucky, and it won't
+be Illinoy; I'll put you asho' at Memphis; mebby you'll find yo' nevvy
+there after all.”
+
+“That's the best. You lay still and get yo' strength back as fast as
+you can, and try not to worry--do now.” Polly's voice was soft and
+wheedling.
+
+“I reckon I been a heap of bother to you-all,” said Yancy.
+
+“La, no,” Polly assured him; “you ain't been.”
+
+And now the six little Cavendishes appeared on the scene. The pore
+gentleman had come to--sho! He had got his senses back--sho! he wa'n't
+goin' to die after all; he could talk. Sho! a body could hear him plain!
+Excited beyond measure they scurried about in their fluttering rags of
+nightgowns for a sight and hearing of the pore gentleman. They struggled
+madly to climb over their parents, and failing this--under them. But the
+opening that served as a door to the shanty being small, and being as it
+was completely stoppered by their father and mother who were in no mood
+to yield an inch, they distributed themselves in quest of convenient
+holes in the bark edifice through which to peer at the pore gentleman.
+And since the number of youthful Cavendishes exceeded the number of such
+holes, the sound of lamentation and recrimination presently filled the
+morning air.
+
+“I kin see the soles of his feet!” shrieked Keppel with passionate
+intensity, his small bleached eye glued to a crack.
+
+He was instantly ravished of the sight by Henry.
+
+“You mean hateful thing!--just because you're bigger than Kep!” and
+Constance fell on the spoiler. As her mother's right-hand man she
+had cuffed and slapped her way to a place of power among the little
+brothers.
+
+Mr. Cavendish appeared to allay hostilities.
+
+“I 'low I'll skin you if you don't keep still! Dress!--the whole kit and
+b'ilin' of you!” he roared, and his manner was quite as ferocious as his
+words.
+
+But the six little Cavendishes were impressed by neither. They instantly
+fastened on him like so many leeches. What was the pore gentleman
+saying?--why couldn't they hear, too? Then they'd keep still, sure they
+would! Did he say he knowed who throwed him in the river?
+
+“I wonder, Connie, you ain't able to do more with these here children.
+Seems like you ought to--a great big girl like you,” said Mr. Cavendish,
+reduced to despair.
+
+“It was Henry pickin' on Kep,” cried Constance.
+
+“I found a crack and he took it away from me! drug me off by the legs,
+he did, and filled my stomach full of slivers!” wailed Keppel, suddenly
+remembering he had a grievance. “You had ought to let me see the pore
+gentleman!” he added ingratiatingly.
+
+“Well, ain't you been seein' him every day fo' risin' two weeks and
+upwards?--ain't you sat by him hours at a stretch?” demanded Mr.
+Cavendish fiercely.
+
+Sho--that didn't count, he only kept a mutterin'--sho!--arollin' his
+head sideways, sho! And their six tow heads were rolled to illustrate
+their meaning. And a-pluckin' at a body's hands!--and they plucked at
+Mr. Cavendish's hands. Sho--did he say why he done that?
+
+“If you-all will quit yo' noise and dress, you-all kin presently set by
+the pore gentleman. If you don't, I'll have to speak to yo' mother; I
+'low she'll trim you! I reckon you-all don't want me to call her? No, by
+thunderation!--because you-all know she won't stand no nonsense! She'll
+fan you; she'll take the flat of her hand to you-all and make you skip
+some; I reckon I'd get into my pants befo' she starts on the warpath. I
+wouldn't give her no such special opportunity as you're offerin'!”
+ Mr. Cavendish's voice and manner had become entirely confidential and
+sympathetic, and though fear of their mother could not be said to bulk
+high on their horizon, yet the small Cavendishes were persuaded by sheer
+force of his logic to withdraw and dress. Their father hurried back to
+Yancy.
+
+“I was just thinkin', sir,” he said, “that if it would be any comfort to
+you, we'll tie up to the bank right here and wait until you can travel.
+I'm powerfully annoyed at having fetched you all this way!”
+
+But Yancy shook his head.
+
+“I'll be glad to go on to Memphis with you. If my nevvy got away from
+Murrell, that's where I'll find him. I reckon folks will be kind to him
+and sort of help him along. Why, he ain't much mo' than knee high!”
+
+“Shore they will! there's a lot of good in the world, so don't you fret
+none about him!” cried Polly.
+
+“I can't do much else, ma'am, than think of him bein' lonesome and
+hungry, maybe--and terribly frightened. What do you-all suppose he
+thought when he woke up and found me gone?” But neither Polly nor her
+husband had any opinion to venture on this point. “If I don't find him
+in Memphis I'll take the back track to No'th Carolina, stoppin' on the
+way to see that man Slosson.”
+
+“Well, I 'low there's a fit comin' to him when he gets sight of you!”
+ and Cavendish's bleached blue eyes sparkled at the thought.
+
+“There's a heap mo' than a fit. I don't bear malice, but I stay mad a
+long time,” answered Yancy grimly:
+
+“You shouldn't talk no mo',” said Polly. “You must just lay quiet
+and get yo' strength back. Now, I'm goin' to fix you a good meal of
+vittles.” She motioned Cavendish to follow her, and they both withdrew
+from the shanty.
+
+Yancy closed his eyes, and presently, lulled by the soft ripple that
+bore them company, fell into a restful sleep.
+
+“When he told us of his nevvy, Dick, and I got to thinkin' of his bein'
+just the age of our Richard, I declare it seemed like something got in
+my throat and I'd choke. Do you reckon he'll ever find him?” said Polly,
+as she busied herself with preparations for their breakfast.
+
+“I hope so, Polly!” said Cavendish, but her words were a powerful
+assault on his feelings, which at all times lay close to the surface and
+were easily stirred.
+
+Under stress of his emotions, he now enjoined silence on his family,
+fortifying the injunction with dire threats as to the consequences that
+would descend with lightning--like suddenness on the head of the
+unlucky sinner who forgot and raised his voice above a whisper. Then he
+despatched a chicken; sure sign that he and Polly considered their guest
+had reached the first stage of convalescence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. AN ORPHAN MAN OF TITLE
+
+
+The raft drifted on into the day's heat; and when at last Yancy awoke,
+it was to find Henry and Keppel seated beside him, each solacing him
+with a small moist hand, while they regarded him out of the serious
+unblinking eyes of childhood.
+
+“Howdy!” said he, smiling up at them.
+
+“Howdy!” they answered, a sociable grin puckering their freckled faces.
+
+“Do you find yo'self pretty well, sir?” inquired Keppel.
+
+“I find myself pretty weak,” replied Yancy.
+
+“Me and Kep has been watching fo' to keep the flies from stinging you,”
+ explained Henry.
+
+“We-all takes turns doin' that,” Keppel added.
+
+“Well, and how many of you-all are there?” asked Yancy.
+
+“There's six of we-uns and the baby.”
+
+They covertly examined this big bearded man who had lost his nevvy, and
+almost his life. They had overheard their father and mother discuss
+his plans and knew when he was recovered from his wounds if he did not
+speedily meet up with his nevvy at a place called Memphis, he was going
+back to Lincoln County, which was near where they came from, to have the
+hide off a gentleman of the name of Slosson. They imagined the gentleman
+named Slosson would find the operation excessively disagreeable; and
+that Yancy should be recuperating for so unique an enterprise invested
+him with a romantic interest. Henry squirmed closer to the recumbent
+figure on the bed.
+
+“Me and Kep would like mighty well to know how you-all are goin' to
+strip the hide offen to that gentleman's back,” he observed.
+
+Yancy instantly surmised that the reference was to Slosson.
+
+“I reckon I'll feel obliged to just naturally skin him,” he explained.
+
+“Sho', will he let you do that?” they demanded.
+
+“He won't be consulted none. And his hide will come off easy once I get
+hold of him by the scruff of the neck.” Yancy's speech was gentle and
+his lips smiling, but he meant a fair share of what he said.
+
+“Sho', is that the way you do it?” And round-eyed they gazed down on
+this fascinating stranger.
+
+“I may have to touch him up with a tickler,” continued Yancy, who did
+not wish to prove disappointing. “I reckon you-all know what a tickler
+is?”
+
+They nodded.
+
+“What if Mr. Slosson totes a tickler, too?” asked Keppel insinuatingly.
+This opened an inviting field for conjecture.
+
+“That won't make no manner of difference. Why? Because it's a powerful
+drawback fo' a man to know he's in the wrong, just as it's a heap in yo'
+favor to know you're in the right.”
+
+“My father's got a tickler; I seen it often,” vouchsafed Henry.
+
+“It's a foot long, with a buck horn handle. Gee whiz!--he keeps it keen;
+but he never uses it on no humans,” said Keppel.
+
+“Of course he don't; he's a high-spirited, right-actin' gentleman.
+But what do you reckon he'd feel obliged to do if a body stole one of
+you-all?” inquired Yancy.
+
+“Whoop! He'd carve 'em deep!” cried Keppel.
+
+At this moment Mrs. Cavendish appeared, bringing Yancy's breakfast. In
+her wake came Connie with the baby, and the three little brothers who
+were to be accorded the cherished privilege of seeing the poor gentleman
+eat.
+
+“You got a nice little family, ma'am,” said Yancy.
+
+“Well, I reckon nobody complains mo' about their children than me, but
+I reckon nobody gets mo' comfort out of their children either. I hope
+you-all are a-goin' to be able to eat, you ain't had much nourishment.
+La, does yo' shoulder pain you like that? Want I should feed you?”
+
+“I am sorry, ma'am, but I reckon you'll have to,” Yancy spoke
+regretfully. “I expect I been a passel of bother to you.”
+
+“No, you ain't. Here's Dick to see how you make out with the chicken,”
+ Polly added, as Cavendish presented himself at the opening that did duty
+as a door.
+
+“This looks like bein' alive, stranger,” he commented genially. He
+surveyed the group of which Yancy was the center. “If them children gets
+too numerous, just throw 'em out.”
+
+“You-all ain't told me yo' name yet?” said Yancy.
+
+“It's Cavendish. Richard Keppel Cavendish, to get it all off my mind at
+a mouthful. And this lady's Mrs. Cavendish.”
+
+“My name's Yancy--Bob Yancy.”
+
+Mr. Cavendish exchanged glances with Mrs. Cavendish. By a nod of her
+dimpled chin the lady seemed to urge some more extended confidence on
+his part. Chills and Fever seated himself at the foot of Yancy's bed.
+
+“Stranger, what I'm a-goin' to tell you, you'll take as bein' said man
+to man,” he began, with the impressive air of one who had a secret of
+great moment to impart; and Yancy hastened to assure him that whatever
+passed between them, his lips should be sealed. “It ain't really that,
+but I don't wish to appear proud afo' no man's, eyes. First, I want to
+ask you, did you ever hear tell of titles?”
+
+Polly and the children hung breathlessly on Mr. Yancy's reply.
+
+“I certainly have,” he rejoined promptly. “Back in No'th Carolina we
+went by the chimneys.”
+
+“Chimneys? What's chimneys got to do with titles, Mr. Yancy?” asked
+Polly, while her husband appeared profoundly mystified.
+
+“A whole lot, ma'am. If a man had two chimneys to his house we always
+called him Colonel, if there was four chimneys we called him General.”
+
+“La!” cried Polly, smiling and showing a number of new dimples. “Dick
+don't mean militia titles, Mr. Yancy.”
+
+“Them's the only ones I know anything of,” confessed Yancy.
+
+“Ever hear tell of lords?” inquired Chills and Fever, tilting his head
+on one side.
+
+“No.” And Yancy was quick to notice the look of disappointment on the
+faces of his new friends. He felt that for some reason, which was by no
+means clear to him, he had lost caste.
+
+“Are you ever heard of royalty?” and Cavendish fixed the invalid's
+wandering glance.
+
+“You mean kings?”
+
+“I shore do.”
+
+Yancy regarded him reflectively and made a mighty mental effort.
+
+“There's them Bible kings--” he ventured at length.
+
+Mr. Cavendish shook his head.
+
+“Them's sacred kings. Are you familiar with any of the profane kings,
+Mr. Yancy?”
+
+“Well, taking them as they come, them Bible kings seemed to average
+pretty profane.” Yancy was disposed to defend this point.
+
+“You must a heard of the kings of England. Sho', wa'n't any of yo' folks
+in the war agin' him?”
+
+“I'd plumb forgot, why my daddy fit all through that war!” exclaimed
+Yancy. The Cavendishes were immensely relieved. Polly beamed on the
+invalid, and the children hunched closer. Six pairs of eager lips were
+trembling on the verge of speech.
+
+“Now you-all keep still,” said Cavendish. “I want Mr. Yancy should get
+the straight of this here! The various orders of royalty are kings,
+dukes, earls and lords. Earls is the third from the top of the heap, but
+lords ain't no slouch; it's a right neat little title, and them that has
+it can turn round in most any company.”
+
+“Dick had ought to know, fo' he's an earl himself,” cried Polly
+exultantly, unable to restrain herself any longer, while a mutter came
+from the six little Cavendishes who had been wonderfully silent for
+them.
+
+“Sho', Richard Keppel Cavendish, Earl of Lambeth! 'Sho', that was what
+he was! Sho'!” and some transient feeling of awe stamped itself upon
+their small faces as they viewed the long and limber figure of their
+parent.
+
+“Is that mo' than a Colonel?” Yancy risked the question hesitatingly,
+but he felt that speech was expected from him.
+
+“Yes,” said the possessor of the title.
+
+“Would a General lay it over you any?”
+
+“No, sir, he wouldn't.”
+
+Yancy gazed respectfully but uncertainly at Chills and Fever.
+
+“Then all I got to say is that I've traveled considerably, mostly
+between Scratch Hill and Balaam's Cross Roads, meeting with all kinds of
+folks; but I never seen an earl afo. I take it they are some scarce.”
+
+“They are. I don't reckon there's another one but me in the whole United
+States.”
+
+“Think of that!” gasped Yancy.
+
+“We ain't nothin' fo' style, it bein' my opinion that where a man's a
+born gentleman he's got a heap of reason fo' to be grateful but none to
+brag,” said Cavendish.
+
+“Dick's kind of titles are like having red hair and squint eyes. Once
+they get into a family they stick,” explained Polly.
+
+“I've noticed that, 'specially about squint eyes.” Yancy was glad to
+plant his feet on familiar ground.
+
+“These here titles go to the eldest son. He begins by bein' a viscount,”
+ continued Chills and Fever. He wished Yancy to know the full measure of
+their splendor.
+
+“And their wives are ladies-ain't they, Dick?”
+
+Cavendish nodded.
+
+“Anybody with half an eye would know you was a lady, ma'am,” said Yancy.
+
+“Kep here is an Honorable, same as a senator or a congressman,”
+ Cavendish went on.
+
+“At his age, too!” commented Yancy.
+
+“And my daughter's the Lady Constance,” said Polly.
+
+“Havin' such a mother she ain't no choice,” observed Yancy, with an air
+of gentle deference.
+
+“Dick's got the family, Mr. Yancy. My folks, the Rhetts, was plain
+people.”
+
+“Some of 'em ain't so noticeably plain, either,” said Yancy.
+
+“Sho', you've a heap of good sense, Mr. Yancy!” and Cavendish shook him
+warmly by the hand. “The first time I ever seen her, I says, I'll marry
+that lady if it takes an arm! Well, it did most of the time while I was
+co'tin' her.”
+
+“La!” cried Polly, blushing furiously. “You shouldn't tell that, Dick.
+Mr. Yancy ain't interested.”
+
+“Yes, sir, I'd been hearin' about old man Rhett's Polly fo' considerable
+of a spell,” said Cavendish, looking at Polly reflectively. “He lived up
+at the head waters of the Elk River. Fellows who had been to his place,
+when girls was mentioned would sort of shake their heads sad-like and
+say, 'Yes, but you had ought to see old man Rhett's Polly, all the rest
+is imitations!' Seemed like they couldn't get her off their minds. So
+I just slung my kit to my back, shouldered my rifle, and hoofed it
+up-stream. I says, I'll see for myself where this here paragon lays it
+all over the rest of her sect, but sho--the closter I came to old man
+Rhett the mo' I heard of Polly!”
+
+“Dick, how you do run on,” cried Polly protestingly, but Chills and
+Fever's knightly soul dwelt in its illusions, and the years had not
+made stale his romance. Also Polly was beaming on him with a wealth of
+affection.
+
+“I seen her fo' the first time as I was warmin' the trail within a mile
+of old man Rhett's. She was carrying a grist of co'n down to the mill
+in her father's ox cart. When I clapped eyes on her I says, 'I'll marry
+that lady. I'll make her the Countess of Lambeth--she'll shore do fo'
+the peerage any day!' That was yo' mommy, sneezic's!” Mr. Cavendish
+paused to address himself to the baby whom Connie had relinquished to
+him.
+
+“You bet I made time the rest of the way. I says, 'She's sixteen if
+she's a day, and all looks!' I broke into old man Rhett's clearin' on a
+keen run. He was a settin' afo' his do' smokin' his pipe and he glanced
+me over kind of weary-like and says, 'Howdy!' It wa'n't much of a
+greetin' the way he said it either; but I figured it was some better
+than bein' chased off the place. So I stepped indo's, stood my rifle in
+a corner and hung up my cap. He was watchin' me and presently he drawled
+out, 'Make yo'self perfectly at home, stranger.'
+
+“I says, 'Squire'--he wa'n't a squire, but they called him that--I says,
+'Squire, my name's Cavendish. Let's get acquainted quick. I'm here fo'
+to co'te yo' Polly. I seen her on the road a spell back and I couldn't
+be better suited.'
+
+“He says, 'You had ought to be kivered up in salt, young man, else yo'll
+spile in this climate.'
+
+“I says, 'I'll keep in any climate.'
+
+“He says, 'Polly ain't givin' her thoughts much to marryin', she's busy
+keepin' house fo' her pore old father.'
+
+“I says, 'I've come here special fo' to arouse them thoughts you
+mention. If I seem slow.'
+
+“He says, 'You don't. If this is yo' idea of bein' slow, I'd wish to
+avoid you when you was in a hurry.'
+
+“I says, 'Put in yo' spare moments thinkin' up a suitable blessin' fo'
+us.'
+
+“He says, 'You'll have yo' hands full. There's a number of young fellows
+hereabouts that you don't lay it over none in p'int of freshness or
+looks.'
+
+“I says, 'Does she encourage any of 'em?'
+
+“He says, 'Nope, she don't. Ain't I been tellin' you she's givin' her
+mind to keepin' house fo' her pore old father?'
+
+“I says, 'If she don't encourage 'em none, she shore must disencourage
+'em. I 'low she gets my help in that.'
+
+“He says, 'They'll run you so far into the mountings, Mr. Cavendish,
+you'll never be heard tell of again in these parts.'
+
+“I says, 'I'll bust the heads offen these here galoots if they try
+that!'
+
+“He asks, grinnin', 'Have you arranged how yo' remains are to be sent
+back to yo' folks?'
+
+“I says, 'I'm an orphan man of title, a peer of England, and you can
+leave me lay if it cones to that.'
+
+“'Well,'. he says, 'if them's yo' wishes, the buzzards as good as got
+you.”' Cavendish lapsed into a momentary silence. It was plain that
+these were cherished memories.
+
+“That's what I call co'tin!” remarked Mr. Yancy, with conviction.
+
+The Earl of Lambeth resumed
+
+“It was as bad as old man Rhett said it was. Sundays his do'yard looked
+like a militia muster. They told it on him that he hadn't cut a stick
+of wood since Polly was risin' twelve. I reckon, without exaggeration,
+I fit every unmarried man in that end of the county, and two lookin'
+widowers from Nashville. I served notice on to them that I'd attend to
+that woodpile of old man Rhett's fo' the future; that I was qualifying
+fo' to be his son-in-law, and seekin' his indorsement as a provider. I
+took 'em on one at a time as they happened along, and lambasted 'em all
+over the place. As fo' the Nashville widowers,” said Cavendish with a
+chuckle, and a nod to Polly, “I pretty nigh drownded one of 'em in the
+Elk. We met in mid-stream and fit it out there; and the other quit the
+county. That was fo'teen years ago; but, mind you, I'd do it all over
+again to-morrow.”
+
+“But, Dick, you ain't telling Mr. Yancy nothin' about yo' title,”
+ expostulated Polly.
+
+“I'd admire to hear mo' about that,” said Yancy.
+
+“I'm gettin' round to that. It was my great grandfather come over here
+from England. His name was Richard Keppel Cavendish, same as mine is.
+He lived back yonder on the Carolina coast and went to raisin' tobacco.
+I've heard my grandfather tell how he'd heard folks say his father was
+always hintin' in his licker that he was a heap better than he seemed,
+and if people only knowed the truth about him they'd respect him mo',
+and mebby treat him better. Well, sir, he married and riz a family;
+there was my grandfather and a passel of girls--and that crop of
+children was the only decent crop he ever riz. I've heard my grandfather
+tell how, when he got old enough to notice such things, he seen that his
+father had the look of a man with something mysterious hangin' over him,
+but he couldn't make it out what it was, though he gave it a heap of
+study. He seen, too, that let him get a taste of licker and he'd begin
+to throw out them hints, how if folks only knowed the truth they'd be
+just naturally fallin' over themselves fo' to do him a favor, instead of
+pickin' on him and tryin' to down him.
+
+“My grandfather said he never knowed a man, either, with the same
+aversion agin labor as his father had. Folks put it down to laziness,
+but they misjudged him, as come out later, yet he never let on. He just
+went around sorrowful-like, and when there was a piece of work fo' him
+to do he'd spend a heap of time studyin' it, or mebby he'd just set
+and look at it until he was ready fo' to give it up. Appeared like he
+couldn't bring himself down to toil.
+
+“Then one day he got his hands on a paper that had come acrost in a ship
+from England. He was readin' it, settin' in the shade; my grandfather
+said he always noticed he was partial to the shade, and his wife was
+pesterin' of him fo' to go and plow out his truck-patch, when, all at
+once, he lit on something in the paper, and he started up and let out
+a yell like he'd been shot. 'By gum, I'm the Earl of Lambeth!' he says,
+and took out to the nearest tavern and got b'ilin' full. Afterward he
+showed 'em the paper and they seen with their own eyes where Richard
+Keppel Cavendish, Earl of Lambeth, had died in London. My great
+grandfather told 'em that was his uncle; that when he left home there
+was several cousins--which was printed in the paper, too--but they'd up
+and died, so the title naturally come to him.
+
+“Well, sir, that was the first the family ever knowed of it, and then
+they seen what it was he'd meant when he throwed out them hints about
+bein' a heap better than he seemed. He said perhaps he wouldn't never
+have told, only he couldn't bear to be misjudged like he'd always been.
+
+“He never done a lick of work after that. He said he couldn't bring
+himself down to it; that it was demeanin' fo' a person of title fo' to
+labor with his hands like a nigger or a common white man. He said he'd
+leave it to his family to see he didn't come to want, it didn't so much
+matter about them; and he lived true to his principles to the day of his
+death, and never riz his hand except to feed himself.”
+
+Cavendish paused. Yancy was feeling that in his own person he had
+experienced some of the best symptoms of a title.
+
+“Then what?” he asked.
+
+“Well, sir, he lived along like that, never complainin', my grandfather
+said, but mighty sweet and gentlelike as long as there was plenty to eat
+in the house. He lived to be nigh eighty, and when he seen he was
+goin' to die he called my grandfather to him and says, 'She's yours,
+Dick,'--meanin' the title--and then he says, 'There's one thing I've
+kep' from you. You've been a viscount ever since I come into the title,
+and then he went on and explained what he wanted cut on his tombstone,
+and had my grandfather write it out, so there couldn't be any mistake.
+When he'd passed away, my grandfather took the title. He said it made
+him feel mighty solemn and grand-like, and it come over him all at once
+why it was his father hadn't no heart fo' work.”
+
+“Does it always take 'em that way?” inquired Yancy.
+
+“It takes the Earls of Lambeth that way. I reckon you might say it was
+hereditary with 'em. Where was I at?”
+
+“Your grandpap, the second earl,” prompted Polly.
+
+“Oh, yes--well, he 'lowed he'd emigrate back to England, but while
+he was studying how he could do this, along come the war. He said he
+couldn't afford to fight agin his king, so he pulled out and crossed the
+mountings to avoid being drug into the army. He said he couldn't let it
+get around that the Earls of Lambeth was shootin' English soldiers.”
+
+“Of course he couldn't,” agreed Yancy.
+
+“It's been my dream to take Polly and the children and go back to
+England and see the king about my title. I 'low he'd be some surprised
+to see us. I'd like to tell him, too, what the Earls of Lambeth done fo'
+him--that they was always loyal, and thought a heap better of him than
+their neighbors done, and mebby some better than he deserved. Don't you
+reckon that not hearin' from us, he's got the notion the Cavendishes has
+petered out?”
+
+Mr. Yancy considered this likely, and said so.
+
+“You might send him writin' in a letter,” he suggested.
+
+The furious shrieking of a steam-packet's whistle broke in upon them.
+
+“It's another of them hawgs, wantin' all the river!” said Mr. Cavendish,
+and fled in haste to the steering oar.
+
+During all the long days that followed, Mr. Yancy was forced to own
+that these titled friends of his were, despite their social position,
+uncommon white in their treatment of him. The Earl of Lambeth consorted
+with him in that fine spirit that recognizes the essential brotherhood
+of man, while his Lady Countess was, as Yancy observed, on the whole, a
+person of simple and uncorrupted tastes. She habitually went barefoot,
+both as a matter of comfort and economy, and she smoked her cob-pipe as
+did those other ladies of Lincoln County who had married into far less
+exalted stations than her own. He put these simple survivals down to
+her native goodness of heart, which would not allow of her succumbing
+to mere pride and vainglory, for he no more doubted their narrative than
+they, doubted it themselves, which was not at all.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. THE JUDGE SEES A GHOST
+
+
+Charley Norton's good offices did not end when he had furnished judge
+Price with a house, for Betty required of him that he should supply
+that gentleman with legal business as well. When she pointed out the
+necessity of this, Norton demurred. He had no very urgent need of a
+lawyer, and had the need existed, Slocum Price would not have been his
+choice. Betty knit her brows.
+
+“He must have a chance; perhaps if people knew you employed him it would
+give them confidence--you must realize this, Charley; it isn't enough
+that he has a house--he can't wear it nor eat it!”
+
+“And fortunately he can't drink it, either. I don't want to discourage
+you, but his looks are all against him, Betty. If you take too great
+an interest in his concerns I am afraid you are going to have him
+permanently on your hands.”
+
+“Haven't you some little scrap of business that really doesn't matter
+much, Charley? You might try him--just to please me--” she persisted
+coaxingly.
+
+“Well, there's land I'm buying--I suppose I could get him to look up the
+title, I know it's all right anyhow,” said Norton, after a pause.
+
+Thus it happened that judge Price, before he had been three days in
+Raleigh, received a civil note from Mr. Norton asking him to search
+the title to a certain timber tract held by one Joseph Quaid; a
+communication the effect of which was out of all proportion to the size
+of the fee involved. The judge, powerfully excited, told Mahaffy he
+was being understood and appreciated; that the tide of prosperity was
+clearly setting his way; that intelligent foresight, not chance, had
+determined him when he selected Raleigh instead of Memphis. Thereafter
+he spoke of Charley Norton only as “My client,” and exalted him for his
+breeding, wealth and position, refusing to admit that any man in the
+county was held in quite the same esteem. All of which moved Mahaffy to
+flashes of grim sarcasm.
+
+The immediate result of Norton's communication had been to send the
+judge up the street to the courthouse. He would show his client that he
+could be punctual and painstaking. He should have his abstract of title
+without delay; moreover, he had in mind a scholarly effort entirely
+worthy of himself. The dull facts should be illuminated with an
+occasional striking phrase. He considered that it would doubtless be of
+interest to Mr. Norton, in this connection, to know something, too, of
+mediaeval land tenure, ancient Roman and modern English. He proposed
+artfully to pander to his client's literary tastes--assuming that he had
+such tastes. But above all, this abstract must be entirely explanatory
+of himself, since its final purpose was to remove whatever doubts his
+mere appearance might have bred in Mr. Norton's mind.
+
+“If my pocket could just be brought to stand the strain of new clothes
+before the next sitting of court, I might reasonably hope for a share of
+the pickings,” thought the judge.
+
+Entering the court-house, he found himself in a narrow hall. On his
+right was the jury-room, and on his left the county clerk's office,
+stuffy little holes, each lighted by a single window. Beyond, and
+occupying the full width of the building, was the court-room, with its
+hard, wooden benches and its staring white walls. Advancing to the door,
+which stood open, the judge surveyed the room with the greatest possible
+satisfaction. He could fancy it echoing to that eloquence of which he
+felt himself to be the master. He would show the world, yet, what was
+in him, and especially Solomon Mahaffy, who clearly had not taken his
+measure.
+
+Turning away from the agreeable picture his mind had conjured up,
+he entered the county clerk's office. He was already known to this
+official, whose name was Saul, and he now greeted him with a pleasant
+air of patronage. Mr. Saul removed his feet from the top of his desk and
+motioned his visitor to a chair; at the same time he hospitably thrust
+forward a square box filled with sawdust. It was plain he labored under
+the impression that the judge's call was of an unprofessional character.
+
+“A little matter of business brings me here, sir,” began the judge,
+with a swelling chest and mellow accents. “No, sir, I'll not be
+seated--another time I'll share your leisure if I may--now I am in some
+haste to look up a title for my client, Mr. Norton.”
+
+“What Norton?” asked Mr. Saul, when he had somewhat recovered from the
+effect of this announcement.
+
+“Mr. Charles Norton, of Thicket Point,” said the judge.
+
+“I reckon you mean that timber tract of old Joe Quaid's.” Mr. Saul
+viewed the judge's ruinous exterior with a glance of respectful awe,
+for clearly a man who could triumph over such a handicap must possess
+uncommon merit of some sort. “So you're looking after Charley Norton's
+business for him, are you?” he added.
+
+“He's a client of mine. We have mutual friends, sir--I refer to Miss
+Malroy,” the judge vouchsafed to explain.
+
+“You're naming our best people, sir, when you name the Malroys and the
+Nortons; they are pretty much in a class by themselves,” said Mr. Saul,
+whose awe of the judge was momentarily increasing.
+
+“I don't underestimate the value of a social endorsement, sir, but
+I've never stood on that,” observed the judge. “I've come amongst you
+unheralded, but I expect you to find me out. Now, sir, if you'll be good
+enough, I'll glance at the record.”
+
+Mr. Saul scrambled up out of the depths of his chair and exerted himself
+in the judge's behalf.
+
+“This is what you want, sir. Better take the ledger to the window, the
+light in here ain't much.” He drew forward a chair as he spoke, and
+the judge, seating himself, began to polish his spectacles with great
+deliberation. He felt that he had reached a crisis in his career, and
+was disposed to linger over the hope that was springing up in his heart.
+
+“How does the docket for the next term of court stand?” he inquired.
+
+“Pretty fair, sir,” said Mr. Saul.
+
+“Any litigation of unusual interest in prospect?” The judge was fitting
+his glasses to the generous arch of his nose, a feature which nicely
+indexed its owner's habits.
+
+“No, sir, just the ordinary run of cases.”
+
+“I hoped to hear you say different.”
+
+“You've set on the bench, sir?” suggested Mr. Saul.
+
+“In one of the eastern counties, but my inclination has never been
+toward the judiciary. My temperament, sir, is distinctly aggressive--and
+each one according to the gifts with which God has been graciously
+pleased to endow him! I am frank to say, however, that my decisions have
+received their meed of praise from men thoroughly competent to speak
+on such matters.” He was turning the leaves of the ledger as he spoke.
+Suddenly the movement of his hand was arrested.
+
+“Found it?” asked Mr. Saul. But the judge gave him no answer; absorbed
+and aloof he was staring down at the open pages of the book. “Found the
+entry?” repeated Mr. Saul.
+
+“Eh?--what's that? No--” he appeared to hesitate. “Who is this man
+Quintard?” The question cost him an effort, that was plain.
+
+“He's the owner of a hundred-thousand-acre tract in this and abutting
+counties,” said Mr. Saul.
+
+The judge continued to stare down at the page.
+
+“Is he a resident of the county?” he asked, at length.
+
+“No, he lives back yonder in North Carolina.”
+
+“A hundred thousand acres!” the judge muttered thoughtfully.
+
+“There or thereabouts--yes, sir.”
+
+“Who has charge of the land?”
+
+“Colonel Fentress; he was old General Ware's law partner. I've heard it
+was the general who got this man Quintard to make the investment, but
+that was before my time in these parts.”
+
+The judge lapsed into a heavy, brooding silence.
+
+A step sounded in the narrow hall. An instant later the door was pushed
+open, and grateful for any interruption that would serve to take Mr.
+Saul's attention from himself, the judge abruptly turned his back on the
+clerk and began to examine the record before him. Engrossed in this, he
+was at first scarcely aware of the conversation that was being carried
+on within a few feet of him. Insensibly, however, the cold, level tones
+of the voice that was addressing itself to Mr. Saul quickened the beat
+of his pulse, the throb of his heart, and struck back through the years
+to a day from which he reckoned time. The heavy, calf-bound volume in
+his hand shook like a leaf in a gale. He turned slowly, as if in dread
+of what he might see.
+
+What he saw was a man verging on sixty, lean and dark, with thin, shaven
+cheeks of a bluish cast above the jaw, and a strongly aquiline profile.
+Long, black locks swept the collar of his coat, while his tall, spare
+figure was habited in sleek broadcloth and spotless linen. For a moment
+the judge seemed to struggle with doubt and uncertainty, then his face
+went a ghastly white and the book slipped from his nerveless fingers to
+the window ledge.
+
+The stranger, his business concluded, swung about on his heel and
+quitted the office. The judge, his eyes starting from their sockets,
+stared after him; the very breath died on his lips; speechless and
+motionless, he was still seeing that tall, spare figure as it had passed
+before him, but his memories stripped a weight of thirty years from
+those thin shoulders. At last, heavy-eyed and somber, he glanced about
+him. Mr. Saul, bending above his desk, was making an entry in one of his
+ledgers. The judge shuffled to his side.
+
+“Who was that man?” he asked thickly, resting a shaking hand on the
+clerk's arm.
+
+“That?--Oh, that was Colonel Fentress I was just telling you about.” He
+looked up from his writing. “Hello! You look like you'd seen a ghost!”
+
+“It's the heat in here--I reckon--” said the judge, and began to mop his
+face.
+
+“Ever seen the colonel before?” asked Mr. Saul curiously.
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“Well, sir, he's one of our leading planters, and a mighty fine lawyer.”
+
+“Has he always lived here?”
+
+“No, he came into the county about ten years ago, and bought a place
+called The Oaks, over toward the river.”
+
+“Has he--has he a family?” The judge appeared to be having difficulty
+with his speech.
+
+“Not that anybody knows of. Some say he's a widower, others again say
+he's an old bachelor; but he don't say nothing, for the colonel is as
+close as wax about his own affairs. So it's pure conjecture, sir.” There
+was a brief silence. “The county has its conundrums, and the colonel's
+one of them,” resumed Mr. Saul.
+
+“Yes?” said the judge.
+
+“The colonel's got his friends, to be sure, but he don't mix much with
+the real quality.”
+
+“Why not?” asked the judge.
+
+“He's apparently as high-toned a gentleman as you'd meet with anywhere;
+polished, sir, so smooth your fingers would slip if you tried to take
+hold of him, but it's been commented on that when a horsethief or
+counterfeiter gets into trouble the colonel's always first choice for
+counsel.”
+
+“Get's 'em off, does he?” The judge spoke somewhat grimly.
+
+“Mighty nigh always. But then he has most astonishing luck in the
+matter of witnesses. That's been commented on too.” The judge nodded
+comprehendingly. “I reckon you'd call Tom Ware, out at Belle Plain,
+one of Fentress' closest friends. He's another of your conundrums. I
+wouldn't advise you to be too curious about the colonel.”
+
+“Why not?” The judge was frowning now.
+
+“It will make you unpopular with a certain class. Those of us who've
+been here long enough have learned that there are some of these
+conundrums we'd best not ask an answer for.”
+
+The judge pondered this.
+
+“Do you mean to tell me, sir, that freedom of speech is not allowed?” he
+demanded, with some show of heat.
+
+“Perfect freedom, if you pick and choose your topic,” responded Mr.
+Saul.
+
+“Humph!” ejaculated the judge.
+
+“Now you might talk to me with all the freedom you like, but I'd
+recommend you were cautious with strangers. There have been those who've
+talked freely that have been advised to keep still or harm would come of
+it.”
+
+“And did harm come of it?” asked the judge.
+
+“They always kept still.”
+
+“What do you mean by talking freely?”
+
+“Like asking how so and so got the money to buy his last batch of
+niggers,” explained Mr. Saul rather vaguely.
+
+“And Colonel Fentress is one of those about whose affairs it is best not
+to show too much curiosity?”
+
+“He is, decidedly. His friends appear to set a heap by him. Another of
+his particular intimates is a gentleman by the name of Murrell.”
+
+The judge nodded.
+
+“I've met him,” he said briefly. “Does he belong hereabouts?”
+
+“No, hardly; he seems to hold a sort of roving commission. His home is,
+I believe, near Denmark, in Madison County.”
+
+“What's his antecedents?”
+
+“He's as common a white man as ever came out of the hills, but he
+appears to stand well with Colonel Fentress.”
+
+“Colonel Fentress!” The judge spat in sheer disgust.
+
+“You don't appear to fancy the colonel--” said Mr. Saul.
+
+“I don't fancy wearing a gag--and damned if I do!” cried the judge.
+
+“Oh, it ain't that exactly; it's just minding your own business. I
+reckon you'll find there's lot's to be said in favor of goin' ca'mly on
+attending strictly to your own affairs, sir,” concluded Mr. Saul.
+
+Acting on a sudden impulse, the judge turned to the door. The business
+and the hope that had brought him there were forgotten. He muttered
+something about returning later, and hastily quitted the office.
+
+“Well, I reckon he's a conundrum too!” reflected Mr. Saul, as the door
+swung shut.
+
+In the hall the judge's steps dragged and his head was bowed. He was
+busy with his memories, memories that spanned the desolate waste of
+years in which he had walked from shame to shame, each blacker than the
+last. Then passion shook him.
+
+“Damn him--may God-for ever damn him!” he cried under his breath, in
+a fierce whisper. A burning mist before his eyes, he shuffled down the
+hall, down the steps, and into the shaded, trampled space that was known
+as the court-house yard. Here he paused irresolutely. Across the way was
+the gun-maker's shop, the weather-beaten sign came within range of
+his vision, and the dingy white letters on their black ground spelled
+themselves out. The words seemed to carry some message, for the judge,
+with his eyes fixed on the sign as on some beacon of hope, plunged
+across the dusty road and entered the shop.
+
+
+At supper that night it was plain to both Mr. Mahaffy and Hannibal
+that the judge was in a state of mind best described as beatific. The
+tenderest consideration, the gentlest courtesy flowed from him as from
+an unfailing spring; not that he was ever, even in his darkest hours,
+socially remiss, but there was now a special magnificence to his manner
+that bred suspicion in Mahaffy's soul. When he noted that the judge's
+shoes were extremely dusty, this suspicion shaped itself definitely. He
+was convinced that on the strength of his prospective fee the judge had
+gone to Belle Plain, for what purpose Mr. Mahaffy knew only too well.
+
+“It took you some time to get up that abstract, didn't it, Price?” he
+presently said, with artful indirection.
+
+“I shall go on with that in the morning, Solomon; my interest was
+dissipated this evening,” rejoined the judge.
+
+“Looks as though you had devoted a good part of your time to
+pedestrianism,” suggested Mahaffy.
+
+“Quite right, so I did, Solomon.”
+
+“Were you at Belle Plain?” demanded Mahaffy harshly and with a black
+scowl. The judge had agreed to keep away from Belle Plain.
+
+“No, Solomon, you forget our pact.”
+
+“Well, I am glad you remembered it.”
+
+They finished supper, the dishes were cleared away and the candles
+lighted, when the judge produced a mysterious leather-covered case. This
+he placed upon the table and opened, and Mahaffy and Hannibal, who had
+drawn near, saw with much astonishment that it held a handsome pair of
+dueling pistols, together with all their necessary paraphernalia.
+
+“Where did you get 'em, Judge?--Oh, ain't they beautiful!” cried
+Hannibal, circling about the table in his excitement.
+
+“My dear lad, they were purchased only a few hours ago,” said the judge
+quietly, as he began to load them.
+
+“For Heaven's sake, Price, do be careful!” warned Mahaffy, who had a
+horror of pistols that extended to no other species of firearm.
+
+“I shall observe all proper caution, Solomon,” the judge assured him
+sweetly.
+
+“Judge, may I try 'em some day?” asked Hannibal.
+
+“Yes, my boy, that's part of a gentleman's education.”
+
+“Well, look out you don't shoot him before his education begins,”
+ snapped Mahaffy.
+
+“Where did you buy 'em?” Hannibal was dodging about the judge, the
+better to follow the operation of loading.
+
+“At the gunsmith's, dear lad. It occurred to me that we required small
+arms. If you'll stand quietly at my elbow and not hop around, you'll
+relieve Mr. Mahaffy's apprehension.”
+
+“I declare, Price, you need a guardian, if ever a man did!” cried
+Mahaffy, in a tone of utter exasperation.
+
+“Why, Solomon?”
+
+“Why?--they are absolutely useless. It was a waste of good money that
+you'll be sorry about.”
+
+“Bless you, Solomon--they ain't paid for!” said the judge, with a thick
+little chuckle.
+
+“I didn't do you the injustice to suppose they were; but you haven't any
+head for business; aren't you just that much nearer the time when not a
+soul here will trust you? That's just like you, to plunge ahead and use
+up your credit on gimcracks!” Mahaffy prided himself on his acquaintance
+with the basic principles of economics.
+
+“I can sell 'em again,” observed the judge placidly.
+
+“For less than half what they are worth!--I never knew so poor a
+manager!”
+
+The pistols were soon loaded, and the judge turned to Hannibal.
+“I regretted that you were not with me out at Boggs' this evening,
+Hannibal; you would have enjoyed seeing me try these weapons there. Now
+carry a candle into the kitchen and place it on the table.”
+
+Mahaffy laughed contemptuously, but was relieved to know the purpose to
+which the judge had devoted the afternoon.
+
+“What aspersion is rankling for utterance within you now, Solomon?” said
+the judge tolerantly. Assuming a position that gave him an unobstructed
+view across the two rooms, he raised the pistol in his hand and
+discharged it in that brief instant when he caught the candle's flame
+between the notches of the sight, but he failed to snuff the candle, and
+a look of bitter disappointment passed over his face. He picked up the
+other pistol. “This time--” he muttered under his breath.
+
+“Try blowing it out try the snuffers!” jeered Mahaffy.
+
+“This time!” repeated the judge, unheeding him, and as the pistol-shot
+rang out the light vanished. “By Heaven, I did it!” roared the judge,
+giving way to an uncontrollable burst of feeling. “I did it--and I can
+'do it again--light the candle, Hannibal!”
+
+He began to load the pistols afresh with feverish haste, and Mahaffy,
+staring at him in amazement, saw that of a sudden the sweat was dripping
+from him. But the judge's excitement prevented his attempting another
+shot at once, twice his hand was raised, twice it was lowered, the
+third time the pistol cracked and the candle's flame was blown level,
+fluttered for a brief instant, and went out.
+
+“Did I nick the tallow, Hannibal?” The judge spoke anxiously.
+
+“Yes, sir, both shots.”
+
+“We must remedy that,” said the judge. Then, as rapidly as he could
+load and fire, bullet after bullet was sent fairly through the flame,
+extinguishing it each time. Mahaffy was too astonished at this display
+of skill even to comment, while Hannibal's delight knew no bounds. “That
+will do!” said the judge at last. He glanced down at the pistol in his
+hand. “This is certainly a gentleman's weapon!” he murmured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE WARNING
+
+
+Norton had ridden down to Belle Plain ostensibly to view certain of
+those improvements that went so far toward embittering Tom Ware's
+existence. Gossip had it that he kept the road hot between the two
+places, and this was an added strain on the planter. But Norton did not
+go to Belle Plain to see Mr. Ware. If that gentleman had been the sole
+attraction, he would have made just one visit suffice; had it preceded
+his own, he would have attended Tom's funeral, and considered that he
+had done a very decent thing. On the present occasion he and Betty were
+strolling about the rehabilitated grounds, and Norton was exhibiting
+that interest and enthusiasm which Betty always expected of him.
+
+“You are certainly making the old place look up!” he said, as they
+passed out upon the terrace. He had noted casually when he rode up the
+lane half an hour before that a horse was tied near Ware's office; a man
+now issued from the building and swung himself into the saddle. Norton
+turned abruptly to Betty. “What's that fellow doing here?” he asked.
+
+“I suppose he comes to see Tom,” said Betty.
+
+“Is he here often?”
+
+“Every day or so.” Betty's tone was indifferent. For reasons which had
+seemed good and sufficient she had never discussed Captain Murrell with
+Norton.
+
+“Every day or so?” repeated Norton. “But you don't see him, Betty?”
+
+“No, of course I don't.”
+
+“Tom has no business allowing that fellow around; if he don't know this
+some one ought to tell him!” Norton was working himself up into a fine
+rage.
+
+“He doesn't bother me, Charley, if that's what you're thinking of. Let's
+talk of something else.”
+
+“He'd better not, or I'll make it a quarrel with him.”
+
+“Oh, you mustn't think of that, Charley, indeed you mustn't!” cried
+Betty in some alarm, for young Mr. Norton was both impulsive and
+hot-headed.
+
+“Well, just how often is Murrell here?” he demanded.
+
+“I told you--every few days. He and Tom seem wonderfully congenial.”
+
+They were silent for a moment.
+
+“Tom always sees him in his office,” explained Betty. She might have
+made her explanation fuller on this point had she cared to do so.
+
+“That's the first decent thing I ever heard of Tom!” said Norton with
+warmth. “But he ought to kick him off the place the first chance he
+gets.”
+
+“Do you think Belle Plain is ever going to look as it did, Charley?--as
+we remember it when we were children?” asked Betty, giving a new
+direction to the conversation.
+
+“Why, of course it is, dear, you are doing wonders!”
+
+“I've really been ashamed of the place, the way it looked--and I can't
+understand Tom!”
+
+“Don't try to,” advised Norton. “Look here, Betty, do you remember
+it was right on this terrace I met you for the first time? My mother
+brought me down, and I arrived with a strong prejudice against you,
+young lady, because of the clothes I'd been put into--they were fine but
+oppressive.”
+
+“How long did the prejudice last, Charley?”
+
+“It didn't last at all, I thought you altogether the nicest little girl
+I'd ever seen--just what I think now, I wish you could care for me,
+Betty, just a little; just enough to marry me.”
+
+“But, Charley, I do care for you! I'm very, very fond of you.”
+
+“Well, don't make such a merit of it,” he said, and they both laughed.
+“I'm at an awful disadvantage, Betty, from having proposed so often.
+That gives it a humorous touch which doesn't properly reflect the state
+of my feeling at all--and you hear me without the least emotion; so long
+as I keep my distance we might just as well be discussing the weather!”
+
+“You are very good about that--”
+
+“Keeping my distance, you mean?--Betty, if you knew how much resolution
+that calls for! I wonder if that isn't my mistake--” And Norton came a
+step nearer and took her in his arms.
+
+With her hands on his shoulders Betty pushed him back, while the rich
+color came into her cheeks. She was remembering Bruce Carrington, who
+had not kept his distance.
+
+“Please, Charley,” she said half angrily, “I do like you tremendously,
+but I simply can't bear you when you act like this--let me go!”
+
+“Betty, I despair of you ever caring for me!” and as Norton turned
+abruptly away he saw Tom Ware appear from about a corner of the house.
+“Oh, hang it, there's Tom!”
+
+“You are very nice, anyway, Charley--” said Betty hurriedly, fortified
+by the planter's approach.
+
+Ware stalked toward them. Having dined with Betty as recently as the day
+before, he contented himself with a nod in her direction. His greeting
+to Norton was a more ambitious undertaking; he said he was pleased to
+see him; but in so far as facial expression might have indorsed the
+statement this pleasure was well disguised, it did not get into his
+features. Pausing on the terrace beside them, he indulged in certain
+observations on the state of the crops and the weather.
+
+“You've lost a couple of niggers, I hear?” he added with an oblique
+glance.
+
+“Yes,” said Norton.
+
+“Got on the track of them yet?” Norton shook his head. “I understand
+you've a new overseer?” continued Ware, with another oblique glance.
+
+“Then you understand wrong--Carrington's my guest,” said Norton. “He's
+talking of putting in a crop for himself next season, so he's willing to
+help me make mine.”
+
+Betty turned quickly at the mention of Carrington's name. She had known
+that he was still at Thicket Point, and having heard him spoken of
+as Norton's new overseer, had meant to ask Charley if he were really
+filling that position. An undefined sense of relief came to her with
+Norton's reply to Tom's question.
+
+“Going to turn farmer, is he?” asked Ware.
+
+“So he says.” Feeling that the only subjects in which he had ever known
+Ware to take the slightest interest, namely, crops and slaves, were
+exhausted, Norton was extremely disappointed when the planter manifested
+a disposition to play the host and returned to the house with them,
+where his mere presence, forbidding and sullen, was such a hardship that
+Norton shortly took his leave.
+
+“Well, hang Tom!” he said, as he rode away from Belle Plain. “If he
+thinks he can freeze me out there's a long siege ahead of him!”
+
+Issuing from the lane he turned his face in the direction of home, but
+he did not urge his horse off a walk. To leave Belle Plain and Betty
+demanded always his utmost resolution. His way took him into the solemn
+twilight of untouched solitudes. A cool breath rippled through the
+depths of the woods and shaped its own soft harmonies where it lifted
+the great branches that arched the road. He crossed strips of bottom
+land where the water stood in still pools about the gnarled and
+moss-covered trunks of trees. At intervals down some sluggish inlet
+he caught sight of the yellow flood that was pouring past, or saw the
+Arkansas coast beyond, with its mighty sweep of unbroken forest that
+rose out of the river mists and blended with the gray distance that lay
+along the horizon.
+
+He was within two miles of Thicket Point when, passing about a sudden
+turn in the road, he found himself confronted by three men, and before
+he could gather up his reins which he held loosely, one of them had
+seized his horse by the bit. Norton was unarmed, he had not even a
+riding-whip. This being the case he prepared to make the best of an
+unpleasant situation which he felt he could not alter. He ran his eye
+over the three men.
+
+“I am sorry, gentlemen, but I reckon you have hold of the wrong
+person--”
+
+“Get down!” said one of the men briefly.
+
+“I haven't any money, that's why I say you have hold of the wrong
+person.”
+
+“We don't want your money.” The unexpectedness of this reply somewhat
+disturbed Norton.
+
+“What do you want, then?” he asked.
+
+“We got a word to say to you.”
+
+“I can hear it in the saddle.”
+
+“Get down!” repeated the man, a surly, bull-necked fellow. “Come--hurry
+up!” he added.
+
+Norton hesitated for an instant, then swung himself out of the saddle
+and stood in the road confronting the spokesman of the party.
+
+“Now, what do you wish to say to me?” he asked.
+
+“Just this--you keep away from Belle Plain.”
+
+“You go to hell!” said Norton promptly. The man glowered heavily at hire
+through the gathering gloom of twilight.
+
+“We want your word that you'll keep away from Belle Plain,” he said with
+sullen insistence.
+
+“Well, you won't get it!” responded Norton with quiet decision.
+
+“We won't?”
+
+“Certainly you won't!” Norton's eyes began to flash. He wondered
+if these were Tom Ware's emissaries. He was both quick-tempered and
+high-spirited. Falling back a step, he sprang forward and dealt the
+bullnecked man a savage blow. The latter grunted heavily but kept his
+feet. In the same instant one of the men who had never taken his eyes
+off Norton from the moment he quitted the saddle, raised his fist and
+struck the young planter in the back of the neck.
+
+“You cur!” cried Norton, blind and dizzy, as he wheeled on him.
+
+“Damn him--let him have it!” roared the bullnecked man.
+
+Afterward Norton was able to remember that the three rushed on him,
+that he was knocked down and kicked with merciless brutality, then
+consciousness left him. He lay very still in the trampled dust of the
+road. The bull-necked man regarded the limp figure in grim silence for a
+moment.
+
+“That'll do, he's had enough; we ain't to kill him this time,” he said.
+An instant later he, with his two companions, had vanished silently into
+the woods.
+
+Norton's horse trotted down the road. When it entered the yard at
+Thicket Point half an hour later, Carrington was on the porch.
+
+“Is that you, Norton?” he called, but there was no response, and he saw
+the horse was riderless. “Jeff!” he cried, summoning Norton's servant
+from the house.
+
+“What's the matter, Mas'r?” asked the negro, as he appeared in the open
+door.
+
+“Why, here's Mr. Norton's horse come home without him. Do you know where
+he went this afternoon?”
+
+“I heard him say he reckoned he'd ride over to Belle Plain, Mas'r,”
+ answered Jeff, grinning. “I 'low the hoss done broke away and come home
+by himself--he couldn't a-throwed Mas'r Charley!”
+
+“We'll make sure of that. Get lanterns, and a couple of the boys!” said
+Carrington.
+
+It was mid-afternoon of the day following before Betty heard of the
+attack on Charley Norton. Tom brought the news, and she at once ordered
+her horse saddled and was soon out on the river road with a black groom
+trailing along through the dust in her wake. Tom's version of the attack
+was that Charley, had been robbed and all but murdered, and Betty never
+drew rein until she reached Thicket Point. As she galloped into the yard
+Bruce Carrington came from the house. At sight of the girl, with her
+wind-blown halo of bright hair, he paused uncertainly. By a gesture
+Betty called him to her side.
+
+“How is Mr. Norton?” she asked, extending her hand.
+
+“The doctor says he'll be up and about inside of a week, anyhow, Miss
+Malroy,” said Carrington.
+
+Betty gave a great sigh of relief.
+
+“Then his hurts are not serious?”
+
+“No,” said Carrington, “they are not in any sense serious.”
+
+“May I see him?”
+
+“He's pretty well bandaged up, so he looks worse off than he is. If
+you'll wait on the porch, I'll tell him you are here,” for Betty had
+dismounted.
+
+“If you please.”
+
+Carrington passed on into the house. His face wore a look of somber
+repression. Of course it was all right for her to come and see
+Norton--they were old, old friends. He entered the room where Norton
+lay.
+
+“Miss Malroy is here,” he said shortly.
+
+“Betty?--bless her dear heart!” cried Charley rather weakly. “Just
+toss my clothes into the closet and draw up a chair... There-thank
+you, Bruce, that will do--let her come along in now.” And as Carrington
+quitted the room, Norton drew himself up on the pillows and faced the
+door. “This is worth several beatings, Betty!” he exclaimed as she
+appeared on the threshold. But much cotton and many bandages lent him
+a rather fearful aspect, and Betty paused with a little gasp of dismay.
+“I'm lots better than I look, I expect,” said Norton. “Couldn't you
+arrange to come a little closer?” he added, laughing.
+
+He bent to kiss the hand she gave him, but groaned with the exertion.
+Then he looked up into her face and saw her eyes swimming with tears.
+
+“What--tears? Tears for me, Betty?” and he was much moved.
+
+“It's a perfect outrage! Who did it, Charley?” she asked.
+
+“You sit down and I'll tell you all about it,” said Norton happily.
+
+“Now tell me, Charley!” when she had seated herself.
+
+“Who fetched you, Betty--old Tom?”
+
+“No, I came alone.”
+
+“Well, it's mighty kind of you. I'll be all right in a day or so. What
+did you hear?--that I'd been attacked and half-killed?”
+
+“Yes--and robbed.”
+
+“There were three of the scoundrels. They made me climb out of the
+saddle, and as I was unarmed they did as they pleased with me, which was
+to stamp me flat in the road--”
+
+“Charley!”
+
+“I might almost be inclined to think they were friends of yours,
+Betty--or at least friends of friends of yours.”
+
+“What do you mean, Charley--friends of mine?”
+
+“Well, you see they started in by stipulating that I should keep away
+from Belle Plain, and the terms they proposed being on the face of them
+preposterous, trouble quickly ensued--trouble for me, you understand.
+But never mind, dear, the next man who undertakes to grab my horse by
+the bit won't get off quite so easy.”
+
+“Why should any one care whether you come to Belle Plain or not?”
+
+“I wonder if my amiable friend, Tom, could have arranged this little
+affair; it's sort of like old Tom to move in the dark, isn't it?”
+
+“He couldn't--he wouldn't have done it, Charley!” but she looked
+troubled, not too sure of this.
+
+“Couldn't he? Well, maybe he couldn't--but he's afraid you'll marry
+me--and I'm only afraid you won't. Betty, hasn't it ever seemed worth
+your while to marry me just to give old Tom the scare of his life?”
+
+“Please, Charley--” she began.
+
+“I'm in a dreadful state of mind when I think of you alone at Belle
+Plain--I wish you could love me, Betty!”
+
+“I do love you. There is no one I care half so much for, Charley.”
+
+Norton shook his bandaged head and heaved a prodigious sigh.
+
+“That's merely saying you don't love any one.” He dropped back rather
+wearily on his pillow. “Does Tom know about this?” he added.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Was he able to show a proper amount of surprise?”
+
+“He appeared really shocked, Charley.”
+
+“Well, then, it wasn't Tom. He never shows much emotion, but what he
+does show he usually feels, I've noticed. I had rather hoped it was Tom,
+I'd be glad to think that he was responsible; for if it wasn't Tom, who
+was it?--who is it to whom it makes any difference how often I see you?”
+
+“I don't know, Charley;” but her voice was uncertain.
+
+“Look here, Betty; for the hundredth time, won't you marry me? I've
+loved you ever since I was old enough to know what love meant. You've
+been awfully sweet and patient with me, and I've tried to respect your
+wishes and not speak of this except when it seemed necessary--” he
+paused, and they both laughed a little, but he looked weak and helpless
+with his bloodless face showing between the gaps in the bandages that
+swathed him. Perhaps it was this sense of his helplessness that roused a
+feeling in Betty that was new to her.
+
+“You see, Charley, I fear--I am sure I don't love you the way I
+should--to marry you--”
+
+Charley, greatly excited, groaned and sat up, and groaned again.
+
+“Oh, please, Charley-lie still!” she entreated.
+
+“That's all right--and you needn't pull your hand away--you like me
+better than any one else, you've told me so; well, don't you see that's
+the beginning of really loving me?”
+
+“But you wouldn't want to marry me at once?”
+
+“Yes I would--right away--as soon as I am able to stir around!” said
+Charley promptly. “Don't you see the immediate necessity there is of my
+being in a position to care for you, Betty? I wasn't served this trick
+for nothing.”
+
+“You must try not to worry, Charley.”
+
+“But I shall--I expect it's going to retard my recovery,” said the young
+man gloomily. “I couldn't be worse off! Here I am flat on my back;
+I can't come to you or keep watch over you. Let me have some hope,
+dear--let me believe that you will marry me!”
+
+She looked at him pityingly, and with a certain latent tenderness in her
+mood.
+
+“Do you really care so much for me, Charley?”
+
+“I love you, Betty!--I want you to say you will marry me as soon as I
+can stand by your side--you're not going?--I won't speak of this again
+if it annoys you, dear!” for she had risen.
+
+“I must, Charley--”
+
+“Oh, don't--well, then, if you will go, I want Carrington to ride back
+with you.”
+
+“But I brought George with me--”
+
+“Yes, I know, but I want you to take Carrington--the Lord knows what we
+are coming to here in West Tennessee; I must have word that you reach
+home safe.”
+
+“Very well, then, I'll ask Mr. Carrington. Good-by, Charley, dear!”
+
+Norton seemed to summon all his fortitude.
+
+“You couldn't have done a kinder thing than come here, Betty; I can't
+begin to tell you how grateful I am--and as for my loving you--why, I'll
+just keep on doing that to the end. I can see myself a bent, old man
+still pestering you with my attentions, and you a sweet, old lady with
+snow-white hair and pink cheeks, still obdurate--still saying no! Oh,
+Lord, isn't it awful!” He had lifted himself on his elbow, and now sank
+back on his pillow.
+
+Betty paused irresolutely.
+
+“Charley--”
+
+“Yes, dear?”
+
+“Can't you be happy without me?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“But you don't try to be!”
+
+“No use in my making any such foolish effort, I'd be doomed to failure.”
+
+“Good-by, Charley--I really must go--”
+
+He looked up yearningly into her face, and yielding to a sudden impulse,
+she stooped and kissed him on the forehead, then she fled from the room.
+
+“Oh, come back--Betty--” cried Norton, and his voice rose to a wail of
+entreaty, but she was gone. She had been quite as much surprised by her
+act as Charley himself.
+
+In the yard, Carrington was waiting for her. Jeff had just brought up
+Norton's horse, and though he made no display of weapons, the Kentuckian
+had fully armed himself.
+
+“I am going to ride to Belle Plain with you, Miss Malroy,” he said, as
+he lifted her into her saddle.
+
+“Do you think it necessary?” she asked, but she did not look at him.
+
+“I hope not. I'll keep a bit in advance,” he added, as he mounted his
+horse, and all Betty saw of him during their ride of five miles was his
+broad back. At the entrance to Belle Plain he reined in his horse.
+
+“I reckon it's all right, now,” he said briefly.
+
+“You will return at once to Mr. Norton?” she asked. He nodded. “And you
+will not leave him while he is helpless?”
+
+“No, I'll not leave him,” said Carrington, giving her a steady glance.
+
+“I am so glad, I--his friends will feel so much safer with you there. I
+will send over in the morning to learn how he passed the night. Good-by,
+Mr. Carrington.” And still refusing to meet his eyes, she gave him her
+hand.
+
+But Carrington did not quit the mouth of the lane until she had crossed
+between the great fields of waving corn, and he had seen her pass up
+the hillside beyond to the oak grove, where the four massive chimneys
+of Belle Plain house showed their gray stone copings among the foliage.
+With this last glimpse of her he turned away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. THICKET POINT
+
+
+It WAS a point with Mr. Ware to see just as little as possible of Betty.
+He had no taste for what he called female chatter. A sane interest in
+the price of cotton or pork he considered the only rational test of
+human intelligence, and Betty evinced entire indifference where those
+great staples were concerned, hence it was agreeable to him to have most
+of his meals served in his office.
+
+At first Betty had sought to adapt herself to his somewhat peculiar
+scheme of life, but Tom had begged her not to regard him, his movements
+from hour to hour were cloaked in uncertainty. The man who had to
+overlook the labor of eighty or ninety field hands was the worst sort of
+a slave himself; the niggers knew when they could sit down to a meal; he
+never did.
+
+But for all his avoidance of Betty, he in reality kept the closest kind
+of a watch on her movements, and when he learned that she had visited
+Charley Norton--George, the groom, was the channel through which this
+information reached him--he was both scandalized and disturbed. He felt
+the situation demanded some sort of a protest.
+
+“Isn't it just hell the way a woman can worry you?” he lamented, as
+he hurried up the path from the barns to the house. He found Betty at
+supper.
+
+“I thought I'd have a cup of tea with you, Bet--what else have you
+that's good?” he inquired genially, as he dropped into a chair.
+
+“That was nice of you; we don't see very much of each other, do we,
+Tom?” said Betty pleasantly.
+
+Mr. Ware twisted his features, on which middle age had rested an
+untender hand, into a smile.
+
+“When a man undertakes to manage a place like Belle Plain his work's
+laid out for him, Betty, and an old fellow like me is pretty apt to go
+one of two ways; either he takes to hard living to keep himself in trim,
+or he pampers himself soft.”
+
+“But you aren't old, Tom!”
+
+“I wish I were sure of seeing forty-five or even forty-eight again--but
+I'm not,” said Tom.
+
+“But that isn't really old,” objected Betty.
+
+“Well, that's old enough, Bet, as you'll discover for yourself one of
+these days.”
+
+“Mercy, Tom!” cried Betty.
+
+Mr. Ware consumed a cup of tea in silence.
+
+“You were over to see Norton, weren't you, Bet? How did you find him?”
+ he asked abruptly.
+
+“The doctor says he will soon be about again,” answered Betty.
+
+Tom stroked his chin and gazed at her reflectively.
+
+“Betty, I wish you wouldn't go there again--that's a good girl!” he said
+tactfully, and as he conceived it, affectionately, even, paving the way
+for an exercise of whatever influence might be his, a point on which he
+had no very clear idea. Betty glanced up quickly.
+
+“Why, Tom, why shouldn't I go there?” she demanded.
+
+“It might set people gossiping. I reckon there's been pretty near enough
+talk about you and Charley Norton. A young girl can't be too careful.”
+ The planter's tone was conciliatory in the extreme, he dared not risk a
+break by any open show of authority.
+
+“You needn't distress yourself, Tom. I don't know that I shall go there
+again,” said Betty indifferently.
+
+“I wouldn't if I were you.” He was charmed to find her so reasonable.
+“You know it isn't the thing for a young girl to call on a man, you'll
+get yourself talked about in a way you won't like--take my word for it!
+If you want to be kind and neighborly send one of the boys over to ask
+how he is--or bake a cake with your own hands, but you keep away. That's
+the idea!--send him something to eat, something you've made yourself,
+he'll appreciate that.”
+
+“I'm afraid he couldn't eat it if I did, Tom. It's plain you have no
+acquaintance with my cooking,” said Betty, laughing.
+
+“Did Norton say if he had any idea as to the identity of the men who
+robbed him?” inquired Tom casually.
+
+“Their object wasn't robbery,” said Betty.
+
+“No?” Ware's glance was uneasy.
+
+“It seems that some one objects to his coming here, Tom--here to
+Belle Plain to see me, I suppose,” added Betty. The planter moved
+uncomfortably in his seat, refusing to meet her eyes.
+
+“He shouldn't put out a yarn like that, Bet. It isn't just the thing for
+a gentleman to do--”
+
+“He isn't putting it out, as you call it! He has told no one, so far as
+I know,” said Betty quickly. Mr. Ware fell into a brooding silence.
+“Of course, Charley wouldn't mention my name in any such connection!”
+ continued Betty.
+
+“Who cares how often he comes here? You don't, and I don't. There's more
+back of this than Charley would want you to know. I reckon he's got
+his enemies; some one's had a grudge against him and taken this way
+to settle it.” The planter's tone and manner were charged with an
+unpleasant significance.
+
+“I don't like your hints, Tom,” said Betty. Her heightened color and the
+light in her eyes warned Tom that he had said enough. In some haste he
+finished his second cup of tea, a beverage which he despised, and after
+a desultory remark or two, withdrew to his office.
+
+Betty went up-stairs to her own room, where she tried to finish a letter
+she had begun the day before to Judith Ferris, but she was in no mood
+for this. She was owning to a sense of utter depression and she had been
+at home less than a month. Struggle as she might against the feeling,
+it was borne in upon her that she was wretchedly lonely. She had seated
+herself by an open window. Now, resting her elbows on the ledge and with
+her chin between her palms, she gazed off into the still night. A mile
+distant, on what was called “Shanty Hill,” were the quarters of the
+slaves. The only lights she saw were there, the only sounds she heard
+reached her across the intervening fields. This was her world. A
+half-savage world with its uncouth army of black dependents.
+
+Tom's words still rankled. Betty's temper flared up belligerently as she
+recalled them. He had evidently meant to insinuate that Charley had lied
+outright when he told her the motive for the attack, and he had followed
+it up by that covert slur on his character. Charley's devotion was the
+thing that redeemed the dull monotony of existence. She became suddenly
+humble and tenderly penitent in her mood toward him; he loved her much
+better than she deserved, and she suspected that her own attitude had
+been habitually ungenerous and selfish. She had accepted all and yielded
+nothing. She wondered gravely why it was she did not love him; she was
+fond of him--she was very, very fond of him; she wondered if after all,
+as he said, this were not the beginning of love, the beginning of that
+deeper feeling which she was not sure she understood, not sure she
+should ever experience.
+
+The thought of Charley's unwavering affection gave her a great sense of
+peace; it was something to have inspired such devotion, she could
+never be quite desperate while she had him. She must try to make him
+understand how possible an ideal friendship was between them, how
+utterly impossible anything else. She would like to have seen Charley
+happily married to some nice girl--“I wonder whom!” thought Betty,
+gazing deep into the night through her drooping lashes. She considered
+possible candidates for the happiness she herself seemed so willing to
+forego, but for one reason or another dismissed them all. “I am not sure
+I should care to see him marry,” she confessed under her breath. “It
+would spoil everything. Men are much nicer than girls!” And Charley
+possessed distinguished merits as a man; he was not to be too hastily
+disposed of, even for his own good. She viewed him in his various
+aspects, his character and disposition came under her critical survey.
+Nature had given the young planter a handsome presence; wealth and
+position had come to him as fortuitously. The first of these was no
+great matter, perhaps; Betty herself was sometimes burdened with a sense
+of possession, but family was indispensable.
+
+In theory, at least, she was a thoroughgoing little aristocrat. A
+gentleman was always a gentleman. There were exceptions, like Tom, to
+be sure, but even Tom could have reached up and seized the title had he
+coveted it. She rarely forgot that she was the mistress of Belle Plain
+and a Malroy. Just wherein a Malroy differed from the rest of the sons
+of men she had never paused to consider, it sufficed that there was a
+hazy Malroy genealogy that went back to tidewater Virginia, and then
+if one were not meanly curious, and would skip a generation or two that
+could not be accounted for in ways any Malroy would accept, one might
+triumphantly follow the family to a red-roofed Sussex manor house.
+Altogether, it was a highly satisfactory genealogy and it had Betty's
+entire faith. The Nortons were every bit as good as the Malroys, which
+was saying a great deal. Their history was quite as pretentious, quite
+as vague, and as hopelessly involved in the mists of tradition.
+
+Inexplicably enough, Betty found that her thoughts had wandered to
+Carrington; which was very singular, as she had long since formed
+a resolution not to think of him at all. Yet she remembered with
+satisfaction his manner that afternoon, it left nothing to be desired.
+He was probably understanding the impassable gulf that separated
+them--education, experience, feeling, everything that made up the
+substance of life but deepened and widened this gulf. He belonged
+to that shifting, adventurous population which was far beneath the
+slave-holding aristocracy, at least he more nearly belonged to this
+lower order than to any other. She fixed his status relentlessly as
+something to be remembered when they should meet again. At last, with
+a little puckering of the brows and a firm contraction of the lips, she
+dismissed the Kentuckian from her thoughts.
+
+
+Betty complied with Tom's expressed wish, for she did not again visit
+Thicket Point, but then she had not intended doing so. However, the
+planter was greatly shocked by the discovery he presently made that she
+was engaged in a vigorous correspondence with Charley.
+
+“I wish to blazes Murrell had told those fellows to kick the life clean
+out of him while they were about it!” he commented savagely, and fell
+to cursing impotently. Brute force was a factor to be introduced with
+caution into the affairs of life, but if you were going to use it,
+his belief was that you should use it to the limit. You couldn't
+scare Norton, he was in love with that pink-faced little fool. Keep
+away?--he'd never think of it, he'd stuff his pockets full of pistols
+and the next man who stopped him on the road would better look out! It
+made him sick--the utter lack of sense manifested by Murrell, and his
+talk, whenever they met, was still of the girl. He couldn't see anything
+so damn uncommon about that red-and-white chit. She wasn't worth running
+your neck into a halter for--no woman that ever lived was worth that.
+
+The correspondence, so far as Betty was responsible for it, bore just on
+one point. She wanted Charley to promise that for a time, at least, he
+would not attempt to see her. It seemed such a needless risk to take,
+couldn't he be satisfied if he heard from her every day?
+
+Charley was regretful, but firm. Just as soon as he could mount his
+horse he would ride down to Belle Plain. She was not to distress herself
+on his account; he had been surprised, but this should not happen again.
+
+The calm manner in which he put aside her fears for his safety
+exasperated Betty beyond measure. She scolded him vigorously. Charley
+accepted the scolding with humility, but his resolution was unshaken;
+he did not propose to vacate the public roads at any man's behest; that
+would be an unwise precedent to establish.
+
+Betty replied that this was not a matter in which silly vanity should
+enter, even if his life was of no value to himself it did not follow
+that she held it lightly. It required some eight closely written pages
+for Charley to explain why existence would be an unsupportable burden if
+he were denied the sight of her.
+
+A week had intervened since the attack, and from Jeff, who always
+brought Charley's letters, Betty learned more of Charley's condition
+than Charley himself had seen fit to tell. According to Jeff his master
+was now able to get around pretty tolerable well, though he had a
+powerful keen misery in his side.
+
+“That was whar' they done kicked him most, Miss,” he added. Betty
+shuddered.
+
+“How much longer will he be confined to the house?” she asked.
+
+“I heard him 'low to Mas'r Carrington, Miss, as how he reckoned he'd
+take a hossback ride to-morrow evenin' if the black and blue was all
+come out of his features--”
+
+“Oh--” gasped Betty.
+
+“Seems like they was mighty careless whar' they put their feet, don't
+it, Miss?” said Jeff.
+
+It was this information she gleaned from Jeff that led Betty to
+desperate lengths, to the making of what her cooler judgment told her
+was a desperate bargain.
+
+At Thicket Point Charley Norton, greatly excited, hobbled into the
+library in search of Carrington. He found him reading by the open
+window.
+
+“Look here, Bruce!” he cried. “It's settled; she's going to marry me!”
+
+The book slipped unheeded from Carrington's hand to the floor. For a
+moment he sat motionless, then he slowly pulled himself up out of his
+chair.
+
+“What's that?” he asked a trifle thickly.
+
+“Betty Malroy is going to marry me,” said Norton. Carrington gazed at
+him in silence.
+
+“It's settled, is it?” he asked at length. He saw his own hopes go down
+in miserable wreck; they had been utterly futile from the first. He had
+known all along that Norton loved her, the young planter had made no
+secret of it. He had been less frank.
+
+“I swear you take it quietly enough,” said Norton.
+
+“Do I?”
+
+“Can't you wish me joy?”
+
+Carrington held out his hand.
+
+“You are not going to take any risks now, you have too much to live
+for,” he said haltingly.
+
+“No, I'm to keep away from Belle Plain,” said Norton happily. “She
+insists on that; she says she won't even see me if I come there.
+Everything is to be kept a secret; nothing's to be known until we are
+actually married; it's her wish--”
+
+“It's to be soon then?” Carrington asked, still haltingly.
+
+“Very soon.”
+
+There was a brief silence. Carrington, with face averted, looked from
+the window.
+
+“I am going to stay here as long as you need me,” he presently said.
+“She--Miss Malroy asked me to, and then I am going back to the river
+where I belong.”
+
+Norton turned on him quickly.
+
+“You don't mean you've abandoned the notion of turning planter?” he
+demanded in surprise.
+
+“Well, yes. What's the use of my trying my hand at a business I don't
+know the first thing about?”
+
+“I wouldn't be in too big a hurry to decide finally on that point,”
+ urged Norton.
+
+“It has decided itself,” said Carrington quietly.
+
+But Norton was conscious of a subtle change in their relation.
+Carrington seemed a shade less frank than had been habitual with
+him; all at once he had removed his private affairs from the field of
+discussion. Afterward, when Norton considered the matter, he wondered
+if it were not that the Kentuckian felt himself superfluous in this new
+situation that had grown up.
+
+Charley Norton's features recovered their accustomed hue, but he did not
+go near Belle Plain; with resolute fortitude he confined himself to
+his own acres. He was tolerably familiar with certain engaging little
+peculiarities of Mr. Ware's; he knew, for instance, that the latter was
+a gentleman of excessively regular habits; once each fortnight, making
+an excuse of business, he spent a day in Memphis, neither more nor less.
+Norton told himself with satisfaction that Tom was destined to return to
+the surprise of his life from the next of these trips. This conviction
+was the one thing which sustained Charley for some ten days. They were
+altogether the longest ten days he had ever known, and he had about
+reached the limit of his endurance when Betty's groom arrived with
+a letter which threw him into a state of ecstatic happiness. The
+sober-minded Tom would devote the morrow to Memphis and business.
+This meant that he would leave Belle Plain at sun-up and return after
+nightfall.
+
+“You may not like Tom, but you can always count on him,” said Norton.
+Then he ordered his horse and rode off in the direction of Raleigh,
+but before leaving the house, he scribbled a line or two to be handed
+Carrington, who had gone down to the nearest river landing.
+
+It was nightfall when the Kentuckian returned, Hearing his step in the
+hall, Jeff came from the dining-room, where he was laying the cloth for
+supper.
+
+“Mas'r Charley has rid to Raleigh, Sah,” said he; “but he done lef' this
+fo' me to han' to yo”--extending the letter.
+
+Carrington took it. He guessed its contents. Breaking the seal he read
+the half dozen lines.
+
+“To-morrow--” he muttered under his breath, and slowly tore the sheet of
+note-paper into thin ribbons. He turned to Jeff. “Mr. Charley won't be
+home until late,” he said.
+
+“Then I 'low yo' want yo' supper now, Sar?” But Carrington shook his
+head.
+
+“No, you needn't bother, Jeff,” he said, as he turned toward the stairs.
+
+Ten minutes later and he had got together his belongings and was ready
+to quit Thicket Point. He retraced his steps to the floor below. In
+the hall he paused and glanced about him. He seemed to feel her
+presence--and very near--to-morrow she would enter there as Norton's
+wife. With his pack under his arm he entered the dining-room in search
+of Jeff.
+
+“Tell your master I have gone to Memphis,” he said briefly.
+
+“Ain't yo' goin' to have a hoss, Mas'r Carrington?” demanded Jeff in
+some surprise. He had come to regard the Kentuckian as a fixture.
+
+“No,” said Carrington. “Good-by, Jeff,” he added, turning away.
+
+But when he left Thicket Point he did not take the Memphis road, but
+the road to Belle Plain. Walking rapidly, he reached the entrance to
+the lane within the hour. Here he paused irresolutely, it was as if the
+force of his purpose had already spent itself. Then he tossed his pack
+into a fence corner and kept on toward the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. AT THE CHURCH DOOR
+
+
+There was the patter of small feet beyond Betty's door, and little
+Steve, who looked more like a nice fat black Cupid than anything else,
+rapped softly; at the same time he effected to squint through the
+keyhole.
+
+“Supper served, Missy,” he announced, then he turned no less than seven
+handsprings in the upper hall and slid down the balustrade to the floor
+below. He was far from being a model house servant.
+
+His descent was witnessed by the butler. Now in his own youth big Steve
+with as fair a field had cut similar capers, yet he was impelled by his
+sense of duty to do for his grandson what his own father had so often
+done for him, and in no perfunctory manner. It was only the sound of
+Betty's door opening and closing that stayed his hand as he was making
+choice of a soft and vulnerable spot to which he should apply it. Little
+Steve slid under the outstretched arm that menaced him and fled to the
+dining-room.
+
+Betty came slowly down the stairs. Four hours since Jeff had ridden away
+with the letter. Already there had come to her moments when, she would
+have given much could she have recalled it, when she knew with dread
+certainty that whatever her feeling for Charley, it was not love;
+moments when she realized that she had been cruelly driven by
+circumstances into a situation that offered no escape.
+
+“Mas'r Tom he say he won't come in to supper, Missy; he 'low he's
+powerful busy, gittin' ready to go to Memphis in the mo'ning,” explained
+Steve, as he followed Betty into the dining-room.
+
+His mistress nodded indifferently as she seated herself at the table;
+she was glad to be alone just then; she was in no mood to carry on the
+usual sluggish conversation with Tom; her own thoughts absorbed her more
+and more they became terrifying things to her.
+
+She ate her supper with big Steve standing behind her chair and little
+Steve balancing himself first on one foot and then on the other near the
+door. Little Steve's head was on a level with the chair rail and but
+for the rolling whites of his eyes he was no more than a black shadow
+against the walnut wainscoting; he formed the connecting link between
+the dining-room and the remote kitchen. Betty suspected that most of the
+platters journeyed down the long corridor deftly perched on top of his
+woolly head. She frequently detected him with greasy or sticky fingers,
+which while it argued a serious breach of trust also served to indicate
+his favorite dishes. These two servitors were aware that their mistress
+was laboring under some unusual stress of emotion. In its presence big
+Steven, who, with the slightest encouragement, became a medium through
+which the odds and ends of plantation gossip reached Betty's ears, held
+himself to silence; while little Steve ceased to shift his weight from
+foot to foot, the very dearth of speech fixed his attention.
+
+The long French windows, their curtains drawn, stood open. All day a hot
+September sun had beaten upon the earth, but with the fall of twilight
+a soft wind had sprung up and the candles in their sconces flared at
+its touch. It came out of wide solitudes laden with the familiar night
+sounds. It gave Betty a sense of vast unused spaces, of Belle Plain
+clinging on the edge of an engulfing wilderness, of her own loneliness.
+She needed Charley as much as he seemed to think he needed her. The life
+she had been living had become suddenly impossible of continuance; that
+it had ever been possible was because of Charley; she knew this now as
+she had never known it before.
+
+Her thoughts dealt with the past. In her one great grief, her mother's
+death, it had been Charley who had sustained and comforted her. She was
+conscious of a choking sense of gratitude as she recalled his patient
+tenderness at that time, the sympathy and understanding he had shown; it
+was something never to be forgotten.
+
+Unrest presently sent her from the house. She wandered down to the
+terrace. Before her was the wide sweep of the swampy fore-shore, and
+beyond just beginning to silver in the moonlight, the bend of the river
+growing out of the black void. With her eyes on the river and her hands
+clasped loosely she watched the distant line of the Arkansas coast
+grow up against the sky; she realized that the moon was rising on Betty
+Malroy for the last time.
+
+She liked Charley; she needed some one to take care of her and her
+belongings, and he needed her. It was best for them both that she should
+marry him. True she might have gone back to Judith Ferris; that would
+have been one solution of her difficulties. Why hadn't she thought of
+doing this before? Of course, Charley would have followed her East.
+Charley met the ordinary duties and responsibilities of his position
+somewhat recklessly; it was only where she was concerned that he became
+patiently determined.
+
+“I suppose the end would have been the same there as here,” thought
+Betty.
+
+A moment later she found herself wondering if Charley had told
+Carrington yet; certainly the Kentuckian would not remain at Thicket
+Point when he knew. She was sure she wished him to leave not Thicket
+Point merely, but the neighborhood. She did not wish to see him
+again--not see him again--not see him again--She found herself repeating
+the words over and over; they shaped themselves into a dreadful refrain.
+A nameless terror of the future swept in upon her. She was cold and
+sick. It was as though an icy hand was laid upon her heart. The words
+ran on in endless repetition--not see him again--they held the very soul
+of tragedy for her, yet she was roused to passionate protest. She
+must not think of him, he was nothing to her. She was to be married to
+another man, even now she was almost a wife--but battle as she might the
+struggle went on.
+
+There was the sound of a step on the path. Betty turned, supposing it to
+be Tom; but it was not Tom, it was Carrington himself who stood before
+her, his face haggard and drawn. She uttered an involuntary exclamation
+and shrank away from him. Without a word he stepped to her side and took
+her hands rather roughly.
+
+For a moment there was silence between them, Betty stared up into his
+face with wide scared eyes, while he gazed down at her as if he would
+fasten something on his mind that must never be forgotten. Suddenly
+he lifted her soft cold hands to his lips and kissed them passionately
+again and again; then he held them in his own against his cheek, his
+glance still fixed intently upon her; it held something of bitterness
+and reproach, but now she kept her eyes under their quivering lids from
+him.
+
+“What am I to do without you?”--his voice was almost a whisper. “What is
+this thing you have done?” Betty's heart was beating with dull sickening
+throbs, but she dared not trust herself to answer him. He took both her
+hands in one of his, and, slipping the other under her chin, raised her
+face so that he could look into her eyes; then he put his arm loosely
+about her, holding her hands against his breast. “If I could have had
+one moment out of all the years for my own--only one. I am glad you
+don't care, dear; it hurts when you reach the end of something that has
+been all your hope and filled all your days. I have come to say good-by,
+Betty; this is the last time I shall see you. I am going away.”
+
+All in an instant Betty pressed close to him, hiding her face in his
+arm; she clung to him in a panic of pain and horror. She felt something
+stir within her that had never been there before, as a storm of
+passionate longing swept through her. Her words, her promise to another
+man, became as nothing. All her pride was forgotten. Without this man
+the days stretched away before her a blank. His arm drew her closer
+still, until she felt her heart throb against his.
+
+“Do you care?” he said, and seemed to wonder that she should.
+
+“Bruce, Bruce, I didn't know--and now--Oh, my dear, my dear--” He
+pressed his lips against the bright little head that rested in such
+miserable abandon against his shoulder.
+
+“Do you love me?” he whispered. The blood ran riot in his veins.
+
+“Why have you stayed away--why didn't you come to me? I have promised
+him--” she gasped.
+
+“I know,” he said, and shut his lips. There was another silence while
+she waited for him to speak. She felt that she was at his mercy, that
+whether right or wrong, as he decided so it would be. At length he said.
+“I thought it wasn't fair to him, and it seemed so hopeless after I came
+here. I had nothing--and a man feels that--so I kept away.” He spoke
+awkwardly with something of the reserve that was habitual to him.
+
+“If you had only come!” she moaned.
+
+“I did--once,” he muttered.
+
+“You didn't understand; why did you believe anything I said to you? It
+was only that I cared--that in my heart I knew I cared--I've cared
+about you ever since that trip down the river, and now I am going to
+be married to-morrow--to-morrow, Bruce--do you realize I have given my
+promise? I am to meet him at the Spring Bank church at ten o'clock--and
+it's tomorrow!” she cried, in a laboring choked voice. For answer he
+drew her closer. “Bruce, what can I do?--tell me what I can do.”
+
+Carrington made an involuntary gesture of protest.
+
+“I can't tell you that, dear--for I don't know.” His voice was steady,
+but it came from lips that quivered. He knew that he might have urged
+the supreme claim of his love and in her present desperate mood she
+would have listened, but the memory of Norton would have been between
+them always a shame and reproach; as surely as he stood there with his
+arms about her, as surely as she clung to him so warm and near, he would
+have lived to see the shadow of that shame in her eyes.
+
+“I can not do it--I can not, Bruce!” she panted.
+
+“Dear--dear--don't tempt me!” He held himself in check.
+
+“I am going to tell you--just this once, Bruce--I love you--you are my own
+for this one moment out of my life!” and she abandoned herself to the
+passionate caressing with which he answered her. “How can I give you
+up?” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. He put her from him almost
+roughly, and leaning against the trunk of a tree buried his face in his
+hands. Betty watched him for a moment in wretched silence.
+
+“Don't feel so bad, Bruce,” she said brokenly. “I am not worth it. I
+tried not to love you--I didn't want to.” She raised a white face to
+his.
+
+“I am going now, Betty. You--you shouldn't stay here any longer with
+me.” He spoke with sudden resolution.
+
+“And I shall not see you again?” she asked, in a low, stifled voice.
+
+“It's good-by--” he muttered.
+
+“Not yet--oh, not yet, Bruce--” she implored. “I can not--”
+
+“Yes--now, dear. I don't dare stay--I may forget--” but he turned again
+to her in entreaty. “Give me something to remember in all the years
+that are coming when I shall be alone--let me kiss you on the lips--let
+me--just this once--it's good-by we're saying--it's good-by, Betty!”
+
+She went to him, and, as he bent above her, slipped her arms about his
+neck.
+
+“Kiss me--” she breathed.
+
+He kissed her hair, her soft cheek, then their lips met.
+
+He helped her as she stumbled blindly along the path to the house,
+and half lifted her up the steps to the door. They paused there for a
+moment. At last he turned from her abruptly in silence. A step away he
+halted.
+
+“If you should ever need me--” “Never as now,” she said.
+
+She saw his tall figure pass down the path, and her straining eyes
+followed until it was lost in the mild wide spaces of the night.
+
+
+Another hot September sun was beating upon the earth as Betty galloped
+down the lane and swung her horse's head in the direction of Raleigh.
+Her grief had worn itself out and she carried a pale but resolute face.
+Carrington was gone; she would keep her promise to Charley and he should
+never know what his happiness had cost her. She nerved herself for their
+meeting; somewhere between Belle Plain and Thicket Point Norton would be
+waiting for her.
+
+He joined her before she had covered a third of the distance that
+separated the two plantations.
+
+“Thank God, my darling!” he cried fervently, as he ranged up alongside
+of her.
+
+“Then you weren't sure of me, Charley?”
+
+“No, I wasn't sure, Betty--but I hoped. I have been haunting the road
+for more than an hour. You are making one poor unworthy devil happy,
+unless--”
+
+“Unless what, Charley?” she prompted.
+
+“Unless you came here merely to tell me that after all you couldn't
+marry me.” He put out his hand and covered hers that held the reins.
+“I'll never give you cause to regret it--you know how I love you, dear?”
+
+“Yes, Charley--I know.” She met his glance bravely.
+
+“We are to go to the church. Mr. Bowen will be there; I arranged with
+him last night; he will drive over with his wife and daughter, who will
+be our witnesses, dear. We could have gone to his house, but I thought
+it would seem more like a real wedding in a church, you know.”
+
+Betty did not answer him, her eyes were fixed straight ahead, the last
+vestige of color had faded from her face and a deathly pallor was there.
+This was the crowning horror. She felt the terrible injustice she was
+doing the man at her side, the depth and sincerity of his devotion was
+something for which she could make no return. Her lips trembled on the
+verge of an avowal of her love for Carrington. Presently she saw the
+church in its grove of oaks, in the shade of one of these stood Mr.
+Bowen's horse and buggy.
+
+“We won't have to wait on him!” said Norton.
+
+“No--” Betty gasped out the monosyllable.
+
+“Why--my darling--what's the matter?” he asked tenderly, his glance bent
+in concern on the frightened face of the girl.
+
+“Nothing--nothing, Charley.”
+
+They had reined in their horses. Norton sprang to the ground and lifted
+her from the saddle.
+
+“It will only take a moment, dear!” he whispered encouragingly in the
+brief instant he held her in his arms.
+
+“Oh, Charley, it isn't that--it's dreadfully serious--” she said, with a
+wild little laugh that was almost hysterical.
+
+“I wouldn't have it less than that,” he said gravely.
+
+
+Afterward Betty could remember standing before the church in the fierce
+morning light; she heard Mr. Bowen's voice, she heard Charley's voice,
+she heard another voice--her own, though she scarcely recognized it.
+Then, like one aroused from a dream, she looked about her--she met
+Charley's glance; his face was radiant and she smiled back at him
+through a sudden mist that swam before her eyes.
+
+Mr. Bowen led her toward the church door. As they neared it they caught
+the clatter of hoofs, and Tom Ware on a hard-ridden horse dashed up; he
+was covered with dust and inarticulate with rage. Then a cry came from
+him that was like the roar of some mortally wounded animal.
+
+“I forbid this marriage!” he shrieked, when he could command speech.
+
+“You're too late to stop it, Tom, but you can attend it,” said Norton
+composedly.
+
+“You--you--” Words failed the planter; he sat his horse the picture of a
+grim and sordid despair.
+
+Mr. Bowen divided a look of reproach between his wife and daughter; his
+own conscience was clear; he had told no one of the purpose of Norton's
+call the night before.
+
+“I'll tie the horses, Betty,” said Norton.
+
+Ware turned fiercely to Bowen.
+
+“You knew better than to be a party to this, and by God!--if you go on
+with it you shall live to regret it!”
+
+The minister made him no answer, he thoroughly disapproved of the
+planter. It was well that Betty should have a proper protector, this
+half-brother was hardly that measured by any standard.
+
+Norton, leading the horses, had reached the edge of the oaks when from
+the silent depths of the denser woods came the sharp report of a rifle.
+The shock of the bullet sent the young fellow staggering back among the
+mossy and myrtle-covered graves.
+
+For a moment no one grasped what had happened, only there was Norton who
+seemed to grope strangely among the graves. Black spots danced
+before his eyes, the little group by the church merged into the
+distance--always receding, always more remote, as he, stumbled
+helplessly over the moss and the thick dank myrtle and among the round
+graves that gave him a treacherous footing; and then he heard Betty's
+agonized cry. He had fallen now, and his strength went from him, but he
+kept his face turned on the group before the church in mute appeal, and
+even as the shadows deepened he was aware that Betty was coming swiftly
+toward him.
+
+“I'm shot--” he said, speaking with difficulty.
+
+“Charley--Charley--” she moaned, slipping her strong young arms about
+him and gathering him to her breast.
+
+He looked up into her face.
+
+“It's all over--” he said, but as much in wonder as in fear. “But I knew
+you would come to me--dear--” he added in a whisper. She felt a shudder
+pass through him. He did not speak again. His lips opened once, and
+closed on silence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. THE JUDGE OFFERS A REWARD
+
+
+The news of Charley Norton's murder spread quickly over the county. For
+two or three days bands of armed men scoured the woods and roads, and
+then this activity quite unproductive of any tangible results ceased,
+matters were allowed to rest with the constituted authorities, namely
+Mr. Betts the sheriff, and his deputies.
+
+No private citizen had shown greater zeal than Judge Slocum Price, no
+voice had clamored more eloquently for speedy justice than his. He had
+sustained a loss that was in a peculiar sense personal, he explained.
+Mr. Norton was his friend and client; they had much in common; their
+political ideals were in the strictest accord and he had entertained a
+most favorable opinion of the young man's abilities; he had urged him
+to enter the national arena and carve out a career for himself; he had
+promised him his support. The judge so worked upon his own feelings that
+presently any mention of Norton's name utterly unmanned him. Well, this
+was life. One could only claim time as it was doled out by clock ticks;
+we planned for the years and could not be certain of the moments.
+
+He spent two entire days at the church and in the surrounding woods, nor
+did any one describe the murder with the vividness he achieved in his
+description of it. The minister's narrative was pale and colorless by
+comparison, and those who came from a distance went away convinced
+that they had talked with an eyewitness to the tragedy and esteemed
+themselves fortunate. In short, he imposed himself on the situation with
+such brilliancy that in the end his account of the murder became
+the accepted version from which all other versions differed to their
+discredit.
+
+In the same magnificent spirit of public service he would have assumed
+the direction of the search for the murderer, but Mr. Betts' jealousy
+proved an obstacle to his ambitious design. In view of this he was
+regretful, but not surprised when the hard-ridden miles covered by dusty
+men and reeking horses yielded only failure.
+
+“If I had shot that poor boy, I wouldn't ask any surer guarantee of
+safety than to have that fool Betts with his microscopic brain working
+in unhampered asininity on the case,” he told Mahaffy.
+
+“Is it your idea that you are enlarging your circle of intimate friends
+by the way you go about slamming into folks?” inquired Mahaffy, with
+harsh sarcasm.
+
+Later, the judge was shocked at what he characterized as official
+apathy. It became a point on which he expressed himself with surpassing
+candor.
+
+“Do they think the murderer's going to come in and give himself up?--is
+that the notion?” he demanded heatedly of Mr. Saul.
+
+“The sheriff owns himself beat, Sir; the murderer's got safely away and
+left no clue to his identity.”
+
+The judge waived this aside.
+
+“Clues, sir? If you mean physical evidence the eye can apprehend, I
+grant it; the murderer has got away; certainly he's been given all the
+time he needed, but what about the motive that prompted the crime? An
+intelligently conducted examination such as I am willing to undertake
+might still bring it to light. Isn't it known that Norton was attacked a
+fortnight ago as he was leaving Belle Plain? He recovers and is about
+to be married to Miss Malroy when he is shot at the church door; I'll
+hazard the opinion the attack was in the nature of a warning for him to
+keep away from Belle Plain. Now, had he a rival? Clear up these points
+and you get a clue!” The judge paused impressively.
+
+“Tom Ware has acted in a straightforward manner. He's stated frankly
+he was opposed to the match, that when he heard about it on his way to
+Memphis he turned back and made every effort to get to the church in
+time to stop it if he could,” said Mr. Saul.
+
+“Mr. Ware need not be considered,” observed the judge.
+
+“Well, there's been a heap of talk.”
+
+“If he'd inspired the firing of the fatal shot he'd have kept away from
+the church. No, no, Mr. Saul, is there anybody hereabout who aspired to
+Miss Malroy's hand--any rejected suitor?”
+
+“Not that we know of.”
+
+“Under ordinary circumstances, sir, I am opposed to measures that
+ignore the constituted authorities, but we find ourselves living under
+extraordinary conditions, and the law--God save the name--has proved
+itself abortive. It is time for the better element to join bands; we
+must get together, sir. I am willing to take the initial steps and
+issue the call for a mass meeting of our best citizens. I am prepared to
+address such a meeting.” The very splendor of his conception dazzled the
+judge; this promised a gorgeous publicity with his name flying broadcast
+over the county. He continued:
+
+“I am ready to give my time gratuitously to directing the activities of
+a body of picked men who shall rid the county of the lawless element.
+God knows, sir, I desire the repose of a private career, yet I am
+willing to sacrifice myself. Is it your opinion, Mr. Saul, that I should
+move in this matter?”
+
+“I advise you didn't,” said Mr. Saul, with disappointing alacrity.
+
+The judge looked at him fixedly.
+
+“Am I wrong in supposing, Mr. Saul, that if I determine to act as I have
+outlined I shall have your indorsement?” he demanded. Mr. Saul
+looked extremely uncomfortable; he was finding the judge's effulgent
+personality rather compelling. “There is no gentleman whose support
+I should value in quite the same sense that I should value yours, Mr.
+Saul; I should like to feel my course met with your full approval,”
+ pursued the judge, with charming deference.
+
+“You'll get yourself shot full of holes,” said Mr. Saul.
+
+“What causes me to hesitate is this: my name is unfamiliar to your
+citizens. You know their prejudices, Mr. Saul; how would they regard me
+if I put myself forward?”
+
+“Can't say how they would take it,” rejoined Mr. Saul.
+
+Again the judge gave him a fixed scrutiny. Then ha shook him warmly by
+the hand.
+
+“Think of what I have said; ponder it, sir, and let me have your
+answer at another time.” And he backed from Mr. Saul's presence with
+spectacular politeness.
+
+“A cheap mind!” thought the judge, as he hurried up the street.
+
+He broached the subject to Mr. Wesley the postmaster, to Mr. Ellison
+the gunsmith, to Mr. Pegloe, employing much the same formula he had used
+with Mr. Saul, and with results almost identical. He imagined there must
+be some conspiracy afoot to keep him out of the public eye, and in the
+end he managed to lose his temper.
+
+“Hasn't Norton any friends?” he demanded of Pegloe. “Who's going to
+be safe at this rate? We want to let some law into west Tennessee, a
+hanging or two would clear the air!” His emotions became a rage that
+blew through him like a gale, shaking him to his center.
+
+Two mornings later he found where it had been placed under his door
+during the night a folded paper. It contained a single line of writing:
+
+
+“You talk too much. Shut up, or you'll go where Norton went.”
+
+
+Now the judge was accessible to certain forms of fear. He was, for
+instance, afraid of snakes--both kinds--and mobs he had dreaded
+desperately since his Pleasantville experience; but beyond this, fear
+remained an unexplored region to Slocum Price, and as he examined the
+scrawl a smile betokening supreme satisfaction overspread his battered
+features. He was agreeably affected by the situation; indeed he was
+delighted. His activities were being recognized; he had made his
+impression; the cutthroats had selected him to threaten. Well, the
+damned rascals showed their good sense; he'd grant them that! Swelling
+with pride, he carried the scrawl to Mahaffy.
+
+“They are forming their estimate of me, Solomon; I shall have them on
+the run yet!” he declared.
+
+“You are going out of your way to hunt trouble--as if you hadn't enough
+at the best of times, Price! Let these people manage their own affairs,
+don't you mix up in them,” advised the conservative Mahaffy.
+
+The judge drew himself up with an air of lofty pride.
+
+“Do you think I am going to be silenced, intimidated, by this sort of
+thing? No, sir! No, Solomon, the stopper isn't made that will fit my
+mouth.”
+
+A few moments later he burst in on Mr. Saul.
+
+“Glance at that, my friend!” he cried, as he tossed the paper on the
+clerk's desk. “Eh, what?--no joke about that, Mr. Saul. I found it under
+my door this morning.” Mr. Saul glanced at the penciled lines and drew
+in his breath sharply. “What do you make of it, sir?” demanded the judge
+anxiously.
+
+“Well, of course, you'll do as you please, but I'd keep still.”
+
+“You mean you regard this as an authentic expression, sir, and not as
+the joke of some irresponsible humorist?”
+
+“It's authentic enough,” said Mr. Saul impatiently.
+
+The judge gave a sigh of relief; he could have hugged the little clerk
+who had put to rest certain miserable doubts that had assailed him.
+
+“Sir, I wish it known that I hold the writer and his threats in
+contempt; if I have given offense it is to an element I shall never seek
+to conciliate.” Mr. Saul was clearly divided between his admiration for
+the judge's courage and fear for his safety. “One thing is proven, sir,”
+ the judge went on; “the man who murdered that poor boy is in our midst;
+that point can no longer be disputed. Now, where are their fine-spun
+theories as to how he crossed to the Arkansas coast? What does their
+mass of speculation and conjecture amount to in the face of this?” He
+breathed deep. “My God, sir, the murderer may be the very next man you
+pass the time of day with!” Mr. Saul shivered uncomfortably. “And the
+case in the hands of that pin-headed fool, Betts!” The judge laughed
+derisively as he bowed himself out. He left it with Mr. Saul to
+disseminate the news. The judge strutted home with his hat cocked over
+one eye, and his chest expanded to such limits that it menaced all
+his waistcoat buttons. Perhaps he was under observation. Ah, let the
+cutthroats look their full at him!
+
+He established himself in his office. He had scarcely done so when Mr.
+Betts knocked at the door. The sheriff came direct from Mr. Saul and
+arrived out of breath, but the letter was not mentioned by the judge.
+He spoke of the crops, the chance of rain, and the intricacies of county
+politics. The sheriff withdrew mystified, wondering why it was he had
+not felt at liberty to broach the subject which was uppermost in
+his mind. His place was taken by Mr. Pegloe, and on the heels of
+the tavern-keeper came Mr. Bowen. Judge Price received them with
+condescension, but back of the condescension was an air of reserve
+that did not invite questions. The judge discussed the extension of
+the national roads with Mr. Pegloe, and the religion of the Persian
+fire-worshipers with Mr. Bowen; he permitted never a pause and they
+retired as the sheriff had done without sight of the letter.
+
+The judge's office became a perfect Mecca for the idle and the curious,
+and while he overflowed with high-bred courtesy he had never seemed so
+unapproachable--never so remote from matters of local and contemporary
+interest.
+
+“Why don't you show 'em the letter?” demanded Mr. Mahaffy, when they
+were alone. “Can't you see they are suffering for a sight of it?”
+
+“All in good time, Solomon.” He became thoughtful. “Solomon, I am
+thinking of offering a reward for any information that will lead to the
+discovery of my anonymous correspondent,” he at length observed with a
+finely casual air, as if the idea had just occurred to him, and had not
+been seething in his brain all day.
+
+“There you go, Price--” began Mahaffy.
+
+“Solomon, this is no time for me to hang back. I shall offer a reward
+of five thousand dollars for this information.” The judge's tone was
+resolute. “Yes, sir, I shall make the figure commensurate with the
+poignant grief I feel. He was my friend and client--” The moisture
+gathered in his eyes.
+
+“I should think that fifty dollars was nearer to being your figure,”
+ suggested the cautious Mahaffy.
+
+“Inadequate and most insulting,” said the judge.
+
+“Well, where do you expect to get five thousand dollars?” cried Mahaffy
+in a tone of absolute exasperation.
+
+“Where would I get fifty?” inquired the judge mildly.
+
+For once Mahaffy frankly owned himself beaten. A gleam of admiration lit
+up his glance.
+
+“Price, you have a streak of real greatness!” he declared.
+
+Before the day was over it was generally believed that the judge was
+wearing his gag with humility; interest in him declined, still the
+public would have been grateful for a sight of that letter.
+
+“Shucks, he's nothing but an old windbag!” said Mr. Pegloe to a group of
+loungers gathered before his tavern in the early evening.
+
+As he spoke, the judge's door opened and that gentleman appeared on his
+threshold with a lighted candle in each hand. Glancing neither to the
+right nor the left he passed out and up the street. Not a breath of wind
+was blowing and the flames of the two candles burnt clear and strong,
+lighting up his stately advance.
+
+At the corner of the court-house green stood a row of locust hitching
+posts. Two of these the judge decorated with his candles, next he
+measured off fifteen paces, strides as liberal as he could make them
+without sacrifice to his dignity; he scored a deep line in the dust
+with the heel of his boot, toed it squarely, and drew himself up to his
+fullest height. His right hand was seen to disappear under the frayed
+tails of his coat, it reappeared and was raised with a movement quicker
+than the eye could follow and a pistol shot rang out. One of the candles
+was neatly snuffed.
+
+The judge allowed himself a covert glance in the direction of the
+loungers before the tavern. He was aware that a larger audience was
+assembling. A slight smile relaxed the firm set of his lips. The
+remaining candle sputtered feebly. The judge walked to the post and
+cleared the wick from tallow with his thumb-nail. There was no haste in
+any of his movements; his was the deliberation of conscious efficiency.
+Resuming his former station back of the line he had drawn in the dusty
+road he permitted his eye to gauge the distance afresh, then his hand
+was seen to pass deftly to his left hip pocket, the long barrel of the
+rifle pistol was leveled, the piece cracked, and the candle's yellow
+flame vanished.
+
+The judge pocketed his pistol, walked down the street, and with never a
+glance toward the tavern reentered his house.
+
+The next morning it was discovered that sometime during the night the
+judge had tacked his anonymous communication on the court-house door;
+just below it was another sheet of paper covered with bold script:
+
+
+“TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: Judge Slocum Price assumes that the above was
+intended for him since he found it under his office door on the morning
+of the twenty-fifth inst.
+
+“Judge Price begs leave to state it as his unqualified conviction that
+the writer is a coward and a cur, and offers a reward of five thousand
+dollars for any information that will lead to his identification.
+
+“Judge Price has stated that he would conduct an intelligently directed
+investigation of the Norton murder mystery without remuneration. He
+has the honor to assure his friends that he is still willing to do so;
+however, he takes this opportunity to warn the public that each day's
+delay is a matter of the utmost gravity.
+
+“Furthermore, judge Price avails himself on this occasion to say that
+he has no wish to avoid personal conclusions with the murderers and
+cutthroats who are terrorizing this community; on the contrary, he will
+continue earnestly to seek such personal conclusions.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. THE CABIN ACROSS THE BAYOU
+
+
+Tom Ware was seated alone over his breakfast. He had left his bed as
+the pale morning light crept across the great fields that were alike his
+pride and his despair--what was the use of trying to sleep when sleep
+was an impossibility! The memory of that tragedy at the church door was
+a black horror to him; it gave substance to his dreams, it brought him
+awake with writhing lips that voiced his fear in the dead stillness of
+the night. The days were scarcely less terrible. Steeled and resolute
+as his will could make him, he was not able to speak of what he had seen
+with composure. Being as he was in this terribly perturbed state he had
+shirked his morning toilet and presented a proportionately haggard
+and unkempt appearance. He was about to quit the table when big Steve
+entered the room to say there was a white fellow at the door wished to
+see him.
+
+“Fetch him along in here,” said Ware briefly, without lifting his
+bloodshot eyes.
+
+Brought into his presence the white fellow delivered a penciled note
+which proved to be from Murrell, and then on Ware's invitation partook
+of whisky. When he was gone, the planter ordered his horse, and while he
+waited for it to be brought up from the stables, reread Murrell's
+note. The expression of his unprepossessing features indicated what
+was passing in his mind, his mood was one of sullen rebellion. He felt
+Murrell was bent on committing him to an aggregate of crime he
+would never have considered possible, and all for love of a girl--a
+pink-cheeked, white-faced chit of a girl--disgust boiled up within him,
+rage choked him; this was the rotten spot in Murrell's make-up, the man
+was mad-stark mad!
+
+As Ware rode away from Belle Plain he cursed him under his breath with
+vindictive thoroughness. His own inclination toward evil was never very
+robust; he could have connived and schemed over a long period of
+years to despoil Betty of her property, he would have counted this a
+legitimate field for enterprise; but murder and abduction was quite
+another thing. He would wash his hands of all further connection with
+Murrell, he had other things to lose besides Belle Plain, and the
+present would be as good a time as any to let the outlaw know he could
+be coerced and bullied no longer. But he had a saving recollection
+of the way in which Murrell dealt with what he counted treachery; an
+unguarded word, and he would not dare to travel those roads even at
+broad noon-day, while to pass before a lighted window at night would be
+to invite death; nowhere would he be safe.
+
+Three miles from Belle Plain he entered a bridle path that led toward
+the river; he was now traversing a part of the Quintard tract. Two miles
+from the point where he had quitted the main road he came out upon the
+shores of a wide bayou. Looking across this he saw at a distance of half
+a mile what seemed to be a clearing of considerable extent, it was the
+first sign of human occupation he had seen since leaving Belle Plain.
+
+An impenetrable swamp defended the head of the bayou which he skirted.
+Doubling back as though he were going to retrace his steps to Belle
+Plain, finally he gained a position opposite the clearing which still
+showed remotely across the wide reach of sluggish water. Here he
+dismounted and tied his horse, then as one tolerably familiar with the
+locality and its resources, he went down to the shore and launched a
+dugout which he found concealed in some bushes; entering it he pointed
+its blunt bow in the direction of the clearing opposite. A growth of
+small timber was still standing along the water's edge, but as he drew
+nearer, those betterments which the resident of that lonely spot had
+seen fit to make for his own convenience, came under his scrutiny; these
+consisted of a log cabin and several lesser sheds. Landing and securing
+his dug-out by the simple expedient of dragging half its length out of
+the water, he advanced toward the cabin. As he did so he saw two
+women at work heckling flax under an open shed. They were the wife and
+daughter of George Hicks, his overseer's brother.
+
+“Morning, Mrs. Hicks,” he said, addressing himself to the mother, a
+hulking ruffian of a woman.
+
+“Howdy, sir?” she answered. Her daughter glanced indifferently in Ware's
+direction. She was a fine strapping girl, giving that sense of physical
+abundance which the planter admired.
+
+“They'd better keep her out of Murrell's way!” he thought; aloud he
+said, “Anybody with the captain?”
+
+“Colonel Fentress is.”
+
+“Humph!” muttered Ware. He moved to the door of the cabin and pushing
+it open, entered the room where Murrell and Fentress were seated facing
+each other across the breakfast table. The planter nodded curtly. He had
+not seen Murrell since the murder, and the sight of him quickened the
+spirit of antagonism which he had been nursing. “You roust a fellow out
+early enough!” he grumbled, rubbing his unshaven chin with the back of
+his hand.
+
+“I was afraid you'd be gone somewhere. Sit down--here, between the
+colonel and me,” said Murrell.
+
+“Well, what the devil do you want of me anyhow?” demanded the planter.
+
+“How's your sister, Tom?” inquired Murrell.
+
+“I reckon she's the way you'd expect her to be.” Ware dropped his voice
+to a whisper. Those women were just the other side of the logs, he could
+hear them at their work.
+
+“Who's at Belle Plain now?” continued Murrell.
+
+“Bowen's wife and daughter have stayed,” answered Ware, still in a
+whisper.
+
+“For how long, Tom? Do you know?”
+
+“They were to go home after breakfast this morning; the daughter's to
+come out again to-morrow and stay with Betty until she leaves.”
+
+“What's that you're saying?” cried Murrell.
+
+“She's going back to North Carolina to those friends of hers; it's no
+concern of mine, she does what she likes without consulting me.” There
+was a brief pause during which Murrell scowled at the planter.
+
+“I reckon your heart's tender, too!” he presently said. Ware's dull
+glance shifted to Fentress, but the colonel's cold and impassive
+exterior forbade the thought that his sympathy had been roused.
+
+“It isn't that,” Ware muttered, moistening his lips. He felt the utter
+futility of opposition. “I am for letting things rest just where they
+are,” again his voice slid into a husky whisper. “You'll be running all
+our heads into a halter, the first thing you know--and this isn't any
+place to talk over such matters, there are too many people about.”
+
+“There's only Bess and the old woman busy outside,” said Murrell.
+
+“What's to hinder them from sticking an ear to a chink in the logs?”
+
+“Go on, and finish what you've got to say, and get it off your mind,”
+ said Murrell.
+
+“Well, then, I want to tell you that I consider you didn't regard me at
+all in the way you managed that business at the church! If I had known
+what was due to happen there, do you think I'd have gone near the place?
+But you let me go! I met you on the road and you told me you'd learned
+Norton had been to see Bowen, you told me that much, but you didn't tell
+me near all you might!” Ware was bitter and resentful; again he felt the
+sweat of a mortal terror drip from him.
+
+“It was the best thing for you that it happened the way it did,”
+ rejoined Murrell coolly. “No one will ever think you had a hand in it.”
+
+“It wasn't right! You placed me in the meanest kind of a situation,”
+ objected Ware sullenly, mopping his face.
+
+“Did you think I was going to let the marriage take place? You knew
+he had been warned to keep away from her,” said Murrell. There was a
+movement overhead in the loft, the loose clapboards with which it was
+floored creaked under a heavy tread.
+
+“Who's that? Hicks?” asked Ware.
+
+“It isn't Hicks--never mind who it is, Tom,” answered Murrell quietly.
+
+“I thought you'd sent him out of the county?” muttered Ware, his face
+livid.
+
+“Look here, Tom, I don't ask your help, but I won't stand your
+interference. I'm going to have the girl.”
+
+“John, you'll ruin yourself with your damned crazy infatuation!” It was
+Fentress, no longer able to control himself, who spoke.
+
+“No, I won't, Colonel, but I'm not going to discuss that. All I want is
+for Tom to go to Memphis and stay there for a couple of days. When he
+comes back Belle Plain and its niggers will be as good as his. I am
+going to take the girl away from there to-night. I don't ask your
+help and you needn't ask what comes of her afterward. That will be my
+affair.” Murrell's burning eyes shifted from one to the other.
+
+“A beautiful and accomplished young lady--a great heiress--is to
+disappear and no solution of the mystery demanded by the public
+at large!” said Fentress with an acid smile. Murrell laughed
+contemptuously.
+
+“What's all this fuss over Norton's death amounted to?” he said.
+
+“Are you sure you have come to the end of that, John?” inquired
+Fentress, still smiling.
+
+“I don't propose to debate this further,” rejoined Murrell haughtily.
+Instantly the colonel's jaw became rigid. The masterful airs of this
+cutthroat out of the hills irked him beyond measure. Murrell turned to
+Ware.
+
+“How soon can you get away from here, Tom?” he asked abruptly.
+
+“By God, I can't go too soon!” cried the planter, staggering to his
+feet. He gave Fentress a hopeless beaten look. “You're my witness that
+first and last I've no part in this!” he added.
+
+The colonel merely shrugged his shoulders. Murrell reached out a
+detaining hand and rested it on Ware's arm.
+
+“Keep your wits about you, Tom, and within a week people will have
+forgotten all about Norton and your sister. I am going to give them
+something else to worry over.”
+
+Ware went from the cabin, and as the door swung shut Fentress faced
+Murrell across the table.
+
+“I've gone as far with you in this affair as I can go; after all, as you
+say, it is a private matter. You reap the benefits--you and Tom between
+you--I shall give you a wide berth until you come to your senses.
+Frankly, if you think that in this late day in the world you can carry
+off an unwilling girl, your judgment is faulty.”
+
+“Hold on, Colonel--how do you know she is going to prove unwilling?”
+ objected Murrell, grinning.
+
+Fentress gave him a glance of undisguised contempt and rose from his
+seat.
+
+“I admit your past successes, John--that is, I take your word for
+them--but Miss Malroy is a lady.”
+
+“I have heard enough!” said Murrell angrily.
+
+“So have I, John,” retorted the colonel in a tone that was unvexed but
+final, “and I shall count it a favor if you will never refer to her in
+my hearing.” He moved in the direction of the door.
+
+“Oh, you and I are not going to lose our tempers over this!” began
+Murrell. “Come, sit down again, Colonel!” he concluded with great good
+nature.
+
+“We shall never agree, John--you have one idea and I another.”
+
+“We'll let the whole matter drop out of our talk. Look here, how about
+the boy--are you ready for him if I can get my hands on him?”
+
+Fentress considered. From the facts he had gathered he knew that the man
+who called himself Judge Price must soon run his course in Raleigh, and
+then as inevitably push out for fresh fields. Any morning might find him
+gone and the boy with him.
+
+“I can't take him to my place as I had intended doing; under the
+circumstances that is out of the question,” he said at length.
+
+“Of course; but I'll send him either up or down the river and place him
+in safe keeping where you can get him any time you want.”
+
+“This must be done without violence, John!” stipulated Fentress.
+
+“Certainly, I understand that perfectly well. It wouldn't suit your
+schemes to have that brace of old sots handled by the Clan. Which shall
+it be--up or down river?”
+
+“Could you take care of him for me below, at Natchez?” inquired
+Fentress.
+
+“As well there as anywhere, Colonel, and he'll pass into safe hands; he
+won't give me the slip the second time!”
+
+“Good!” said Fentress, and took his leave.
+
+From the window Murrell watched him cross the clearing, followed by the
+girl, Bess, who was to row him over to the opposite shore. He reflected
+that these men--the Wares and Fentresses and their like--were keen
+enough where they had schemes of their own they wished put through;
+it was only when he reached out empty hands that they reckoned the
+consequences.
+
+Three-quarters of an hour slipped by, then, piercing the silence,
+Murrell heard a shrill whistle; it was twice repeated; he saw Bess go
+down to the landing again. A half-hour elapsed and a man issued from
+the scattering growth of bushes that screened the shore. The new-comer
+crossed the clearing and entered the cabin. He was a young fellow of
+twenty-four or five, whose bronzed and sunburnt face wore a somewhat
+reckless expression.
+
+“Well, Captain, what's doing?” he asked, as he shook hands with Murrell.
+
+“I've been waiting for you, Hues,” said Murrell. He continued, “I reckon
+the time's here when nothing will be gained by delay.”
+
+Hues dropped down on a three-legged stool and looked at the
+outlaw fixedly and in silence for a moment. At length he nodded
+understandingly.
+
+“You mean?”
+
+“If anything's to be done, now is the time. What have you to report?”
+
+“Well, I've seen the council of each Clan division. They are ripe to
+start this thing off.”
+
+Murrell gave him a moment of moody regard.
+
+“Twice already I've named the day and hour, but now I'm going to put it
+through!” He set his teeth and thrust out his jaw.
+
+“Captain, you're the greatest fellow in America! Inside of a week men
+who have never been within five hundred miles of you will be asking each
+other who John Murrell is!”
+
+Murrell had expected to part with Hues then and there and for all time,
+but Hues possessed qualities which might still be of use to him.
+
+“What do you expect to do for yourself?” he demanded. The other laughed
+shortly.
+
+“Captain, I'm going to get rich while I have the chance. Ain't that what
+we are all after?”
+
+“How?” inquired Murrell quietly. Hues shifted his seat.
+
+“I'm sensitive about calling things by their short names;” he gave way
+to easy laughter; “but if you've got anything special you're saving for
+yourself, I'm free to say I'd rather take chances with you than with
+another,” he finished carelessly.
+
+“Hues, you must start back across Tennessee. Make it Sunday at
+midnight--that's three days off.” Unconsciously his voice sank to a
+whisper.
+
+“Sunday at midnight,” repeated Hues slowly.
+
+“When you have passed the word into middle Tennessee, turn south and
+make the best of your way to New Orleans. Don't stop for anything--push
+through as fast as you can. You'll find me there. I've a notion you and
+I will quit the country together.”
+
+“Quit the country! Why, Captain, who's talking of quitting the country?”
+
+“You speak as though you were fool enough to think the niggers would
+accomplish something!” said Murrell coolly. “There will be confusion at
+first, but there are enough white men in the southwest to handle a
+heap better organized insurrection than we'll be able to set going. Our
+fellows will have to use their heads as well as their hands or they are
+likely to help the nigger swallow his medicine. I look for nothing
+else than considerable of a shake-up along the Mississippi... what with
+lynchers and regulators a man will have to show a clean bill of health
+to be allowed to live, no matter what his color--just being white won't
+help him any!”
+
+“No, you're right, it won't!” and again Hues gave way to easy laughter.
+
+“When you've done your work you strike south as I tell you and join me.
+I'm going to keep New Orleans for myself--it's my ambition to destroy
+the city Old Hickory saved!”
+
+“And then it's change your name and strike out for Texas with what
+you've picked up!”
+
+“No, it isn't! I'll have my choice of men--a river full of ships. Look
+here, there's South America, or some of those islands in the gulf with
+a black-and-tan population and a few white mongrels holding on to
+civilization by their eye-teeth; what's to hinder our setting up shop
+for ourselves? Two or three hundred Americans could walk off with an
+island like Hayti, for instance--and it's black with niggers. What
+we'd done here would be just so much capital down there. We'd make it a
+stamping-ground for the Clan! In the next two years we could bring in a
+couple of thousand Americans and then we'd be ready to take over their
+government, whether they liked it or not, and run it at a profit. We'd
+put the niggers back in slavery where they belong, and set them at work
+raising sugar and tobacco for their new bosses. Man, it's the richest
+land in the world, I tell you--and the mountains are full of gold!”
+
+Hues had kindled with a ready enthusiasm while Murrell was speaking.
+
+“That sounds right, Captain--we'd have a country and a flag of our
+own--and I look at those free niggers as just so much boot!”
+
+“I shall take only picked men with me--I can't give ship room to any
+other--but I want you. You'll join me in New Orleans?” said Murrell.
+
+“When do you start south?” asked Hues quickly.
+
+“Inside of two days. I've got some private business to settle before I
+leave. I'll hang round here until that's attended to.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. THE JUDGE EXTENDS HIS CREDIT
+
+
+That afternoon Judge Price walked out to Belle Plain. Solomon Mahaffy
+had known that this was a civility Betty Malroy could by no means
+escape. He had been conscious of the judge's purpose from the moment
+it existed in the germ state, and he had striven to divert him, but
+his striving had been in vain, for though the judge valued Mr. Mahaffy
+because of certain sterling qualities which he professed to discern
+beneath the hard crust that made up the external man, he was not
+disposed to accept him as his mentor in nice matters of taste and
+gentlemanly feeling. He owed it to himself personally to tender his
+sympathy. Miss Malroy must have heard something of the honorable part
+he had played; surely she could not be in ignorance of the fact that the
+lawless element, dreading his further activities, had threatened
+him. She must know, too, about that reward of five thousand dollars.
+Certainly her grief could not blind her to the fact that he had met
+the situation with a largeness of public spirit that was an impressive
+lesson to the entire community.'
+
+These were all points over which he and Mahaffy had wrangled, and he
+felt that his friend, in seeking to keep him away from Belle Plain, was
+standing squarely in his light. He really could not understand Solomon
+or his objections. He pointed out that Norton had probably left a
+will--no one knew yet--probably his estate would go to his intended
+wife--what more likely? He understood Norton had cousins somewhere
+in middle Tennessee--there was the attractive possibility of extended
+litigation. Miss Malroy needed a strong, clear brain to guide her past
+those difficulties his agile fancy assembled in her path. He beamed on
+his friend with a wide sunny smile.
+
+“You mean she needs a lawyer, Price?” insinuated Mahaffy.
+
+“That slap at me, Solomon, is unworthy of you. Just name some one, will
+you, who has shown an interest comparable to mine? I may say I have
+devoted my entire energy to her affairs, and with disinterestedness. I
+have made myself felt. Will you mention who else these cutthroats
+have tried to browbeat and frighten? They know that my theories and
+conclusions are a menace to them! I got 'em in a panic, sir--presently
+some fellow will lose his nerve and light out for the tall timber--and
+it will be just Judge Slocum Price who's done the trick--no one else!”
+
+“Are you looking for some one to take a pot shot at you?” inquired
+Mahaffy sourly.
+
+“Your remark uncovers my fondest hope, Solomon--I'd give five years
+of my life just to be shot at--that would round out the episode of the
+letter nicely;” again the judge beamed on Mahaffy with that wide and
+sunny smile of his.
+
+“Why don't you let the boy go alone, Price?” suggested Mahaffy.
+He lacked that sense of sublime confidence in the judge's tact and
+discretion of which the judge, himself, entertained never a doubt.
+
+“I shall not obtrude myself, Solomon; I shall merely walk out to Belle
+Plain and leave a civil message. I know what's due Miss Malroy in her
+bereaved state--she has sustained no ordinary loss, and in no ordinary
+fashion. She has been the center of a striking and profoundly moving
+tragedy! I would give a good deal to know if my late client left a
+will--”
+
+“You might ask her,” said Mahaffy cynically. “Nothing like going to
+headquarters for the news!”
+
+“Solomon, Solomon, give me credit for common sense--go further, and give
+me credit for common decency! Don't let us forget that ever since we
+came here she has manifested a charmingly hospitable spirit where we are
+concerned!”
+
+“Wouldn't charity hit nearer the mark, Price?”
+
+“I have never so regarded it, Solomon,” said the judge mildly. “I have
+read a different meaning in the beef and flour and potatoes she's sent
+here. I expect if the truth could be known to us she is wondering in
+the midst of her grief why I haven't called, but she'll appreciate the
+considerate delicacy of a gentleman. I wish it were possible to get cut
+flowers in this cussed wilderness!”
+
+The judge had been occupied with a simple but ingenious toilet. He had
+trimmed the frayed skirts of, his coat; then by turning his cuffs inside
+out and upside down a fresh surface made its first public appearance.
+Next his shoes had engaged his attention. They might have well
+discouraged a less resolute and resourceful character, but with the
+contents of his ink-well he artfully colored his white yarn socks where
+they showed though the rifts in the leather. This the judge did gaily,
+now humming a snatch of song, now listening civilly to Mahaffy, now
+replying with undisturbed cheerfulness. Last of all he clapped his dingy
+beaver on his head, giving it an indescribably jaunty slant, and stepped
+to the door.
+
+“Well, wish me luck, Solomon, I'm off--come, Hannibal!” he said. At
+heart he cherished small hope of seeing Betty, advantageous as he
+felt an interview might prove. However, on reaching Belle Plain he and
+Hannibal were shown into the cool parlor by little Steve. It was more
+years than the judge cared to remember since he had put his foot inside
+such a house, but with true grandeur of soul he rose to the occasion;
+a sublimated dignity shone from every battered feature, while he fixed
+little Steve with so fierce a glance that the grin froze on his lips.
+
+“You are to say that judge Slocum Price presents his compliments and
+condolences to Miss Malroy--have you got that straight, you pinch
+of soot?” he concluded affably. Little Steve, impressed alike by the
+judge's air of condescension and his easy flow of words, signified that
+he had. “You may also say that judge Price's ward, young Master Hazard,
+presents his compliments and condolences--” What more the judge might
+have said was interrupted by the entrance of Betty, herself.
+
+“My dear young lady--” the judge bowed, then he advanced toward her
+with the solemnity of carriage and countenance he deemed suitable to
+the occasion, and her extended hand was engulfed between his two plump
+palms. He rolled his eyes heavenward. “It's the Lord's to deal with
+us as His own inscrutable wisdom dictates,” he murmured with pious
+resignation. “We are all poorer, ma'am, that he has died--just as we
+were richer while he lived!” The rich cadence of the judge's speech fell
+sonorously on the silence, and that look of horror which had never quite
+left Betty's eyes since they saw Charley Norton fall, rose out of their
+clear depths again. The judge, instantly stricken with a sense of
+the inadequacy of his words, doubled on his spiritual tracks. “In a
+round-about way, ma'am, we're bound to believe in the omnipresence of
+Providence--we must think it--though a body might be disposed to hold
+that west Tennessee had got out of the line of divine supervision
+recently. Let me lead you to a chair, ma'am!”
+
+Hannibal had slipped to Betty's side and placed his hand in hers. The
+judge regarded the pair with great benevolence of expression. “He would
+come, and I hadn't the heart to forbid it. If I can be of any service
+to you, ma'am, either in the capacity of a friend--or professionally--I
+trust you will not hesitate to command me--” The judge backed toward the
+door.
+
+“Did you walk out, Judge Price?” asked Betty kindly.
+
+“Nothing more than a healthful exercise--but we will not detain you,
+ma'am; the pleasure of seeing you is something we had not reckoned on!”
+ The judge's speech was thick and unctuous with good feeling. He wished
+that Mahaffy might have been there to note the reserve and dignity of
+his deportment.
+
+“But you must let me order luncheon for you,” said Betty. At least this
+questionable old man was good to Hannibal.
+
+“I couldn't think of it, ma'am--”
+
+“You'll have a glass of wine, then,” urged Betty hospitably. For the
+moment she had lost sight of what was clearly the judge's besetting sin.
+
+The judge paused abruptly. He endured a moment of agonizing
+irresolution.
+
+“On the advice of my physician I dare not touch wine--gout, ma'am,
+and liver--but this restriction does not apply to corn whisky--in
+moderation, and as a tonic--either before meals, immediately after meals
+or at any time between meals--always keeping in mind the idea of its
+tonic properties--” The judge seemed to mellow and ripen. This was
+much better than having the dogs sicked on you! His manner toward Betty
+became almost fatherly. Poor young thing, so lonely and desolate in the
+midst of all this splendor--he surreptitiously wiped away a tear,
+and when little Steve presented himself and was told to bring whisky,
+audibly smacked his lips--a whole lot better, surely!
+
+“I am sorry you think you must hurry away, Judge Price,” said Betty. She
+still retained the small brown hand Hannibal had thrust into hers.
+
+“The eastern mail gets in to-day, ma'am, and I have reason to think
+my share of it will be especially heavy, for it brings the bulk of my
+professional correspondence.” In ten years the judge had received just
+one communication by mail--a bill which had followed him through four
+states and seven counties. “I expect my secretary--” boldly fixing
+Solomon Mahaffy's status, “is already dipping into it; an excellent
+assistant, ma'am, but literary rather than legal.”
+
+Little Steve reappeared bearing a silver tray on which was a decanter
+and glass.
+
+“Since you insist, ma'am,” the judge poured himself a drink, “my best
+respects--” he bowed profoundly.
+
+“If you are quite willing, judge, I think I will keep Hannibal. Miss
+Bowen, who has been here--since--” her voice broke suddenly.
+
+“I understand, ma'am,” said the judge soothingly. He gave her a glance
+of great concern and turned to Hannibal. “Dear lad, you'll be very quiet
+and obedient, and do exactly as Miss Malroy says? When shall I come for
+him, ma'am?”
+
+“I'll send him to you when he is ready to go home. I am thinking of
+visiting my friends in North Carolina, and I should like to have him
+spend as much time as possible with me before I start for the East.”
+
+It had occurred to Betty that she had done little or nothing for the
+child; probably this would be her last opportunity.
+
+The state of the judge's feelings was such that with elaborate absence
+of mind he poured himself a second drink of whisky; and that there
+should be no doubt the act was one of inadvertence, said again, “My best
+respects, ma'am,” and bowed as before. Putting down the glass he backed
+toward the door.
+
+“I trust you will not hesitate to call upon me if I can be of any use to
+you, ma'am--a message will bring me here without a moment's delay.” He
+was rather disappointed that no allusion had been made to his recent
+activities. He reasoned correctly that Betty was as yet in ignorance of
+the somewhat dangerous eminence he had achieved as the champion of law
+and order. However, he reflected with satisfaction that Hannibal, in
+remaining, would admirably serve his ends.
+
+Betty insisted that he should be driven home, and after faintly
+protesting, the judge gracefully yielded the point, and a few moments
+later rolled away from Belle Plain behind a pair of sleek-coated bays,
+with a negro in livery on the box. He was conscious of a great sense of
+exaltation. He felt that he should paralyze Mahaffy. He even temporarily
+forgot the blow his hopes had sustained when Betty spoke of returning to
+North Carolina. This was life--broad acres and niggers--principally
+to trot after you toting liquor--and such liquor!--he lolled back
+luxuriantly with half-closed eyes.
+
+“Twenty years in the wood if an hour!” he muttered. “I'd like to have
+just such a taste in my mouth when I come to die--and probably she has
+barrels of it!” he sighed deeply, and searched his soul for words with
+which adequately to describe that whisky to Mahaffy.
+
+But why not do more than paralyze Solomon--that would be pleasant but
+not especially profitable. The judge came back quickly to the vexed
+problem of his future. He desired to make some striking display of Miss
+Malroy's courtesy. He knew that his credit was experiencing the pangs of
+an early mortality; he was not sensitive, yet for some days he had
+been sensible of the fact that what he called the commercial class was
+viewing him with open disfavor, but he must hang on in Raleigh a little
+longer--for him it had become the abode of hope. The judge considered
+the matter. At least he could let people see something of that decent
+respect with which Miss Malroy treated him.
+
+They were entering Raleigh now, and he ordered the coachman to pull his
+horses down to a walk. He had decided to make use of the Belle Plain
+turnout in creating an atmosphere of confidence and trust--especially
+trust. To this end he spent the best part of an hour interviewing
+his creditors. It amounted almost to a mass-meeting of the adult male
+population, for he had no favorites. When he invaded virgin territory
+he believed in starting the largest possible number of accounts without
+delay. The advantage of his system, as he explained its workings to
+Mahaffy, was that it bred a noble spirit of emulation. He let it be
+known in a general way that things were looking up with him; just in
+what quarter he did not specify, but there he was, seated in the Belle
+Plain carriage and the inference was unavoidable that Miss Malroy was to
+recognize his activities in a substantial manner.
+
+Mahaffy, loafing away the afternoon in the county clerk's office, heard
+of the judge's return. He heard that Charley Norton had left a will;
+that Thicket Point went to Miss Malroy; that the Norton cousins in
+middle Tennessee were going to put up a fight; that Judge Price had been
+retained as counsel by Miss Malroy; that he was authorized to begin an
+independent search for Charley Norton's murderer, and was to spare no
+expense; that Judge Price was going to pay his debts. Mahaffy grinned at
+this and hurried home. He could believe all but the last, that was the
+crowning touch of unreality.
+
+The judge explained the situation.
+
+“I wouldn't withhold hope from any man, Solomon; it's the cheapest thing
+in the world and the one thing we are most miserly about extending
+to our fellows. These people all feel better--and what did it cost
+me?--just a little decent consideration; just the knowledge of what the
+unavoidable associations of ideas in their own minds would do for them!”
+
+What had seemed the corpse of credit breathed again, and the judge and
+Mahaffy immediately embarked upon a characteristic celebration. Early
+candlelight found them making a beginning; midnight came--the gray and
+purple of dawn--and they were still at it, back of closed doors and
+shuttered windows.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. BETTY LEAVES BELLE PLAIN
+
+
+Hannibal had devoted himself loyally to the judge's glorification, and
+Betty heard all about the letter, the snuffing of the candles and the
+reward of five thousand dollars. It vastly increased the child's sense
+of importance and satisfaction when he discovered she had known nothing
+of these matters until he told her of them.
+
+“Why, where would Judge Price get so much money, Hannibal?” she asked,
+greatly astonished.
+
+“He won't have to get it, Miss Betty; Mr. Mahaffy says he don't reckon
+no one will ever tell who wrote the letter--he 'lows the man who done
+that will keep pretty mum--he just dassent tell!” the boy explained.
+
+“No, I suppose not--” and Betty saw that perhaps, after all, the judge
+had not assumed any very great financial responsibility. “He can't be a
+coward, though, Hannibal!” she added, for she understood that the risk
+of personal violence which he ran was quite genuine. She had formed her
+own unsympathetic estimate of him that day at Boggs' race-track; Mahaffy
+in his blackest hour could have added nothing to it. Twice since then
+she had met him in Raleigh, which had only served to fix that first
+impression.
+
+“Miss Betty, he's just like my Uncle Bob was--he ain't afraid of
+nothing! He totes them pistols of his--loaded--if you notice good you
+can see where they bulge out his coat!” Hannibal's eyes, very round and
+big, looked up into hers.
+
+“Is he as poor as he seems, Hannibal?” inquired Betty.
+
+“He never has no money, Miss Betty, but I don't reckon he's what a body
+would call pore.”
+
+It might have baffled a far more mature intelligence than Hannibal's to
+comprehend those peculiar processes by which the judge sustained himself
+and his intimate fellowship with adversity--that it was his magnificence
+of mind which made the squalor of his daily life seem merely a passing
+phase--but the boy had managed to point a delicate distinction, and
+Betty grasped something of the hope and faith which never quite died out
+in Slocum Price's indomitable breast.
+
+“But you always have enough to eat, dear?” she questioned anxiously.
+Hannibal promptly reassured her on this point. “You wouldn't let me
+think anything that was not true, Hannibal--you are quite sure you have
+never been hungry?”
+
+“Never, Miss Betty; honest!”
+
+Betty gave a sigh of relief. She had been reproaching herself for her
+neglect of the child; she had meant to do so much for him and had done
+nothing! Now it was too late for her personally to interest herself in
+his behalf, yet before she left for the East she would provide for him.
+If she had felt it was possible to trust the judge she would have
+made him her agent, but even in his best aspect he seemed a dubious
+dependence. Tom, for quite different reasons, was equally out of the
+question. She thought of Mr. Mahaffy.
+
+“What kind of a man is Mr. Mahaffy, Hannibal?”
+
+“He's an awful nice man, Miss Betty, only he never lets on; a body's got
+to find it out for his own self--he ain't like the judge.”
+
+“Does he--drink, too, Hannibal?” questioned Betty.
+
+“Oh, yes; when he can get the licker, he does.” It was evident that
+Hannibal was cheerfully tolerant of this weakness on the part of the
+austere Mahaffy. By this time Betty was ready to weep over the child,
+with his knowledge of shabby vice, and his fresh young faith in those
+old tatterdemalions.
+
+“But, no matter what they do, they are very, very kind to you?” she
+continued quite tremulously.
+
+“Yes, ma'am--why, Miss Betty, they're lovely men!”
+
+“And do you ever hear the things spoken of you learned about at Mrs.
+Ferris' Sunday-school?”
+
+“When the judge is drunk he talks a heap about 'em. It's beautiful
+to hear him then; you'd love it, Miss Betty,” and Hannibal smiled up
+sweetly into her face.
+
+“Does he have you go to Sunday-school in Raleigh?”
+
+The boy shook his head.
+
+“I ain't got no clothes that's fitten to wear, nor no pennies to give,
+but the judge, he 'lows that as soon as he can make a raise I got to
+go, and he's learning me my letters--but we ain't a book. Miss Betty, I
+reckon it'd stump you some to guess how he's fixed it for me to learn?”
+
+“He's drawn the letters for you, is that the way?” In spite of herself,
+Betty was experiencing a certain revulsion of feeling where the judge
+and Mahaffy were concerned. They were doubtless bad enough, but they
+could have been worse.
+
+“No, ma'am; he done soaked the label off one of Mr. Pegloe's whisky
+bottles and pasted it on the wall just as high as my chin, so's I can
+see it good, and he's learning me that-a-ways! Maybe you've seen the
+kind of bottle I mean--Pegloe's Mississippi Pilot: Pure Corn Whisky?”
+ But Hannibal's bright little face fell. He was quick to see that the
+educational system devised by the judge did not impress Betty at all
+favorably. She drew him into her arms.
+
+“You shall have my books--the books I learned to read out of when I was
+a little girl, Hannibal!”
+
+“I like learning from the label pretty well,” said Hannibal loyally.
+
+“But you'll like the books better, dear, when you see them. I know just
+where they are, for I happened on them on a shelf in the library only
+the other day.”
+
+After they had found and examined the books and Hannibal had grudgingly
+admitted that they might possess certain points of advantage over the
+label, he and Betty went out for a walk. It was now late afternoon and
+the sun was sinking behind the wall of the forest that rose along the
+Arkansas coast. Their steps had led them to the terrace where they stood
+looking off into the west. It was here that Betty had said good-by to
+Bruce Carrington--it might have been months ago, and it was only days.
+She thought of Charley--Charley, with his youth and hope and high
+courage--unwittingly enough she had led him on to his death! A sob rose
+in her throat.
+
+Hannibal looked up into her face. The memory of his own loss was never
+very long absent from his mind, and Miss Betty had been the victim of
+a similarly sinister tragedy. He recalled those first awful days
+of loneliness through which he had lived, when there was no Uncle
+Bob--soft-voiced, smiling and infinitely companionable.
+
+“Why, Hannibal, you are crying--what about, dear?” asked Betty suddenly.
+
+“No, ma'am; I ain't crying,” said Hannibal stoutly, but his wet lashes
+gave the lie to his words.
+
+“Are you homesick--do you wish to go back to the judge and Mr. Mahaffy?”
+
+“No, ma'am--it ain't that--I was just thinking--”
+
+“Thinking about what, dear?”
+
+“About my Uncle Bob.” The small face was very wistful.
+
+“Oh--and you still miss him so much, Hannibal?”
+
+“I bet I do--I reckon anybody who knew Uncle Bob would never get over
+missing him; they just couldn't, Miss Betty! The judge is mighty kind,
+and so is Mr. Mahaffy--they're awful kind, Miss Betty, and it seems like
+they get kinder all the time--but with Uncle Bob, when he liked you, he
+just laid himself out to let you know it!”
+
+“That does make a great difference, doesn't it?” agreed Betty sadly, and
+two piteous tearful eyes were bent upon him.
+
+“Don't you reckon if Uncle Bob is alive, like the judge says, and
+he's ever going to find me, he had ought to be here by now?” continued
+Hannibal anxiously.
+
+“But it hasn't been such a great while, Hannibal; it's only that so much
+has happened to you. If he was very badly hurt it may have been weeks
+before he could travel; and then when he could, perhaps he went back to
+that tavern to try to learn what had become of you. But we may be
+quite certain he will never abandon his search until he has made every
+possible effort to find you, dear! That means he will sooner or later
+come to west Tennessee, for there will always be the hope that you have
+found your way here.”
+
+“Sometimes I get mighty tired waiting, Miss Betty,” confessed the boy.
+“Seems like I just couldn't wait no longer.” He sighed gently, and then
+his face cleared. “You reckon he'll come most any time, don't you, Miss
+Betty?”
+
+“Yes, Hannibal; any day or hour!”
+
+“Whoop!” muttered Hannibal softly under his breath. Presently he asked:
+“Where does that branch take you to?” He nodded toward the bayou at the
+foot of the terraced bluff.
+
+“It empties into the river,” answered Betty.
+
+Hannibal saw a small skiff beached among the cottonwoods that grew along
+the water's edge and his eyes lighted up instantly. He had a juvenile
+passion for boats.
+
+“Why, you got a boat, ain't you, Miss Betty?” This was a charming and an
+important discovery.
+
+“Would you like to go down to it?” inquired Betty.
+
+“'Deed I would! Does she leak any, Miss Betty?”
+
+“I don't know about that. Do boats usually leak, Hannibal?”
+
+“Why, you ain't ever been out rowing in her, Miss Betty, have you?--and
+there ain't no better fun than rowing a boat!” They had started down the
+path.
+
+“I used to think that, too, Hannibal; how do you suppose it is that when
+people grow up they forget all about the really nice things they might
+do?”
+
+“What use is she if you don't go rowing in her?” persisted Hannibal.
+
+“Oh, but it is used. Mr. Tom uses it in crossing to the other side where
+they are clearing land for cotton. It saves him a long walk or ride
+about the head of the bayou.”
+
+“Like I should take you out in her, Miss Betty?” demanded Hannibal with
+palpitating anxiety.
+
+They had entered the scattering timber when Betty paused suddenly with
+a startled exclamation, and Hannibal felt her fingers close convulsively
+about his. The sound she had heard might have been only the rustling
+of the wind among the branches overhead in that shadowy silence, but
+Betty's nerves, the placid nerves of youth and perfect health, were
+shattered.
+
+“Didn't you hear something, Hannibal?” she whispered fearfully.
+
+For answer Hannibal pointed mysteriously, and glancing in the direction
+he indicated, Betty saw a woman advancing along the path toward them.
+The look of alarm slowly died out of his eyes.
+
+“I think it's the overseer's niece,” she told Hannibal, and they kept on
+toward the boat.
+
+The girl came rapidly up the path, which closely followed the irregular
+line of the shore in its windings. Once she was seen to stop and glance
+back over her shoulder, her attitude intent and listening, then she
+hurried forward again. Just by the boat the three met.
+
+“Good evening!” said Betty pleasantly.
+
+The girl made no reply to this; she merely regarded Betty with a fixed
+stare. At length she broke silence abruptly.
+
+“I got something I want to say to you--you know who I am, I reckon?” She
+was a girl of about Betty's own age, with a certain dark, sullen beauty
+and that physical attraction which Tom, in spite of his vexed mood, had
+taken note of earlier in the day.
+
+“You are Bess Hicks,” said Betty.
+
+“Make the boy go back toward the house a spell--I got something I want
+to say to you.” Betty hesitated. She was offended by the girl's manner,
+which was as rude as her speech. “I ain't going to hurt you--you needn't
+be afraid of me, I got something important to say--send him off, I
+tell you; there ain't no time to lose!” The girl stamped her foot
+impatiently.
+
+Betty made a sign to Hannibal and he passed slowly back along the path.
+He went unwillingly, and he kept his head turned that he might see what
+was done, even if he were not to hear what was said.
+
+“That will do, Hannibal--wait there--don't go any farther!” Betty called
+after him when he had reached a point sufficiently distant to be out of
+hearing of a conversation carried on in an ordinary tone. “Now, what is
+it? Speak quickly if you have anything to tell me!”
+
+“I got a heap to say,” answered the girl with a scowl. Her manner was
+still fierce and repellent, and she gave Betty a certain jealous
+regard out of her black eyes which the latter was at a loss to explain.
+“Where's Mr. Tom?” she demanded.
+
+“Tom? Why, about the place, I suppose--in his office, perhaps.” So it
+had to do with Tom.... Betty felt sudden disgust with the situation.
+
+“No, he ain't about the place, either! He done struck out for Memphis
+two hours after sun-up, and what's more, he ain't coming back here
+to-night--” There was a moment of silence. The girl looked about
+apprehensively. She continued, fixing her black eyes on Betty: “You're
+here alone at Belle Plain--you know what happened when Mr. Tom started
+for Memphis last time? I reckon you-all ain't forgot that!”
+
+Betty felt a pallor steal over her face. She rested a hand that shook on
+the trunk of a tree to steady herself. The girl laughed shortly.
+
+“Don't be so scared; I reckon Belle Plain's as good as his if anything
+happened to you?”
+
+By a great effort Betty gained a measure of control over herself. She
+took a step nearer and looked the girl steadily in the face.
+
+“Perhaps you will stop this sort of talk, and tell me what is going to
+happen to me--if you know?” she said quietly.
+
+“Why do you reckon Mr. Norton was shot? I can tell you why--it was all
+along of you--that was why!” The girl's furtive glance, which searched
+and watched the gathering shadows, came back as it always did to Betty's
+pale face. “You ain't no safer than he was, I tell you!” and she sucked
+in her breath sharply between her full red lips.
+
+“What do you mean?” faltered Betty.
+
+“Do you reckon you're safe here in the big house alone? Why do you
+reckon Mr. Tom cleared out for Memphis? It was because he couldn't be
+around and have anything happen to you--that was why!” and the girl sank
+her voice to a whisper. “You quit Belle Plain now--to-night--just as
+soon as you can!”
+
+“This is absurd--you are trying to frighten me!”
+
+“Did they stop with trying to frighten Charley Norton?” demanded Bess
+with harsh insistence.
+
+Whatever the promptings that inspired this warning, they plainly had
+nothing to do with either liking or sympathy. Her dominating emotion
+seemed to be a sullen sort of resentment which lit up her glance with a
+dull fire; yet her feelings were so clearly and so keenly personal that
+Betty understood the motive that had brought her there. The explanation,
+she found, left her wondering just where and how her own fate was linked
+with that of this poor white.
+
+“You have been waiting some time to see me?” she asked.
+
+“Ever since along about noon.”
+
+“You were afraid to come to the house?”
+
+“I didn't want to be seen there.”
+
+“And yet you knew I was alone.”
+
+“Alone--but how do you know who's watching the place?”
+
+“Do you think there was reason to be afraid of that?” asked Betty.
+
+Again the girl stamped her foot with angry impatience.
+
+“You're just wastin' time--just foolin' it away--and you ain't got none
+to spare!”
+
+“You must tell me what I have to fear--I must know more or I shall stay
+just where I am!”
+
+“Well, then, stay!” The girl turned away, and then as quickly turned
+back and faced Betty once more. “I reckon he'd kill me if he knew--I
+reckon I've earned that already--”
+
+“Of whom are you speaking?”
+
+“He'll have you away from here to-night!”
+
+“He?... who?... and what if I refuse to go?”
+
+“Did they ask Charley Norton whether he wanted to live or die?” came the
+sinister question.
+
+A shiver passed through Betty. She was seeing it all again--Charley as
+he groped among the graves with the hand of death heavy upon him.
+
+A moment later she was alone. The girl had disappeared. There was only
+the shifting shadows as the wind tossed the branches of the trees, and
+the bands of golden light that slanted along the empty path. The fear of
+the unknown leaped up afresh in Betty's soul, in an instant her flying
+feet had borne her to the boy's side.
+
+“Come--come quick, Hannibal!” she gasped out, and seized his hand.
+
+“What is it, Miss Betty? What's the matter?” asked Hannibal as they fled
+panting up the terraces.
+
+“I don't know--only we must get away from here just as soon as we can!”
+ Then, seeing the look of alarm on the child's face, she added more
+quietly, “Don't be frightened, dear, only we must go away from Belle
+Plain at once.” But where they were to go, she had not considered.
+
+Reaching the house, they stole up to Betty's room. Her well-filled purse
+was the important thing; that, together with some necessary clothing,
+went into a small hand-bag.
+
+“You must carry this, Hannibal; if any one sees us leave the house
+they'll think it something you are taking away,” she explained. Hannibal
+nodded understandingly.
+
+“Don't you trust your niggers, Miss Betty?” he whispered as they went
+from the room.
+
+“I only trust you, dear!”
+
+“What makes you go? Was it something that woman told you? Are they
+coming after us, Miss Betty? Is it Captain Murrell?”
+
+“Captain Murrell?” There was less of mystery now, but more of terror,
+and her hand stole up to her heart, and, white and slim, rested against
+the black fabric of her dress.
+
+“Don't you be scared, Miss Betty!” said Hannibal.
+
+They went silently from the house and again crossed the lawn to the
+terrace. Under the leafy arch which canopied them there was already the
+deep purple of twilight.
+
+“Do you reckon it were Captain Murrell shot Mr. Norton, Miss Betty?”
+ asked Hannibal in a shuddering whisper.
+
+“Hush--Oh, hush, Hannibal! It is too awful to even speak of--” and,
+sobbing and half hysterical, she covered her face with her hands.
+
+“But where are we going, Miss Betty?” asked the boy.
+
+“I don't know, dear!” she had an agonizing sense of the night's approach
+and of her own utter helplessness.
+
+“I'll tell you what, Miss Betty, let's go to the judge and Mr. Mahaffy!”
+ said Hannibal.
+
+“Judge Price?” She had not thought of him as a possible protector.
+
+“Why, Miss Betty, ain't I told you he ain't afraid of nothing? We could
+walk to Raleigh easy if you don't want your niggers to hook up a team
+for you.”
+
+Betty suddenly remembered the carriage which had taken the judge into
+town; she was sure it had not yet returned.
+
+“We will go to the judge, Hannibal! George, who drove him into Raleigh,
+has not come back; if we hurry we may meet him on the road.”
+
+Screened by the thick shadows, they passed up the path that edged the
+bayou; at the head of the inlet they entered a clearing, and crossing
+this they came to the corn-field which lay between the house and the
+highroad. Following one of the shock rows they hurried to the mouth of
+the lane.
+
+“Hannibal, I don't want to tell the judge why I am leaving Belle
+Plain--about the woman, I mean,” said Betty.
+
+“You reckon they'd kill her, don't you, Miss Betty, if they knew what
+she'd done?” speculated the boy. It occurred to him that an adequate
+explanation of their flight would require preparation, since the judge
+was at all times singularly alive to the slightest discrepancy of
+statement. They had issued from the cornfield now and were going along
+the road toward Raleigh. Suddenly Betty paused.
+
+“Hark!” she whispered.
+
+“It were nothing, Miss Betty,” said Hannibal reassuringly, and they
+hurried forward again. In the utter stillness through which they moved
+Betty heard the beating of her own heart, and the soft, and all but
+inaudible patter of the boy's bare feet on the warm dust of the road.
+Vague forms that resolved themselves into trees and bushes seemed to
+creep toward them out of the night's black uncertainty. Once more Betty
+paused.
+
+“It were nothing, Miss Betty,” said Hannibal as before, and he
+returned to his consideration of the judge. He sensed something of that
+intellectual nimbleness which his patron's physical make-up in nowise
+suggested, since his face was a mask that usually left one in doubt as
+to just how much of what he heard succeeded in making its impression on
+him; but the boy knew that Slocum Price's blind side was a shelterless
+exposure.
+
+“You don't think the carriage could have passed us while we were
+crossing the corn-field?” said Betty.
+
+“No, I reckon we couldn't a-missed hearing it,” answered Hannibal. He
+had scarcely spoken when they caught the rattle of wheels and the beat
+of hoofs. These sounds swept nearer and nearer, and then the darkness
+disgorged the Belle Plain team and carriage.
+
+“George!” cried Betty, a world of relief in her tones.
+
+“Whoa, you!” and George reined in his horses with a jerk. “Who's dar?”
+ he asked, bending forward on the box as he sought to pierce the darkness
+with his glance.
+
+“George--”
+
+“Oh, it you, Missy?”
+
+“Yes, I wish you to drive me into Raleigh,” said Betty, and she and
+Hannibal entered the carriage.
+
+“All right, Missy. Yo'-all ready fo' me to go along out o' here?”
+
+“Yes--drive fast, George!” urged Betty.
+
+“It's right dark fo' fas' drivin' Missy, with the road jes' aimin' fo'
+to bus' yo' springs with chuckholes!” He had turned his horses' heads in
+the direction of Raleigh while he was speaking. “It's scandalous black
+in these heah woods, Missy I 'clar' I never seen it no blacker!”
+
+The carriage swung forward for perhaps a hundred yards, then suddenly
+the horses came to a dead stop.
+
+“Go along on, dar!” cried George, and struck them with his whip, but the
+horses only reared and plunged.
+
+“Hold on, nigger!” said a rough voice out of the darkness.
+
+“What yo' doin'?” the coachman gasped. “Don' yo' know dis de Belle Plain
+carriage? Take yo' han's offen to dem hosses' bits!”
+
+Two men stepped to the side of the carriage.
+
+“Show your light, Bunker,” said the same rough voice that had spoken
+before. Instantly a hooded lantern was uncovered, and Hannibal uttered
+a cry of terror. He was looking into the face of Slosson, the
+tavern-keeper.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. PRISONERS
+
+
+In the face of Betty's indignant protest Slosson and the man named
+Bunker climbed into the carriage.
+
+“Don't you be scared, ma'am,” said the tavernkeeper, who smelt strongly
+of whisky. “I wouldn't lift my hand ag'in no good looking female except
+in kindness.”
+
+“How dare you stop my carriage?” cried Betty, with a very genuine anger
+which for the moment dominated all her other emotions. She struggled to
+her feet, but Slosson put out a heavy hand and thrust her back.
+
+“There now,” he urged soothingly. “Why make a fuss? We ain't going to
+harm you; we wouldn't for no sum of money. Drive on, Jim--drive like
+hell!” This last was addressed to the man who had taken George's place
+on the box, where a fourth member of Slosson's band had forced the
+coachman down into the narrow space between the seat and dashboard, and
+was holding a pistol to his head while he sternly enjoined silence.
+
+With a word to the horses Jim swung about and the carriage rolled off
+through the night at a breakneck' pace. Betty's shaking hands drew
+Hannibal closer to her side as she felt the surge of her terrors rise
+within her. Who were these men--where could they be taking her--and for
+what purpose? The events of the past weeks linked themselves in tragic
+sequence in her mind.
+
+What was it she had to fear? Was it Tom who had inspired Norton's
+murder? Was it Tom for whom these men were acting? Tom who would profit
+greatly by her disappearance or death.
+
+They swept past the entrance at Belle Plain, past a break in the wall of
+the forest where the pale light of stars showed Betty the corn-field she
+and Hannibal had but lately crossed, and then on into pitchy darkness
+again. She clung to the desperate hope that they might meet some one on
+the road, when she could cry out and give the alarm. She held herself
+in readiness for this, but there was only the steady pounding of the big
+bays as Jim with voice and whip urged them forward. At last he abruptly
+checked them, and Bunker and Slosson sprang from their seats.
+
+“Get down, ma'am!” said the latter.
+
+“Where are you taking me?” asked Betty, in a voice that shook in spite
+of her efforts to control it.
+
+“You must hurry, ma'am,” urged Slosson impatiently.
+
+“I won't move until I know where you intend taking me!” said Betty, “If
+I am to die--”
+
+Mr. Slosson laughed loudly and indulgently.
+
+“You ain't. If you don't want to walk, I'm man enough fo' to tote you.
+We ain't far to go, and I've tackled jobs I'd a heap less heart fo' in
+my time,” he concluded gallantly. From the opposite side of the carriage
+Bunker swore nervously. He desired to know if they were to stand there
+talking all night. “Shut your filthy mouth, Bunker, and see you keep
+tight hold of that young rip-staver,” said Slosson. “He's a perfect
+eel--I've had dealings with him afore!”
+
+“You tried to kill my Uncle Bob--at the tavern, you and Captain Murrell.
+I heard you, and I seen you drag him to the river!” cried Hannibal.
+
+Slosson gave a start of astonishment at this.
+
+“Why, ain't he hateful?” he exclaimed aghast. “See here, young feller,
+that's no kind of a way fo' you to talk to a man who has riz his ten
+children!”
+
+Again Bunker swore, while Jim told Slosson to make haste. This popular
+clamor served to recall the tavernkeeper to a sense of duty.
+
+“Ma'am, like I should tote you, or will you walk?” he inquired, and
+reaching out his hand took hold of Betty.
+
+“I'll walk,” said the girl quickly, shrinking from the contact.
+
+“Keep close at my heels. Bunker, you tuck along after her with the boy.”
+
+“What about this nigger?” asked the fourth man.
+
+“Fetch him along with us,” said Slosson. They turned from the road
+while he was speaking and entered a narrow path that led off through the
+woods, apparently in the direction of the river. A moment later Betty
+heard the carriage drive away. They went onward in silence for a little
+time, then Slosson spoke over his shoulder.
+
+“Yes, ma'am, I've riz ten children but none of 'em was like him--I
+trained 'em up to the minute!” Mr. Slosson seemed to have passed
+completely under the spell of his domestic recollections, for he
+continued with just a touch of reminiscent sadness in his tone. “There
+was all told four Mrs. Slossons: two of 'em was South Carolinians, one
+was from Georgia, and the last was a widow lady out of east Tennessee.
+She'd buried three husbands and I figured we could start perfectly
+even.”
+
+The intrinsic fairness of this start made its strong appeal. Mr. Slosson
+dwelt upon it with satisfaction. “She had three to her credit, I had
+three to mine; neither could crow none over the other.”
+
+As they stumbled forward through the thick obscurity he continued his
+personal revelations, the present enterprise having roused whatever
+there was of sentiment slumbering in his soul. At last they came out on
+a wide bayou; a white mist hung above it, and on the low shore leaf and
+branch were dripping with the night dews. Keeping close to the water's
+edge Slosson led the way to a point where a skiff was drawn up on the
+bank.
+
+“Step in, ma'am,” he said, when he had launched it.
+
+“I will go no farther!” said Betty in desperation. She felt an
+overmastering fear, the full horror of the unknown lay hold of her, and
+she gave a piercing cry for help. Slosson swung about on his heel and
+seized her. For a moment she struggled to escape, but the man's big
+hands pinioned her.
+
+“No more of that!” he warned, then he recovered himself and laughed.
+“You could yell till you was black in the face, ma'am, and there'd be no
+one to hear you.”
+
+“Where are you taking me?” and Betty's voice faltered between the sudden
+sobs that choked her.
+
+“Just across to George Hicks's.”
+
+“For what purpose?”
+
+“You'll know in plenty of time.” And Slosson leered at her through the
+darkness.
+
+“Hannibal is to go with me?” asked Betty tremulously.
+
+“Sure!” agreed Slosson affably. “Your nigger, too--quite a party.”
+
+Betty stepped into the skiff. She felt her hopes quicken--she was
+thinking of Bess; whatever the girl's motives, she had wished her to
+escape. She would wish it now more than ever since the very thing she
+had striven to prevent had happened. Slosson seated himself and took up
+the oars, Bunker followed with Hannibal and they pushed off. No word
+was spoken until they disembarked on the opposite shore, when Slosson
+addressed Bunker. “I reckon I can manage that young rip-staver, you go
+back after Sherrod and the nigger,” he said.
+
+He conducted his captives up the bank and they entered a clearing.
+Looking across this Betty saw where a cabin window framed a single
+square of light. They advanced toward this and presently the dark
+outline of the cabin itself became distinguishable. A moment later
+Slosson paused, a door yielded to his hand, and Betty and the boy were
+thrust into the room where Murrell had held his conference with Fentress
+and Ware. The two women were now its only occupants and the mother,
+gross and shapeless, turned an expressionless face on the intruders; but
+the daughter shrank into the shadow, her burning glance fixed on Betty.
+
+“Here's yo' guests, old lady!” said Mr. Slosson. Mrs. Hicks rose from
+the three-legged stool on which she was sitting.
+
+“Hand me the candle, Bess,” she ordered.
+
+At one side of the room was a steep flight of stairs which gave access
+to the loft overhead. Mrs. Hicks, by a gesture, signified that Betty and
+Hannibal were to ascend these stairs; they did so and found themselves
+on a narrow landing inclosed by a partition of rough planks, this
+partition was pierced by a low door. Mrs. Hicks, who had followed close
+at their heels, handed the candle to Betty.
+
+“In yonder!” she said briefly, nodding toward the door.
+
+“Wait!” cried Betty in a whisper.
+
+“No,” said the woman with an almost masculine surliness of tone. “I got
+nothing to say.” She pushed them into the attic, and, closing the door,
+fastened it with a stout wooden bar.
+
+Beyond that door, which seemed to have closed on every hope, Betty held
+the tallow dip aloft, and by its uncertain and flickering light surveyed
+her prison. The briefest glance sufficed. The room contained two
+shakedown beds and a stool, there was a window in the gable, but a piece
+of heavy plank was spiked before it.
+
+“Miss Betty, don't you be scared,” whispered Hannibal. “When the judge
+hears we're gone, him and Mr. Mahaffy will try to find us. They'll go
+right off to Belle Plain--the judge is always wanting to do that, only
+Mr. Mahaffy never lets him but now he won't be able to stop him.”
+
+“Oh, Hannibal, Hannibal, what can he do there--what can any one do
+there?” And a dead pallor overspread the girl's face. To speak of the
+blind groping of her friends but served to fix the horror of their
+situation in her mind.
+
+“I don't know, Miss Betty, but the judge is always thinking of things to
+do; seems like they was mostly things no one else would ever think of.”
+
+Betty had placed the candle on the stool and seated herself on one of
+the beds. There was the murmur of voices in the room below; she wondered
+if her fate was under consideration and what that fate was to be.
+Hannibal, who had been examining the window, returned to her side.
+
+“Miss Betty, if we could just get out of this loft we could steal their
+skiff and row down to the river; I reckon they got just the one boat;
+the only way they could get to us would be to swim out, and if they done
+that we could pound 'em over the head with the oars the least little
+thing sinks you when you're in the water.” But this murderous fancy of
+his failed to interest Betty.
+
+Presently they heard Sherrod and Bunker come up from the shore with
+George. Slosson joined them and there was a brief discussion, then an
+interval of silence, and the sound of voices again as the three white
+men moved back across the field in the direction of the bayou. There
+succeeded a period of utter stillness, both in the cabin and in the
+clearing, a somber hush that plunged Betty yet deeper in despair. Wild
+thoughts assailed her, thoughts against which she struggled with all the
+strength of her will.
+
+In that hour of stress Hannibal was sustained by his faith in the judge.
+He saw his patron's powerful and picturesque intelligence applied to
+solving the mystery of their disappearance from Belle Plain; it was
+inconceivable that this could prove otherwise than disastrous to Mr.
+Slosson and he endeavored to share the confidence he was feeling with
+Betty, but there was something so forced and unnatural in the girl's
+voice and manner when she discussed his conjectures that he quickly fell
+into an awed silence. At last, and it must have been some time after
+midnight, troubled slumbers claimed him. No moment of forgetfulness came
+to Betty. She was waiting for what--she did not know! The candle burnt
+lower and lower and finally went out and she was left in darkness, but
+again she was conscious of sounds from the room below. At first it
+was only a word or a sentence, then the guarded speech became a steady
+monotone that ran deep into the night; eventually this ceased and Betty
+fancied she heard sobs.
+
+At length points of light began to show through chinks in the logs.
+Hannibal roused and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his
+hands.
+
+“Wasn't you able to sleep none?” he inquired. Betty shook her head. He
+looked at her with an expression of troubled concern. “How soon do you
+reckon the judge will know?” he asked.
+
+“Very soon now, dear.” Hannibal was greatly consoled by this opinion.
+
+“Miss Betty, he will love to find us--”
+
+“Hark! What was that?” for Betty had caught the distant splash of
+oars. Hannibal found a chink in the logs through which by dint of much
+squinting he secured a partial view of the bayou. “They're fetching up
+a keel boat to the shore, Miss Betty--it's a whooper!” he announced.
+Betty's heart sank, she never doubted the purpose for which that boat
+was brought into the bayou, or that it nearly concerned herself.
+
+Half an hour later Mrs. Hicks appeared with their breakfast. It was
+in vain that Betty attempted to engage her in conversation, either she
+cherished some personal feeling of dislike for her prisoner, or else the
+situation in which she herself was placed had little to recommend it,
+even to her dull mind, and her dissatisfaction was expressed in her
+attitude toward the girl.
+
+Betty passed the long hours of morning in dreary speculation concerning
+what was happening at Belle Plain. In the end she realized that the day
+could go by and her absence occasion no alarm; Steve might reasonably
+suppose George had driven her into Raleigh or to the Bowens' and that
+she had kept the carriage. Finally all her hope centered on Judge Price.
+He would expect Hannibal during the morning, perhaps when the boy did
+not arrive he would be tempted to go out to Belle Plain to discover
+the reason of his nonappearance. She wondered what theories would offer
+themselves to his ingenious mind, for she sensed something of that
+indomitable energy which in the face of rebuffs and laughter carried him
+into the thick of every sensation.
+
+At noon, Mrs. Hicks, as sullen as in the morning, brought them their
+dinner. She had scarcely quitted the loft when a shrill whistle pierced
+the silence that hung above the clearing. It was twice repeated, and the
+two women were heard to go from the cabin. Perhaps half an hour elapsed,
+then a step became audible on the packed earth of the dooryard; some
+one entered the room below and began to ascend the narrow stairs, and
+Betty's fingers closed convulsively about Hannibal's. This was neither
+Mrs. Hicks nor her daughter, nor Slosson with his clumsy shuffle.
+There was a brief pause when the landing was reached, but it was only
+momentary; a hand lifted the bar, the door was thrown open, and its
+space framed the figure of a man. It was John Murrell.
+
+Standing there he regarded Betty in silence, but a deep-seated fire
+glowed in his sunken eyes. The sense of possession was raging through
+him, his temples throbbed, a fever stirred his blood. Love, such as it
+was, he undoubtedly felt for her and even his giant project with all its
+monstrous ramifications was lost sight of for the moment. She was the
+inspiration for it all, the goal and reward toward which he struggled.
+
+“Betty!” the single word fell softly from his lips. He stepped into the
+room, closing the door as he did so.
+
+The girl's eyes were dilating with a mute horror, for by some swift
+intuitive process of the mind, which asked nothing of the logic of
+events, but dealt only with conclusions, Murrell stood revealed as
+Norton's murderer. Perhaps he read her thoughts, but he had lived in his
+degenerate ambitions until the common judgments or the understanding
+of them no longer existed for him. That Betty had loved Norton seemed
+inconsequential even; it was a memory to be swept away by the force of
+his greater passion. So he watched her smilingly, but back of the smile
+was the menace of unleashed impulse.
+
+“Can't you find some word of welcome for me, Betty?” he asked at length,
+still softly, still with something of entreaty in his tone.
+
+“Then it was you--not Tom--who had me brought here!” She could have
+thanked God had it been Tom, whose hate was not to be feared as she
+feared this man's love.
+
+“Tom--no!” and Murrell laughed. “You didn't think I'd give you up? I am
+standing with a halter, about my neck, and all for your sake--who'd risk
+as much for love of you?” he seemed to expand with savage pride that
+this was so, and took a step toward her.
+
+“Don't come near me!” cried Betty. Her eyes blazed, and she looked at
+him with' loathing.
+
+“You'll learn to be kinder,” he exulted. “You wouldn't see me at Belle
+Plain; what was left for me but to have you brought here?” While Murrell
+was speaking, the signal that had told of his own presence on the
+opposite shore of the bayou was heard again. This served to arrest his
+attention. A look of uncertainty passed over his face, then he made an
+impatient gesture as if he dismissed some thought that had forced itself
+upon him, and turned to Betty.
+
+“You don't ask what my purpose is where you are concerned; have you
+no curiosity on that score?” She endeavored to meet his glance with a
+glance as resolute, then her eyes sought the boy's upturned face. “I
+am going to send you down river, Betty. Later I shall join you in New
+Orleans, and when I leave the country you shall go with me--”
+
+“Never!” gasped Betty.
+
+“As my wife, or however you choose to call it. I'll teach you what a
+man's love is like,” he boasted, and extended his hand. Betty shrank
+from him, and his hand fell at his side. He looked at her steadily out
+of his deep-sunk eyes in which blazed the fires of his passion, and as
+he looked, her face paled and flushed by turns. “You may learn to be
+kind to me, Betty,” he said. “You may find it will be worth your while.”
+ Betty made no answer, she only gathered Hannibal closer to her side. “Why
+not accept what I have to offer, Betty?” again he went nearer her,
+and again she shrank from him, but the madness of his mood was in the
+ascendant. He seized her and drew her to him. She struggled to free
+herself, but his fingers tightened about hers.
+
+“Let me go!” she panted. He laughed his cool laugh of triumph.
+
+“Let you go--ask me anything but that, Betty! Have you no reward
+for patience such as mine? A whole summer has passed since I saw you
+first--”
+
+There was the noisy shuffling of feet on the stairs, and releasing
+Betty, Murrell swung about on his heel and faced the door. It was pushed
+open an inch at a time by a not too confident hand and Mr. Slosson thus
+guardedly presented himself to the eye of his chief, whom he beckoned
+from the room.
+
+“Well?” said Murrell, when they stood together on the landing.
+
+“Just come across to the keel boat!” and Slosson led the way down the
+stairs and from the house.
+
+“Damn you, Joe; you might have waited!” observed the outlaw. Slosson
+gave him a hardened grin. They crossed the clearing and boarded the keel
+boat which rested against the bank. As they did so, the cabin in the
+stern gave up a shattered presence in the shape of Tom Ware. Murrell
+started violently. “I thought you were hanging out in Memphis, Tom?”
+ he said, and his brow darkened as, sinister and forbidding, he stepped
+closer to the planter. Ware did not answer at once, but looked at
+Murrell out of heavy bloodshot eyes, his face pinched and ghastly. At
+last he said, speaking with visible effort,
+
+“I stayed in Memphis until five o'clock this morning.”
+
+“Damn your early hours!” roared Murrell. “What are you doing here?
+I suppose you've been showing that dead face of yours about the
+neighborhood--why didn't you stay at Belle Plain since you couldn't keep
+away?”
+
+“I haven't been near Belle Plain, I came here instead. How am I going
+to meet people and answer questions?” His teeth were chattering. “Is it
+known she's missing?” he added.
+
+“Hicks raised the alarm the first thing this morning, according to the
+instructions I'd given him.”
+
+“Yes?” gasped Ware. He was dripping from every pore and the sickly color
+came and went on his unshaven cheeks. Murrell dropped a heavy hand on
+his shoulder.
+
+“You haven't been at Belle Plain, you say, but has any one seen you on
+the road this morning?”
+
+“No one, John,” cried Ware, panting between each word. There was a
+moment's pause and Ware spoke again. “What are they doing at Belle
+Plain?” he demanded in a whisper. Murrell's lips curled.
+
+“I understand there is talk of suicide,” he said.
+
+“Good!” cried Ware.
+
+“They are dragging the bayou down below the house. It looks as though
+you were going to reap the rewards of the excellent management you have
+given her estate. They have been trying to find you in Memphis, so the
+sooner you show yourself the better,” he concluded significantly.
+
+“You are sure you have her safe, John, no chance of discovery? For God's
+sake, get her away from here as soon as you can, it's an awful risk you
+run!”
+
+“She'll be sent down river to-night,” said Murrell.
+
+“Captain,” began Slosson who up to this had taken no part in the
+conversation. “When are you going to cross to t'other side of the
+bayou?”
+
+“Soon,” replied Murrell. Slosson laughed.
+
+“I didn't know but you'd clean forgot the Clan's business. I want to ask
+another question--but first I want to say that no one thinks higher or
+more frequent of the ladies than just me, I'm genuinely fond of 'em and
+I've never lifted my hand ag'in' 'em except in kindness.” Mr. Slosson
+looked at Ware with an exceedingly virtuous expression of countenance.
+He continued. “Yo' orders are that we're to slip out of this a little
+afore midnight, but suppose there's a hitch--here's the lady knowing
+what she knows and here's the boy knowing what he knows.”
+
+“There can be no hitch,” rasped out Murrell arrogantly.
+
+“I never knew a speculation that couldn't go wrong; and by rights we
+should have got away last night.”
+
+“Well, whose fault is it you didn't?” demanded Murrell.
+
+“In a manner it were mine, but the ark got on a sandbank as we were
+fetching it in and it took us the whole damn night to get clear.”
+
+“Well?” prompted Murrell, with a sullen frown.
+
+“Suppose they get shut of that notion of theirs that the lady's done
+drowned herself, suppose they take to watching the river? Or suppose the
+whole damn bottom drops out of this deal? What then? Why, I'll tell you
+what then--the lady, good looking as she is, knows enough to make west
+Tennessee mighty onhealthy for some of us. I say suppose it's a flash in
+the pan and you have to crowd the distance in between you and this
+part of the world, you can't tell me you'll have any use for her then.”
+ Slosson paused impressively. “And here's Mr. Ware feeling bad, feeling
+like hell,” he resumed. “Him and me don't want to be left in no trap
+with you gone God only knows where.”
+
+“I'll send a man to take charge of the keel boat. I can't risk any more
+of your bungling, Joe.”
+
+“That's all right, but you don't answer my question,” persisted Slosson,
+with admirable tenacity of purpose.
+
+“What is your question, Joe?”
+
+“A lot can happen between this and midnight--”
+
+“If things go wrong with us there'll be a blaze at the head of the
+bayou; does that satisfy you?”
+
+“And what then?”
+
+Murrell hesitated.
+
+“What about the girl?” insisted Slosson, dragging him back to the point
+at issue between them. “As a man I wouldn't lift my hand ag'in' no good
+looking woman except like I said--in kindness, but she can't be turned
+loose, she knows too much. What's the word, Captain--you say it!” he
+urged. He made a gesture of appeal to Ware.
+
+“Look for the light; better still, look for the man I'll send.” And with
+this Murrell would have turned away, but Slosson detained him.
+
+“Who'll he be?”
+
+“Some fellow who knows the river.”
+
+“And if it's the light?” asked the tavern-keeper in a hoarse undertone.
+Again he looked toward Ware, who, dry-lipped and ashen, was regarding
+him steadfastly. Glance met glance, for a brief instant they looked deep
+into each other's eyes and then the hand Slosson had rested on Murrell's
+shoulder dropped at his side.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE JUDGE MEETS THE SITUATION
+
+
+The judge's and Mr. Mahaffy's celebration of the former's rehabilitated
+credit had occupied the shank of the evening, the small hours of the
+night, and that part of the succeeding day which the southwest described
+as soon in the morning; and as the stone jug, in which were garnered the
+spoils of the highly confidential but entirely misleading conversation
+which the judge had held with Mr. Pegloe after his return from Belle
+Plain, lost in weight, it might have been observed that he and Mr.
+Mahaffy seemed to gain in that nice sense of equity which should form
+the basis of all human relations. The judge watched Mr. Mahaffy, and Mr.
+Mahaffy watched the judge, each trustfully placing the regulation of his
+private conduct in the hands of his friend, as the one most likely to be
+affected by the rectitude of his acts.
+
+Probably so extensive a consumption of Mr. Pegloe's corn whisky had
+never been accomplished with greater highmindedness. They honorably
+split the last glass, the judge scorning to set up any technical claim
+to it as his exclusive property; then he stared at Mahaffy, while
+Mahaffy, dark-visaged and forbidding, stared back at him.
+
+The judge sighed deeply. He took up the jug and inverted it. A stray
+drop or so fell languidly into his glass.
+
+“Try squeezing it, Price,” said Mahaffy.
+
+The judge shook the jug, it gave forth an empty sound, and he sighed
+again; he attempted to peer into it, closing one watery eye as he tilted
+it toward the light.
+
+“I wonder no Yankee has ever thought to invent a jug with a glass
+bottom,” he observed.
+
+“What for?” asked Mahaffy.
+
+“You astonish me, Solomon,” exclaimed the judge. “Coming as you do from
+that section which invented the wooden nutmeg, and an eight-day clock
+that has been known to run as much as four or five hours at a stretch. I
+am aware the Yankees are an ingenious people; I wonder none of 'em ever
+thought of a jug with a glass bottom, so that when a body holds it up
+to the light he can see at a glance whether it is empty or not. Do you
+reckon Pegloe has sufficient confidence to fill the jug again for us?”
+
+But Mahaffy's expression indicated no great confidence in Mr. Pegloe's
+confidence.
+
+“Credit,” began the judge, “is proverbially shy; still it may sometimes
+be increased, like the muscles of the body and the mental faculties,
+by judicious use. I've always regarded Pegloe as a cheap mind. I hope
+I have done him an injustice.” He put on his hat, and tucking the jug
+under his arm, went from the house.
+
+Ten or fifteen minutes elapsed. Mahaffy considered this a good sign,
+it didn't take long to say no, he reflected. Another ten or fifteen
+elapsed. Mahaffy lost heart. Then there came a hasty step beyond the
+door, it was thrown violently open, and the judge precipitated himself
+into the room. A glance showed Mahaffy that he was laboring under
+intense excitement.
+
+“Solomon, I bring shocking news. God knows what the next few hours may
+reveal!” cried the judge, mopping his brow. “Miss Malroy has disappeared
+from Belle Plain, and Hannibal has gone with her!”
+
+“Where have they gone?” asked Mahaffy, and his long jaw dropped.
+
+“Would to God I had an answer ready for that question, Solomon!”
+ answered the judge, with a melancholy shake of the head. He gazed down
+on his friend with an air of large tolerance. “I am going to Belle
+Plain, but you are too drunk. Sleep it off, Solomon, and join me when
+your brain is clear and your legs steady.”
+
+Mahaffy jerked out an oath, and lifting himself off his chair, stood
+erect. He snatched up his hat.
+
+“Stuff your pistols into your pockets, and come on, Price!” he said, and
+stalked toward the door.
+
+He flitted up the street, and the judge puffed and panted in his wake.
+They gained the edge of the village without speech.
+
+“There is mystery and rascality here!” said the judge.
+
+“What do you know, Price, and where did you hear this?” Mahaffy shot the
+question back over his shoulder.
+
+“At Pegloe's, the Belle Plain overseer had just fetched the news into
+town.”
+
+Again they were silent, all their energies being absorbed by the
+physical exertion they were making. The road danced before their
+burning eyes, it seemed to be uncoiling itself serpentwise with hideous
+undulations. Mr. Mahaffy was conscious that the judge, of whom he caught
+a blurred vision now at his right side, now at his left, was laboring
+painfully in the heat and dust, the breath whistling from between his
+parched lips.
+
+“You're just ripe for apoplexy, Price!” he snarled, moderating his pace.
+
+“Go on,” said the judge, with stolid resolution.
+
+Two miles out of the village they came to a roadside spring, here they
+paused for an instant. Mahaffy scooped up handfuls of the clear water
+and sucked it down greedily. The judge dropped on his stomach and buried
+his face in the tiny pool, gulping up great thirsty swallows. After a
+long breathless instant he stood erect, with drops of moisture clinging
+to his nose and eyebrows. Mahaffy was a dozen paces down the road,
+hurrying forward again with relentless vigor. The judge shuffled after
+him. The tracks they left in the dust crossed and re-crossed the road,
+but presently the slanting lines of their advance straightened, the
+judge gained and held a fixed place at Mahaffy's right, a step or so in
+the rear. His oppulent fancy began to deal with the situation.
+
+“If anything happens to the child, the man responsible for it would
+better never been born--I'll pursue him with undiminished energy from
+this moment forth!” he panted.
+
+“What could happen to him, Price?” asked Mahaffy.
+
+“God knows, poor little lad!”
+
+“Will you shut up!” cried Mahaffy savagely.
+
+“Solomon!”
+
+“Why do you go building on that idea? Why should any one harm him--what
+earthly purpose--”
+
+“I tell you, Solomon, we are the pivotal point in a vast circle of
+crime. This is a blow at me--this is revenge, sir, neither more nor
+less! They have struck at me through the boy, it is as plain as day.”
+
+“What did the overseer say?”
+
+“Just that they found Miss Malroy gone from Belle Plain this morning,
+and the boy with her.”
+
+“This is like you, Price! How do you know they haven't spent the night
+at some neighbor's?”
+
+“The nearest neighbor is five or six miles distant. Miss Malroy and
+Hannibal were seen along about dusk in the grounds at Belle Plain, do
+you mean to tell me you consider it likely that they set out on foot at
+that hour, and without a word to any one, to make a visit?” inquired the
+judge; but Mahaffy did not contend for this point.
+
+“What are you going to do first, Price?”
+
+“Have a look over the grounds, and talk with the slaves.”
+
+“Where's the brother--wasn't he at Belle Plain last night?”
+
+“It seems he went to Memphis yesterday.”
+
+They plodded forward in silence; now and again they were passed by some
+man on horseback whose destination was the same as their own, and then
+at last they caught sight of Belle Plain in its grove of trees.
+
+All work on the plantation had stopped, and the hundreds of slaves--men,
+women and children--were gathered about the house. Among these moved the
+members of the dominant race. The judge would have attached himself to
+the first group, but he heard a whispered question, and the answer,
+
+“Miss Malroy's lawyer.”
+
+Clearly it was not for him to mix with these outsiders, these curiosity
+seekers. He crossed the lawn to the house, and mounted the steps. In the
+doorway was big Steve, while groups of men stood about in the hall, the
+hum of busy purposeless talk pervading the place. The judge frowned.
+This was all wrong.
+
+“Has Mr. Ware returned from Memphis?” he asked of Steve.
+
+“No, Sah; not yet.”
+
+“Then show me into the library,” said the judge with bland authority,
+surrendering his hat to the butler. “Come along, Mahaffy!” he added.
+They entered the library, and the judge motioned Steve to close the
+door. “Now, boy, you'll kindly ask those people to withdraw--you may say
+it is Judge Price's orders. Allow no one to enter the house unless they
+have business with me, or as I send for them--you understand? After you
+have cleared the house, you may bring me a decanter of corn whisky--stop
+a bit--you may ask the sheriff to step here.”
+
+“Yes, Sah.” And Steve withdrew.
+
+The judge drew an easy-chair up to the flat-topped desk that stood in
+the center of the room, and seated himself.
+
+“Are you going to make this the excuse for another drunk, Price? If so,
+I feel the greatest contempt for you,” said Mahaffy sternly.
+
+The judge winced at this.
+
+“You have made a regrettable choice of words, Solomon,” he urged gently.
+
+“Where's your feeling for the boy?”
+
+“Here!” said the judge, with an eloquent gesture, resting his hand on
+his heart.
+
+“If you let whisky alone, I'll believe you, otherwise what I have said
+must stand.”
+
+The door opened, and the sheriff slouched into the room. He was chewing
+a long wheat straw, and his whole appearance was one of troubled
+weakness.
+
+“Morning,” he said briefly.
+
+“Sit down, Sheriff,” and the judge indicated a meek seat for the
+official in a distant corner. “Have you learned anything?” he asked.
+
+The sheriff shook his head.
+
+“What you turning all these neighbors out of doors for?” he questioned.
+
+“We don't want people tracking in and out the house, Sheriff. Important
+evidence may be destroyed. I propose examining the slaves first--does
+that meet with your approval?”
+
+“Oh, I've talked with them, they don't know nothing,” said the sheriff.
+“No one don't know nothing.”
+
+“Please God, we may yet put our fingers on some villain who does,” said
+the judge.
+
+Outside it was noised about that judge Price had taken matters in
+hand--he was the old fellow who had been warned to keep his mouth shut,
+and who had never stopped talking since. A crowd collected beyond the
+library windows and feasted its eyes on the back of this hero's bald
+head.
+
+One by one the house servants were ushered into the judge's presence.
+First he interrogated little Steve, who had gone to Miss Betty's door
+that morning to rouse her, as was his custom. Next he examined Betty's
+maid; then the cook, and various house servants, who had nothing
+especial to tell, but told it at considerable length; and lastly big
+Steve.
+
+“Stop a bit,” the judge suddenly interrupted the butler in the midst of
+his narrative. “Does the overseer always come up to the house the first
+thing in the morning?”
+
+“Why, not exactly, Sah, but he come up this mo'ning, Sah. He was talking
+to me at the back of the house, when the women run out with the word
+that Missy was done gone away.”
+
+“He joined in the search?”
+
+“Yes, Sah.''
+
+“When was Miss Malroy seen last?” asked the judge.
+
+“She and the young gemman you fotched heah were seen in the gyarden
+along about sundown. I seen them myself.”
+
+“They had had supper?”
+
+“Yes, Sah.”
+
+“Who sleeps here?”
+
+“Just little Steve and three of the women, they sleeps at the back of
+the house, Sah.''
+
+“No sounds were heard during the night?”
+
+“No, Sah.”
+
+“I'll see the overseer--what's his name?--Hicks? Suppose you go for
+him!” said the judge, addressing the sheriff.
+
+The sheriff was gone from the room only a few moments, and returned
+with the information that Hicks was down at the bayou, which was to be
+dragged.
+
+“Why?” inquired the judge.
+
+“Hicks says Miss Malroy's been acting mighty queer ever since Charley
+Norton was shot--distracted like! He says he noticed it, and that Tom
+Ware noticed it.”
+
+“How does he explain the boy's disappearance?”
+
+“He reckons she throwed herself in, and the boy tried to drag her out,
+like he naturally would, and got drawed in.”
+
+“Humph! I'll trouble Mr. Hicks to step here,” said the judge quietly.
+
+“There's Mr. Carrington and a couple of strangers outside who've been
+asking about Miss Malroy and the boy, seems like the strangers knowed
+her and him back yonder in No'th Carolina,” said the sheriff as he
+turned away.
+
+“I'll see them.” The sheriff went from the room and the judge dismissed
+the servants.
+
+“Well, what do you think, Price?” asked Mahaffy anxiously when they were
+alone.
+
+“Rubbish! Take my word for it, Solomon, this blow is leveled at me. I
+have been too forward in my attempts to suppress the carnival of crime
+that is raging through west Tennessee. You'll observe that Miss Malroy
+disappeared at a moment when the public is disposed to think she has
+retained me as her legal adviser, probably she will be set at liberty
+when she agrees to drop the matter of Norton's murder. As for the boy,
+they'll use him to compel my silence and inaction.” The judge took a
+long breath. “Yet there remains one point where the boy is concerned
+that completely baffles me. If we knew just a little more of his
+antecedents it might cause me to make a startling and radical move.”
+
+Mahaffy was clearly not impressed by the vague generalities in which the
+judge was dealing.
+
+“There you go, Price, as usual, trying to convince yourself that you
+are the center of everything!” he said, in a tone of much exasperation.
+“Let's get down to business! What does this man Hicks mean by hinting at
+suicide? You saw Miss Malroy yesterday?”
+
+“You have put your finger on a point of some significance,” said the
+judge. “She bore evidence of the shock and loss she had sustained; aside
+from that she was quite as she has always been.”
+
+“Well, what do you want to see Hicks for? What do you expect to learn
+from him?”
+
+“I don't like his insistence on the idea that Miss Malroy is mentally
+unbalanced. It's a question of some delicacy--the law, sir, fully
+recognizes that. It seems to me he is overanxious to account for her
+disappearance in a manner that can compromise no one.”
+
+Here they were interrupted by the opening of the door, and big Steve
+admitted Carrington and the two men of whom the sheriff had spoken.
+
+“A shocking condition of affairs, Mr. Carrington!” said the judge by way
+of greeting.
+
+“Yes,” said Carrington shortly.
+
+“You left these parts some time ago, I believe?” continued the judge.
+
+“The day before Norton was shot. I had started home for Kentucky.
+I heard of his death when I reached Randolph on the second bluff,”
+ explained Carrington, from whose cheeks the weather-beaten bloom had
+faded. He rested his hand on the edge of the desk and turned to the men
+who had followed him into the room. “This is the gentleman you wish
+to see,” he said, and stepped to one of the windows; it overlooked the
+terraces where he had said good-by to Betty scarcely a week before.
+
+The two men had paused by the door. They now advanced. One was gaunt
+and haggard, his face disfigured by a great red scar, the other was a
+shockheaded individual who moved with a shambling gait. Both carried
+rifles and both were dressed in coarse homespun.
+
+“Morning, sir,” said the man with the scar. “Yancy's my name, and this
+gentleman 'lows he'd rather be known now as Mr. Cavendish.”
+
+The judge started to his feet.
+
+“Bob Yancy?” he cried.
+
+“Yes, sir, that's me.” The judge passed nimbly around the desk and shook
+the Scratch Hiller warmly by the hand. “Where's my nevvy, sir--what's
+all this about him and Miss Betty?” Yancy's soft drawl was suddenly
+eager.
+
+“Please God we'll recover him soon!” said the judge.
+
+By the window Carrington moved impatiently. No harm could come to the
+boy, but Betty--a shudder went through him.
+
+“They've stolen him.” Yancy spoke with conviction. “I reckon they've
+started back to No'th Carolina with him--only that don't explain what's
+come of Miss Betty, does it?” and he dropped rather helplessly into a
+chair.
+
+“Bob are just getting off a sick bed. He's been powerful porely in
+consequence of having his head laid open and then being throwed into
+the Elk River, where I fished him out,” explained Cavendish, who still
+continued to regard the judge with unmixed astonishment, first cocking
+his shaggy head on one side and then on the other, his bleached eyes
+narrowed to a slit. Now and then he favored the austere Mahaffy with a
+fleeting glance. He seemed intuitively to understand the comradeship of
+their degradation.
+
+“Mr. Cavendish fetched me here on his raft. We tied up to the sho' this
+morning. It was there we met Mr. Carrington--I'd knowed him slightly
+back yonder in No'th Carolina,” continued Yancy. “He said I'd find
+Hannibal with you. I was counting a heap on seeing my nevvy.”
+
+Carrington, no longer able to control himself, swung about on his heel.
+
+“What's been done?” he asked, with fierce repression. “What's going to
+be done? Don't you know that every second is precious?”
+
+“I am about to conclude my investigations, sir,” said the judge with
+dignity.
+
+Carrington stepped to the door. After all, what was there to expect of
+these men? Whatever their interest, it was plainly centered in the boy.
+He passed out into the hall.
+
+As the door closed on him the judge turned again to the Scratch Hiller.
+
+“Mr. Yancy, Mr. Mahaffy and I hold your nephew in the tenderest regard,
+he has been our constant companion ever since you were lost to him. In
+this crisis you may rely upon us; we are committed to his recovery,
+no matter what it involves.” The judge's tone was one of unalterable
+resolution.
+
+“I reckon you-all have been mighty good and kind to him,” said Yancy
+huskily.
+
+“We have endeavored to be, Mr. Yancy--indeed I had formed the resolution
+legally to adopt him should you not come to claim him. I should have
+given him my name, and made him my heir. His education has already
+begun, under my supervision,” and the judge, remembering the high use to
+which he had dedicated one of Pegloe's trade labels, fairly glowed with
+philanthropic fervor.
+
+“Think of that!” murmured Yancy softly. He was deeply moved. So was Mr.
+Cavendish, who was gifted with a wealth of ready sympathy. He thrust out
+a hardened hand to the judge.
+
+“Shake!” he said. “You're a heap better than you look.” A thin ripple
+of laughter escaped Mahaffy, but the judge accepted Chills and Fever's
+proffered hand. He understood that here was a simple genuine soul.
+
+“Price, isn't it important for us to know why Mr. Yancy thinks the boy
+has been taken back to North Carolina?” said Mahaffy.
+
+“Just what kin is Hannibal to you, Mr. Yancy?” asked the judge resuming
+his seat.
+
+“Strictly speaking, he ain't none. That he come to live with me is all
+owing to Mr. Crenshaw, who's a good man when left to himself, but he's
+got a wife, so a body may say he never is left to himself,” began Yancy;
+and then briefly he told the story of the woman and the child much as
+he had told it to Bladen at the Barony the day of General Quintard's
+funeral.
+
+The judge, his back to the light and his face in shadow, rested his
+left elbow on the desk and with his chin sunk in his palm, followed the
+Scratch Hiller's narrative with the closest attention.
+
+“And General Quintard never saw him--never manifested any interest in
+him?” the words came slowly from the judge's lips, he seemed to gulp
+down something that rose in his throat. “Poor little lad!” he muttered,
+and again, “Poor little lad!”
+
+“Never once, sir. He told the slaves to keep him out of his sight.
+We-all wondered, fo' you know how niggers will talk. We thought maybe he
+was some kin to the Quintards, but we couldn't figure out how. The old
+general never had but one child and she had been dead fo' years. The
+child couldn't have been hers no how.” Yancy paused.
+
+The judge drummed idly on the desk.
+
+“What implacable hate--what iron pride!” he murmured, and swept his hand
+across his eyes. Absorbed and aloof, he was busy with his thoughts
+that spanned the waste of years, years that seemed to glide before him in
+review, each bitter with its hideous memories of shame and defeat. Then
+from the smoke of these lost battles emerged the lonely figure of the
+child as he had seen him that June night. His ponderous arm stiffened
+where it rested on the desk, he straightened up in his chair and his
+face assumed its customary expression of battered dignity, while a smile
+at once wistful and tender hovered about his lips.
+
+“One other question,” he said. “Until this man Murrell appeared you
+had no trouble with Bladen? He was content that you should keep the
+child--your right to Hannibal was never challenged?”
+
+“Never, sir. All my troubles began about that time.”
+
+“Murrell belongs in these parts,” said the judge.
+
+“I'd admire fo' to meet him,” said Yancy quietly.
+
+The judge grinned.
+
+“I place my professional services at your disposal,” he said. “Yours is
+a clear case of felonious assault.”
+
+“No, it ain't, sir--I look at it this-a-ways; it's a clear case of my
+giving him the damnedest sort of a body beating!”
+
+“Sir,” said the judge, “I'll hold your hat while you are about it!”
+
+Hicks had taken his time in responding to the judge's summons, but now
+his step sounded in the hall and throwing open the door he entered
+the room. Whether consciously or not he had acquired something of that
+surly, forbidding manner which was characteristic of his employer. A
+curt nod of the head was his only greeting.
+
+“Will you sit down?” asked the judge. Hicks signified by another
+movement of the head that he would not. “This is a very dreadful
+business!” began the judge softly.
+
+“Ain't it?” agreed Hicks. “What you got to say to me?” he added
+petulantly.
+
+“Have you started to drag the bayou?” asked the judge. Hicks nodded.
+“That was your idea?” suggested the judge.
+
+“No, it wa'n't,” objected Hicks quickly. “But I said she had been actin'
+like she was plumb distracted ever since Charley Norton got shot--”
+
+“How?” inquired the judge, arching his eyebrows. Hicks was plainly
+disturbed by the question.
+
+“Sort of out of her head. Mr. Ware seen it, too--”
+
+“He spoke of it?”
+
+“Yes, sir; him and me discussed it together.”
+
+The judge regarded Hicks long and intently and in, silence. His
+magnificent mind was at work. If Betty had been distraught he had not
+observed any sign of it the previous day. If Ware were better informed
+as to her true mental state why had he chosen this time to go to
+Memphis?
+
+“I suppose Mr. Ware asked you to keep an eye on Miss Malroy while he was
+away from home?” said the judge. Hicks, suspicious of the drift of his
+questioning, made no answer. “I suppose you told the house servants to
+keep her under observation?” continued the judge.
+
+“I don't talk to no niggers,” replied Hicks, “except to give 'em my
+orders.”
+
+“Well, did you give them that order?”
+
+“No, I didn't.”
+
+The sudden and hurried entrance of big Steve brought the judge's
+examination of Mr. Hicks to a standstill.
+
+“Mas'r, you know dat 'ar coachman George--the big black fellow dat took
+you into town las' evenin'? I jes' been down at Shanty Hill whar Milly,
+his wife, is carryin' on something scandalous 'cause George ain't never
+come home!” Steve was laboring under intense excitement, but he ignored
+the presence of the overseer and addressed himself to Slocum Price.
+
+“Well, what of that?” cried Hicks quickly.
+
+“Thar warn't no George, mind you, Mas'r, but dar was his team in de
+stable this mo'ning and lookin' mighty nigh done up with hard driving.”
+
+“Yes.” interrupted Hicks uneasily; “put a pair of lines in a nigger's
+hands and he'll run any team off its legs!”
+
+“An' the kerriage all scratched up from bein' thrashed through the
+bushes,” added Steve.
+
+“There's a nigger for you!” said Hicks. “She took the rascal out of the
+field, dressed him like he was a gentleman and pampered him up, and now
+first chance he gets he runs off!”
+
+“Ah!” said the judge softly. “Then you knew this?”
+
+“Of course I knew--wa'n't it my business to know? I reckon he was off
+skylarking, and when he'd seen the mess he'd made, the trifling fool
+took to the woods. Well, he catches it when I lay hands on him!”
+
+“Do you know when and under what circumstances the team was stabled, Mr.
+Hicks?” inquired the judge.
+
+“No, I don't, but I reckon it must have been along after dark,” said
+Hicks unwillingly. “I seen to the feeding just after sundown like I
+always do, then I went to supper,” Hicks vouchsafed to explain.
+
+“And no one saw or heard the team drive in?”
+
+“Not as I know of,” said Hicks.
+
+“Mas'r Ca'ington's done gone off to get a pack of dawgs--he 'lows hit's
+might' important to find what's come of George,” said Steve.
+
+Hicks started violently at this piece of news.
+
+“I reckon he'll have to travel a right smart distance to find a pack of
+dogs,” he muttered. “I don't know of none this side of Colonel Bates'
+down below Girard.”
+
+The judge was lost in thought. He permitted an interval of silence to
+elapse in which Hicks' glance slid round in a furtive circle.
+
+“When did Mr. Ware set out for Memphis?” asked the judge at length.
+
+“Early yesterday. He goes there pretty often on business.”
+
+“You talked with Mr. Ware before he left?” Hicks nodded. “Did he speak
+of Miss Malroy?” Hicks shook his head. “Did you see her during the
+afternoon?”
+
+“No--maybe you think these niggers ain't enough to keep a man stirring?”
+ said Hicks uneasily and with a scowl. The judge noticed both the
+uneasiness and the scowl.
+
+“I should imagine they would absorb every moment of your time, Mr.
+Hicks,” he agreed affably.
+
+“A man's got to be a hog for work to hold a job like mine,” said Hicks
+sourly.
+
+“But it came to your notice that Miss Malroy has been in a disturbed
+mental state ever since Mr. Norton's murder? I am interested in this
+point, Mr. Hicks, because your experience is so entirely at variance
+with my own. It was my privilege to see and speak with her yesterday
+afternoon; I was profoundly impressed by her naturalness and composure.”
+ The judge smiled, then he leaned forward across the desk. “What were you
+doing up here early this morning--hasn't a hog for work like you got
+any business of his own at that hour?” The judge's tone was suddenly
+offensive.
+
+“Look here, what right have you got to try and pump me?” cried Hicks.
+
+For no discernible reason Mr. Cavendish spat on his palms.
+
+“Mr. Hicks,” said the judge, urbane and gracious, “I believe in
+frankness.”
+
+“Sure,” agreed Hicks, mollified by the judge's altered tone.
+
+“Therefore I do not hesitate to say that I consider you a damned
+scoundrel!” concluded the judge.
+
+Mr. Cavendish, accepting the judge's ultimatum as something which
+must debar Hicks from all further consideration, and being, as he was,
+exceedingly active and energetic by nature, if one passed over the
+various forms of gainful industry, uttered a loud whoop and threw
+himself on the overseer. There was a brief struggle and Hicks went down
+with the Earl of Lambeth astride of him; then from his boot leg that
+knightly soul flashed a horn-handled tickler of formidable dimensions.
+
+The judge, Yancy, and Mahaffy, sprang from their chairs. Mr. Mahaffy was
+plainly shocked at the spectacle of Mr. Cavendish's lawless violence.
+Yancy was disturbed too, but not by the moral aspects of the case; he
+was doubtful as to just how his friend's act would appeal to the judge.
+He need not have been distressed on that score, since the judge's one
+idea was to profit by it. With his hands on his knees he was now bending
+above the two men.
+
+“What do you want to know, judge?” cried Cavendish, panting from his
+exertions. “I'll learn this parrot to talk up!”
+
+“Hicks,” said the judge, “it is in your power to tell us a few things we
+are here to find out.” Hicks looked up into the judge's face and closed
+his lips grimly. “Mr. Cavendish, kindly let him have the point of that
+large knife where he'll feel it most!” ordered the judge.
+
+“Talk quick!” said Cavendish with a ferocious scowl. “Talk--or what's
+to hinder me slicing open your woozen?” and he pressed the blade of his
+knife against the overseer's throat.
+
+“I don't know anything about Miss Betty,” said Hicks in a sullen
+whisper.
+
+“Maybe you don't, but what do you know about the boy?” Hicks was silent,
+but he was grateful for the judge's question. From Tom Ware he had
+learned of Fentress' interest in the boy. Why should he shelter the
+colonel at risk to himself? “If you please, Mr. Cavendish!” said the
+judge quietly nodding toward the knife.
+
+“You didn't ask me about him,” said Hicks quickly.
+
+“I do now,” said the judge.
+
+“He was here yesterday.”
+
+“Mr. Cavendish--” and again the judge glanced toward the knife.
+
+“Wait!” cried Hicks. “You go to Colonel Fentress.”
+
+“Let him up, Mr. Cavendish; that's all we want to mow,” said the judge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. COLONEL FENTRESS
+
+
+The judge had not forgotten his ghost, the ghost he had seen in Mr.
+Saul's office that day he went to the court-house on business for
+Charley Norton. Working or idling--principally the latter--drunk or
+sober--principally the former--the ghost, otherwise Colonel Fentress,
+had preserved a place in his thoughts, and now as he moved stolidly up
+the drive toward Fentress' big white house on the hill with Mahaffy,
+Cavendish, and Yancy trailing in his wake, memories of what had once
+been living and vital crowded in upon him. Some sense of the wreck that
+littered the long years, and the shame of the open shame that had swept
+away pride and self-respect, came back to him out of the past.
+
+He only paused when he stood on the portico before Fentress' open door.
+He glanced about him at the wide fields, bounded by the distant timber
+lands that hid gloomy bottoms, at the great log barns in the hollow to
+his right; at the huddle of whitewashed cabins beyond; then with his
+big fist he reached in and pounded on the door. The blows echoed loudly
+through the silent house, and an instant later Fentress' tall, spare
+figure was seen advancing from the far end of the hall.
+
+“Who is it?” he asked.
+
+“Judge Price--Colonel Fentress'' said the judge.
+
+“Judge Price,” uncertainly, and still advancing.
+
+“I had flattered myself that you must have heard of me,” said the judge.
+
+“I think I have,” said Fentress, pausing now.
+
+“He thinks he has!” muttered the judge under his breath.
+
+“Will you come in?” it was more a question than an invitation.
+
+“If you are at liberty.” The colonel bowed. “Allow me,” the judge
+continued. “Colonel Fentress--Mr. Mahaffy, Mr. Yancy and Mr. Cavendish.”
+ Again the colonel bowed.
+
+“Will you step into the library?”
+
+“Very good,” and the judge followed the colonel briskly down the hall.
+
+When they entered the library Fentress turned and took stock of his
+guests. Mahaffy he had seen before; Yancy and Cavendish were of course
+strangers to him, but their appearance explained them; last of all his
+glance shifted to the judge. He had heard something of those activities
+by means of which Slocum Price had striven to distinguish himself,
+and he had a certain curiosity respecting the man. It was immediately
+satisfied. The judge had reached a degree of shabbiness seldom equaled,
+and but for his mellow, effulgent personality might well have passed
+for a common vagabond; and if his dress advertised the state of his
+finances, his face explained his habits. No misconception was possible
+about either.
+
+“May I offer you a glass of liquor?” asked Fentress, breaking the
+silence. He stepped to the walnut centertable where there was a decanter
+and glasses. By a gesture the judge declined the invitation. Whereat
+the colonel looked surprised, but not so surprised as Mahaffy. There was
+another silence.
+
+“I don't think we ever met before?” observed Fentress. There was
+something in the fixed stare his visitor was bending upon him that he
+found disquieting, just why, he could not have told.
+
+But that fixed stare of the judge's continued. No, the man had
+not changed--he had grown older certainly, but age had not come
+ungracefully; he became the glossy broadcloth and spotless linen he
+wore. Here was a man who could command the good things of life, using
+them with a rational temperance. The room itself was in harmony with
+his character; it was plain but rich in its appointments, at once his
+library and his office, while the well-filled cases ranged about the
+walls showed his tastes to be in the main scholarly and intellectual.
+
+“How long have you lived here?” asked the judge abruptly. Fentress
+seemed to hesitate; but the judge's glance, compelling and insistent,
+demanded an answer.
+
+“Ten years.”
+
+“You have known many men of all classes as a lawyer and a planter?” said
+the judge. Fentress inclined his head. The judge took a step nearer
+him. “People have a great trick of coming and going in these western
+states--all sorts of damned riffraff drift in and out of these new
+lands.” A deadly earnestness lifted the judge's words above mere
+rudeness. Fentress, cold and distant, made no reply. “For the
+past twenty years I have been looking for a man by the name of
+Gatewood--David Gatewood.” Disciplined as he was, the colonel started
+violently. “Ever heard of him, Fentress?” demanded the judge with a
+savage scowl.
+
+“What's all this to me?” The words came with a gasp from Fentress'
+twitching lips. The judge looked at him moody and frowning.
+
+“I have reason to think this man Gatewood came to west Tennessee,” he
+said.
+
+“If so, I have never heard of him.”
+
+“Perhaps not under that name--at any rate you are going to hear of
+him now. This man Gatewood, who between ourselves was a damned
+scoundrel”--the colonel winced--“this man Gatewood had a friend who
+threw money and business in his way--a planter he was, same as Gatewood.
+A sort of partnership existed between the pair. It proved an expensive
+enterprise for Gatewood's friend, since he came to trust the damned
+scoundrel more and more as time passed--even large sums of his money
+were in Gatewood's hands--” the judge paused. Fentress' countenance was
+like stone, as expressionless and as rigid.
+
+By the door stood Mahaffy with Yancy and Cavendish; they understood that
+what was obscure and meaningless to them held a tragic significance
+to these two men. The judge's heavy face, ordinarily battered and
+debauched, but infinitely good-natured, bore now the markings of deep
+passion, and the voice that rumbled forth from his capacious chest came
+to their ears like distant thunder.
+
+“This friend of Gatewood's had a wife--” The judge's voice broke,
+emotion shook him like a leaf, he was tearing open his wounds. He
+reached over and poured himself a drink, sucking it down with greedy
+lips. “There was a wife--” he whirled about on his heel and faced
+Fentress again. “There was a wife, Fentress--” he fixed Fentress with
+his blazing eyes.
+
+“A wife and child. Well, one day Gatewood and the wife were missing.
+Under the circumstances Gatewood's friend was well rid of the pair--he
+should have been grateful, but he wasn't, for his wife took his child,
+a daughter; and Gatewood a trifle of thirty thousand dollars his friend
+had intrusted to him!”
+
+There was another silence.
+
+“At a later day I met this man who had been betrayed by his wife and
+robbed by his friend. He had fallen out of the race--drink had done for
+him--there was just one thing he seemed to care about and that was the
+fate of his child, but maybe he was only curious there. He wondered if
+she had lived, and married--” Once more the judge paused.
+
+“What's all this to me?” asked Fentress.
+
+“Are you sure it's nothing to you?” demanded the judge hoarsely.
+“Understand this, Fentress. Gatewood's treachery brought ruin to at
+least two lives. It caused the woman's father to hide his face from the
+world, it wasn't enough for him that his friends believed his daughter
+dead; he knew differently and the shame of that knowledge ate into his
+soul. It cost the husband his place in the world, too--in the end it
+made of him a vagabond and a penniless wanderer.”
+
+“This is nothing to me,” said Fentress.
+
+“Wait!” cried the judge. “About six years ago the woman was seen at her
+father's home in North Carolina. I reckon Gatewood had cast her off. She
+didn't go back empty-handed. She had run away from her husband with a
+child--a girl; after a lapse of twenty years she returned to her
+father with a boy of two or three. There are two questions that must be
+answered when I find Gatewood: what became of the woman and what became
+of the child; are they living or dead; did the daughter grow up and
+marry and have a son? When I get my answer it will be time enough to
+think of Gatewood's punishment!” The judge leaned forward across the
+table, bringing his face close to Fentress' face. “Look at me--do you
+know me now?”
+
+But Fentress' expression never altered. The judge fell back a step.
+
+“Fentress, I want the boy,” he said quietly.
+
+“What boy?”
+
+“My grandson.”
+
+“You are mad! What do I know of him--or you?” Fentress was gaining
+courage from the sound of his own voice.
+
+“You know who he is and where he is. Your business relations with
+General Ware have put you on the track of the Quintard lands in this
+state. You intend to use the boy to gather them in.”
+
+“You're mad!” repeated Fentress.
+
+“Unless you bring him to me inside of twenty-four hours I'll smash
+you!” roared the judge. “Your name isn't Fentress, it's Gatewood; you've
+stolen the name of Fentress, just as you have stolen other things.
+What's come of Turberville's wife and child? What's come of
+Turberville's money? Damn your soul! I want my grandson! I'll pull you
+down and leave you stripped and bare! I'll tell the world the false
+friend you've been--the thief you are! I'll strip you and turn you out
+of these doors as naked as when you entered the world!” The judge seemed
+to tower above Fentress, the man had shot up out of his deep debasement.
+“Choose! Choose!” he thundered, his shaggy brows bent in a menacing
+frown.
+
+“I know nothing about the boy,” said Fentress slowly.
+
+“By God, you lie!” stormed the judge.
+
+“I know nothing about the boy,” and Fentress took a step toward the
+door.
+
+“Stay where you are!” commanded the judge. “If you attempt to leave this
+room to call your niggers I'll kill you on its threshold!”
+
+But Yancy and Cavendish had stepped to the door with an intention that
+was evident, and Fentress' thin face cast itself in haggard lines. He
+was feeling the judge's terrible capacity, his unexpected ability to
+deal with a supreme situation. Even Mahaffy gazed at his friend in
+wonder. He had only seen him spend himself on trifles, with no further
+object than the next meal or the next drink; he had believed that as
+he knew him so he had always been, lax and loose of tongue and deed,
+a noisy tavern hero, but now he saw that he was filling what must have
+been the measure of his manhood.
+
+“I tell you I had no hand in carrying off the boy,” said Fentress with a
+sardonic smile.
+
+“I look to you to return him. Stir yourself, Gatewood, or by God, I'll
+hold so fierce a reckoning with you--”
+
+The sentence remained unfinished, for Fentress felt his overwrought
+nerves snap, and giving way to a sudden blind fury struck at the judge.
+
+“We are too old for rough and tumble,” said the judge, who had displayed
+astonishing agility in avoiding the blow. “Furthermore we were once
+gentlemen. At present I am what I am, while you are a hound and a
+blackguard! We'll settle this as becomes our breeding.” He poured
+himself a second glass of liquor from Fentress' decanter. “I wonder
+if it is possible to insult you,” and he tossed glass and contents in
+Fentress' face. The colonel's thin features were convulsed. The judge
+watched him with a scornful curling of the lips. “I am treating you
+better than you deserve,” he taunted.
+
+“To-morrow morning at sun-up at Boggs' racetrack!” cried Fentress. The
+judge bowed with splendid courtesy.
+
+“Nothing could please me half so well,” he declared. He turned to the
+others. “Gentlemen, this is a private matter. When I have met Colonel
+Fentress I shall make a public announcement of why this appeared
+necessary to me; until then I trust this matter will not be given
+publicity. May I ask your silence?” He bowed again, and abruptly passed
+from the room.
+
+His three friends followed in his steps, leaving Fentress standing by
+the table, the ghost of a smile on his thin lips.
+
+As if the very place were evil, the judge hurried down the drive toward
+the road. At the gate he paused and turned on his companions, but his
+features wore a look of dignity that forbade comment or question. He
+held out his hand to Yancy.
+
+“Sir,” he said, “if I could command the riches of the Indies, it would
+tax my resources to meet the fractional part of my obligations to you.”
+
+“Think of that!” said Yancy, as much overwhelmed by the judge's manner
+as by his words.
+
+“His Uncle Bob shall keep his place in my grandson's life! We'll watch
+him grow into manhood together.” The judge was visibly affected. A smile
+of deep content parted Mr. Yancy's lips as his muscular fingers closed
+about the judge's hand with crushing force.
+
+“Whoop!” cried Cavendish, delighted at this recognition of Yancy's love
+for the boy, and he gleefully smote the austere Mahaffy on the shoulder.
+But Mahaffy was dumb in the presence of the decencies, he quite lacked
+an interpreter. The judge looked back at the house.
+
+“Mine!” he muttered. “The clothes he stands in, the food he eats--mine!
+Mine!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. THE BUBBLE BURSTS
+
+
+At about the same hour that the judge was hurling threats and insults at
+Colonel Fentress, three men were waiting ten miles away at the head
+of the bayou which served to isolate Hicks' cabin. Now no one of these
+three had ever heard of Judge Slocum Price; the breath of his fame had
+never blown, however gently, in their direction, yet they were preparing
+to thrust opportunity upon him. To this end they were lounging about the
+opening in the woods where the horses belonging to Ware and Murrell were
+tied.
+
+At length the dip of oars became audible in the silence and one of
+the trio stole down the path, a matter of fifty yards, to a point that
+overlooked the bayou. He was gone but a moment.
+
+“It's Murrell all right!” he said in an eager whisper. “Him and another
+fellow--the Hicks girl is rowing them.” He glanced from one to the other
+of his companions, who seemed to take firmer hold of themselves under
+his eye. “It'll be all right,” he protested lightly. “He's as good
+as ours. Wait till I give you the word.” And he led the way into an
+adjacent thicket.
+
+Meantime Ware and Murrell had landed and were coming along the path, the
+outlaw a step or two in advance of his friend. They reached the horses
+and were untying them when the thicket suddenly disgorged the three men;
+each held a cocked pistol; two of these pistols covered Murrell and the
+third was leveled at Ware.
+
+“Hues!” cried Murrell in astonishment, for the man confronting him was
+the Clan's messenger who should have been speeding across the state.
+
+“Toss up your hands, Murrell,” said Hues quietly.
+
+One of the other men spoke.
+
+“You are under arrest!”
+
+“Arrest!”
+
+“You are wanted for nigger-stealing,” said the man. Still Murrell did
+not seem to comprehend. He looked at Hues in dull wonder.
+
+“What are you doing here?” he asked.
+
+“Waiting to arrest you--ain't that plain?” said Hues, with a grim smile.
+
+The outlaw's hands dropped at his side, limp and helpless. With some
+idea that he might attempt to draw a weapon one of the men took hold of
+him, but Murrell was nerveless to his touch; his face had gone a ghastly
+white and was streaked with the markings of terror.
+
+“Well, by thunder!” cried the man in utter amazement.
+
+Murrell looked into Hues' face.
+
+“You--you--” and the words thickened on his tongue becoming an
+inarticulate murmur.
+
+“It's all up, John,” said Hues.
+
+“No!” said Murrell, recovering himself. “You may as well turn me
+loose--you can't arrest me!”
+
+“I've done it,” answered Hues, with a laugh. “I've been on your track
+for six months.”
+
+“How about this fellow?” asked the man, whose pistol still covered Ware.
+Hues glanced toward the planter and shook his head.
+
+“Where are you going to take me?” asked Murrell quickly. Again Hues
+laughed.
+
+“You'll find that out in plenty of time, and then your friends can pass
+the word around if they like; now you'll come with me!”
+
+Ware neither moved nor spoke as Hues and his prisoner passed back along
+the path, Hues with his hand on Murrell's shoulder, and one of his
+companions close at his heels, while the third man led off the outlaw's
+horse.
+
+Presently the distant clatter of hoofs was borne to Ware's ears--only
+that; the miracle of courage and daring he had half expected had not
+happened. Murrell, for all his wild boasting, was like other men, like
+himself. His bloodshot eyes slid around in their sockets. There across
+the sunlit stretch of water was Betty--the thought of her brought him
+to quick choking terrors. The whole fabric of crime by which he had been
+benefited in the past or had expected to profit in the future seemed
+toppling in upon him, but his mind clutched one important fact. Hues, if
+he knew of Betty's disappearance, did not connect Murrell with it. Ware
+sucked in comfort between his twitching lips. Stealing niggers! No one
+would believe that he, a planter, had a hand in that, and for a brief
+instant he considered signaling Bess to return. Slosson must be told
+of Murrell's arrest; but he was sick with apprehension, some trap might
+have been prepared for him, he could not know; and the impulse to act
+forsook him.
+
+He smote his hands together in a hopeless, beaten gesture. And Murrell
+had gone weak--with his own eyes he had seen it--Murrell--whom he
+believed without fear! He felt that he had been grievously betrayed in
+his trust and a hot rage poured through him. At last he climbed into the
+saddle, and swaying like a drunken man, galloped off.
+
+When he reached the river road he paused and scanned its dusty surface.
+Hues and his party had turned south when they issued from the wood path.
+No doubt Murrell was being taken to Memphis. Ware laughed harshly. The
+outlaw would be free before another dawn broke.
+
+He had halted near where Jim had turned his team the previous night
+after Betty and Hannibal had left the carriage; the marks of the wheels
+were as plainly distinguishable as the more recent trail left by the
+four men, and as he grasped the significance of that wide half circle
+his sense of injury overwhelmed him again. He hoped to live to see
+Murrell hanged!
+
+He was so completely lost in his bitter reflections that he had been
+unaware of a mounted man who was coming toward him at a swift gallop,
+but now he heard the steady pounding of hoofs and, startled by the
+sound, looked up. A moment later the horseman drew rein at his side.
+
+“Ware!” he cried.
+
+“How are you, Carrington?” said the planter.
+
+“You are wanted at Belle Plain,” began Carrington, and seemed to
+hesitate.
+
+“Yes--yes, I am going there at once--now--” stammered Ware, and gathered
+up his reins with a shaking hand.
+
+“You've heard, I take it?” said Carrington slowly.
+
+“Yes,” answered Ware, in a hoarse whisper. “My God, Carrington, I'm
+heart sick; she has been like a daughter to me!” he fell silent mopping
+his face.
+
+“I think I understand your feeling,” said Carrington, giving him a level
+glance.
+
+“Then you'll excuse me,” and the planter clapped spurs to his horse.
+Once he looked back over his shoulder; he saw that Carrington had not
+moved from the spot where they had met.
+
+At Belle Plain, Ware found his neighbors in possession of the place.
+They greeted him quietly and spoke in subdued tones of their sympathy.
+The planter listened with an air of such abject misery that those who
+had neither liked nor respected him, were roused to a sudden generous
+feeling where he was concerned, they could not question but that he was
+deeply affected. After all the man might have a side to his nature with
+which they had never come in contact.
+
+When he could he shut himself in his room. He had experienced a day of
+maddening anxiety, he had not slept at all the previous night, in mind
+and body he was worn out; and now he was plunged into the thick of this
+sensation. He must keep control of himself, for every word he said would
+be remembered. In the present there was sympathy for him, but sooner or
+later people would return to their sordid unemotional judgments.
+
+He sought to forecast the happenings of the next few hours. Murrell's
+friends would break jail for him, that was a foregone conclusion, but
+the insurrection he had planned was at an end. Hues had dealt its death
+blow. Moreover, though the law might be impotent to deal with Murrell,
+he could not hope to escape the vengeance of the powerful class he had
+plotted to destroy; he would have to quit the country. Ware gloated in
+this idea of craven flight. Thank God, he had seen the last of him!
+
+But as always his thoughts came back to Betty. Slosson would wait at
+the Hicks' place for the man Murrell had promised him, and failing this
+messenger, for the signal fire, but there would be neither; and Slosson
+would be left to determine his own course of action. Ware felt certain
+that he would wait through the night, but as sure as the morning broke,
+if no word had reached him, he would send one of his men across the
+bayou, who must learn of Murrell's arrest, escape, flight--for in Ware's
+mind these three events were indissolubly associated. The planter's
+teeth knocked together. He was having a terrible acquaintance with fear,
+its very depths had swallowed him up; it was a black pit in which he
+sank from horror to horror. He had lost all faith in the Clan which
+had terrorized half a dozen states, which had robbed and murdered with
+apparent impunity, which had marketed its hundreds of stolen slaves. He
+had utterly collapsed at the first blow dealt the organization, but he
+was still seeing Murrell, pallid and shaken.
+
+A step sounded in the hall and an instant later Hicks entered the room
+without the formality of knocking. Ware recognized his presence with
+a glance of indifference, but did not speak. Hicks slouched to his
+employer's side and handed him a note which proved to be from Fentress.
+Ware read and tossed it aside.
+
+“If he wants to see me why don't he come here?” he growled.
+
+“I reckon that old fellow they call Judge Price has sprung something
+sudden on the colonel,” said Hicks.
+
+“He was out here the first thing this morning; you'd have thought he
+owned Belle Plain. There was a couple of strangers with him, and he had
+me in and fired questions at me for half an hour, then he hiked off up
+to The Oaks.”
+
+“Murrell's been arrested,” said Ware in a dull level voice. Hicks gave
+him a glance of unmixed astonishment.
+
+“No!” he cried.
+
+“Yes, by God!”
+
+“Who'd risk it?”
+
+“Risk it? Man, he almost fainted dead away--a damned coward. Hell!”
+
+“How do you know this?” asked Hicks, appalled.
+
+“I was with him when he was taken--it was Hues the man he trusted more
+than any other!” Ware gave the overseer a ghastly grin and was silent,
+but in that silence he heard the drumming of his own heart. He went on.
+“I tell you to save himself John Murrell will implicate the rest of us;
+we've got to get him free, and then, by hell--we ought to knock him in
+the head; he isn't fit to live!”
+
+“The jail ain't built that'll hold him!!” muttered Hicks.
+
+“Of course, he can't be held,” agreed Ware. “And 'he'll never be brought
+to trial; no lawyer will dare appear against him, no jury will dare find
+him guilty; but there's Hues, what about him?” He paused. The two men
+looked at each other for a long moment.
+
+“Where did they carry the captain?” inquired Hicks.
+
+“I don't know.”
+
+“It looks like the Clan was in a hell-fired hole--but shucks! What
+will be easier than to fix Hues?--and while they're fixing folks they'd
+better not overlook that old fellow Price. He's got some notion about
+Fentress and the boy.” Mr. Hicks did not consider it necessary to
+explain that he was himself largely responsible for this.
+
+“How do you know that?” demanded Ware.
+
+“He as good as said so.” Hicks looked uneasily at the planter. He knew
+himself to be compromised. The stranger named Cavendish had forced an
+admission from him that Murrell would not condone if it came to his
+knowledge. He had also acquired a very proper and wholesome fear of
+Judge Slocum Price. He stepped close to Ware's side. “What'll come of
+the girl, Tom? Can you figure that out?” he questioned, sinking his
+voice almost to a whisper. But Ware was incapable of speech, again
+his terrors completely overwhelmed him. “I reckon you'll have to find
+another overseer. I'm going to strike out for Texas,” said Hicks.
+
+Ware's eyes met his for an instant. He had thought of flight, too, was
+still thinking of it, but greed was as much a part of his nature as
+fear; Belle Plain was a prize not to be lightly cast aside, and it was
+almost his. He lurched across the room to the window. If he were going
+to act, the sooner he did so the better, and gain a respite from his
+fears. The road down the coast slid away before his heavy eyes, he
+marked each turn; then a palsy of fear shook him, his heart beat against
+his ribs, and he stood gnawing his lips while he gazed up at the sun.
+
+“Do you get what I say, Tom? I am going to quit these parts,” said
+Hicks. Ware turned slowly from the window.
+
+“All right, Hicks. You mean you want me to settle with you, is that it?”
+ he asked.
+
+“Yes, I'm going to leave while I can, maybe I can't later on,” said
+Hicks stolidly. He added: “I am going to start down the coast as soon
+as it turns dark, and before it's day again I'll have put the good miles
+between me and these parts.”
+
+“You're going down the coast?” and Ware was again conscious of the
+quickened beating of his heart. Hicks nodded. “See you don't meet up
+with John Murrell,” said Ware.
+
+“I'll take that chance. It seems a heap better to me than staying here.”
+
+Ware looked from the window. The shadows were lengthening across the
+lawn.
+
+“Better start now, Hicks,” he advised.
+
+“I'll wait until it turns dark.”
+
+“You'll need a horse.”
+
+“I was going to help myself to one. This ain't no time to stand on
+ceremony,” said Hicks shortly.
+
+“Slosson shouldn't be left in the lurch like this--or your brother's
+folks--”
+
+“They'll have to figure it out for themselves same as me,” rejoined
+Hicks.
+
+“You can stop there as you go by.”
+
+“No,” said Hicks; “I never did believe in this damn foolishness about
+the girl, and I won't go near George's--”
+
+“I don't ask you to go there, you can give them the signal from the
+head of the bayou. All I want is for you to stop and light a fire on
+the shore. They'll know what that means. I'll give you a horse and fifty
+dollars for the job.”
+
+Hicks' eyes sparkled, but he only said
+
+“Make it twice that and maybe we can deal.”
+
+Racked and tortured, Ware hesitated; but the sun was slipping into the
+west, his windows blazed with the hot light.
+
+“You swear you'll do your part?” he said thickly. He took his purse from
+his pocket and counted out the amount due Hicks. He named the total, and
+paused irresolutely.
+
+“Don't you want the fire lighted?” asked Hicks. He was familiar with his
+employer's vacillating moods.
+
+“Yes,” answered Ware, his lips quivering; and slowly, with shaking
+fingers, he added to the pile of bills in Hicks' hand.
+
+“Well, take care of yourself,” said Hicks, when the count was complete.
+He thrust the roll of bills into his pocket and moved to the door.
+
+Alone again, the planter collapsed into his chair, breathing heavily,
+but his terrors swept over him and left him with a savage sense of
+triumph. This passed, he sprang up, intending to recall Hicks and unmake
+his bargain. What had he been thinking of--safety lay only in flight!
+Before he reached the door his greed was in the ascendant. He dropped
+down on the edge of his bed, his eyes fixed on the window. The sun sank
+lower. From where he sat he saw it through the upper half of the sash,
+blood-red and livid in a mist of fleecy clouds.
+
+It was in the tops of the old oaks now, which sent their shadows into
+his room. Again maddened by his terrors he started up and backed toward
+the door; but again his greed, the one dominating influence in his life,
+vanquished him.
+
+He watched the sun sink. He watched the red splendor fade over the
+river; he saw the first stars appear. He told himself that Hicks would
+soon be gone--if the fire was not to be lighted he must act at once!
+He stole to the window. It was dusk now, yet he could distinguish the
+distant wooded boundaries of the great fields framed by the darkening
+sky. Then in the silence he heard the thud of hoofs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. THE KEEL BOAT
+
+
+“PRICE,” began Mahaffy. They were back in Raleigh in the room the judge
+called his office, and this was Mahaffy's first opportunity to ease his
+mind on the subject of the duel, as they had only just parted from Yancy
+and Cavendish, who had stopped at one of the stores to make certain
+purchases for the raft.
+
+“Not a word, Solomon--it had to come. I am going to kill him. I shall
+feel better then.”
+
+“What if he kills you?” demanded Mahaffy harshly. The judge shrugged his
+shoulders.
+
+“That is as it may be.”
+
+“Have you forgotten your grandson?” Mahaffy's voice was still harsh and
+rasping.
+
+“I regard my meeting with Fentress as nothing less than a sacred duty to
+him.”
+
+“We know no more than we did this morning,” said Mahaffy. “You are
+mixing up all sorts of side issues with what should be your real
+purpose.”
+
+“Not at all, Solomon--not at all! I look upon my grandson's speedy
+recovery as an assured fact. Fentress dare not hold him. He knows he is
+run to earth at last.”
+
+“Price--”
+
+“No, Solomon--no, my friend, we will not speak of it again. You will
+go back to Belle Plain with Yancy and Cavendish; you must represent me
+there. We have as good as found Hannibal, but we must be active in Miss
+Malroy's behalf. For us that has an important bearing on the future, and
+since I can not, you must be at Belle Plain when Carrington arrives
+with his pack of dogs. Give him the advantage of your sound and
+mature judgment, Solomon; don't let any false modesty keep you in the
+background.”
+
+“Who's going to second you?” snapped Mahaffy.
+
+The judge was the picture of indifference.
+
+“It will be quite informal, the code is scarcely applicable; I merely
+intend to remove him because he is not fit to live.”
+
+“At sun-up!” muttered Mahaffy.
+
+“I intend to start one day right even if I never live to begin another,”
+ said the judge, a sudden fierce light flashing from his eyes. “I feel
+that this is the turning point in my career, Solomon!” he went on. “The
+beginning of great things! But I shall take no chances with the future,
+I shall prepare for every possible contingency. I am going to make you
+and Yancy my grandson's guardians. There's a hundred thousand acres of
+land hereabout that must come to him. I shall outline in writing the
+legal steps to be taken to substantiate his claims. Also he will inherit
+largely from me at my death.”
+
+Something very like laughter escaped from Mahaffy's lips.
+
+“There you go, Solomon, with your inopportune mirth! What in God's name
+have I if I haven't hope? Take that from me and what would I be?
+Why, the very fate I have been fighting off with tooth and nail would
+overwhelm me. I'd sink into unimportance--my unparalleled misfortunes
+would degrade me to a level with the commonest! No, sir, I've never been
+without hope, and though I've fallen I've always got up. What Fentress
+has is based on money he stole from me. By God, the days of his
+profit-taking are at an end! I am going to strip him. And even if I
+don't live to enjoy what's mine, my grandson shall! He shall wear
+velvet and a lace collar and ride his pony yet, by God, as a gentleman's
+grandson should!”
+
+“It sounds well, Price, but where's the money coming from to push a
+lawsuit?”
+
+The judge waved this aside.
+
+“The means will be found, Solomon. Our horizon is lifting--I can see it
+lift! Don't drag me back from the portal of hope! We'll drink the stuff
+that comes across the water; I'll warm the cockles of your heart with
+imported brandy. I carry twenty years' hunger and thirst under my
+wes-coat and I'll feed and drink like a gentleman yet!” The judge
+smacked his lips in an ecstasy of enjoyment, and dropping down before
+the table which served him as a desk, seized a pen.
+
+“It's good enough to think about, Price,” admitted Mahaffy grudgingly.
+
+“It's better to do; and if anything happens to me the papers I am going
+to leave will tell you how it's to be done. Man, there's a million of
+money in sight, and we've got to get it and spend it and enjoy it! None
+of your swinish thrift for me, but life on a big scale--company, and
+feasting, and refined surroundings!”
+
+“And you are going to meet Fentress in the morning?” asked Mahaffy. “I
+suppose there's no way of avoiding that?”
+
+“Avoiding it?” almost shouted the judge. “For what have I been living?
+I shall meet him, let the consequences be what they may. To-night when
+I have reduced certain facts to writing I shall join you at Belle Plain.
+The strange and melancholy history of my life I shall place in your
+hands for safe keeping. In the morning I can be driven back to Boggs'.”
+
+“And you will go there without a second?”
+
+“If necessary; yes.”
+
+“I declare, Price, you are hardly fitted to be at large! Why, you act as
+if you were tired of life. There's Yancy--there's Cavendish!”
+
+The judge gave him an indulgent but superior smile.
+
+“Two very worthy men, but I go to Boggs' attended by a gentleman or I go
+there alone. I am aware of your prejudices, Solomon; otherwise I might
+ask this favor of you.”
+
+Mr. Mahaffy snorted loudly and turned to the door, for Yancy and
+Cavendish were now approaching the house, the latter with a meal sack
+slung over his shoulder.
+
+“Here, Solomon, take one of my pistols,” urged the judge hastily. “You
+may need it at Belle Plain. Goodby, and God bless you!”
+
+Just where he had parted from Ware, Carrington sat his horse, his brows
+knit and his eyes turned in the direction of the path. He was on his way
+to a plantation below Girard, the owner of which had recently imported
+a pack of bloodhounds; but this unexpected encounter with Ware had
+affected him strangely. He still heard Tom's stammering speech, he was
+still seeing his ghastly face, and he had come upon him with startling
+suddenness. He had chanced to look back over his shoulder and when he
+faced about there had been the planter within a hundred yards of him.
+
+Presently Carrington's glance ceased to follow the windings of the path.
+He stared down at the gray dust and saw the trail left by Hues and his
+party. For a moment he hesitated; if the dogs were to be used with
+any hope of success he had no time to spare, and this was the merest
+suspicion, illogical conjecture, based on nothing beyond his distrust
+of Ware. In the end he sprang from the saddle and leading his horse into
+the woods, tied it to a sapling.
+
+A hurried investigation told him that five men had ridden in and out of
+that path. Of the five, all coming from the south, four had turned
+south again, but the fifth man--Ware, in other words--had gone north. He
+weighed the possible significance of these facts.
+
+“I am only wasting time!” he confessed reluctantly, and was on the point
+of turning away, when, on the very edge of the road and just where the
+dust yielded to the hard clay of the path, his glance lighted on the
+print of a small and daintily shod foot. The throbbing of his heart
+quickened curiously.
+
+“Betty!” The word leaped from his lips.
+
+That small foot had left but the one impress. There were other signs,
+however, that claimed his attention; namely, the bootprints of Slosson
+and his men; and he made the inevitable discovery that these tracks
+were all confined to the one spot. They began suddenly and as suddenly
+ceased, yet there was no mystery about these; he had the marks of the
+wheels to help him to a sure conclusion. A carriage had turned just
+here, several men had alighted, they had with them a child or a woman.
+Either they had reentered the carriage and driven back as they had come,
+or they had gone toward the river. He felt the soul within him turn
+sick.
+
+He stole along the path; the terror of the river was ever in his
+thoughts, and the specter of his fear seemed to flit before him and lure
+him on. Presently he caught his first glimpse of the bayou and his legs
+shook under him; but the path wound deeper still into what appeared to
+be an untouched solitude, wound on between the crowding tree forms,
+a little back from the shore, with an intervening tangle of vines
+and bushes. He scanned this closely as he hurried forward, scarcely
+conscious that he was searching for some trampled space at the water's
+edge; but the verdant wall preserved its unbroken continuity, and twenty
+minutes later he came within sight of the Hicks' clearing and the keel
+boat, where it rested against the bank.
+
+A little farther on he found the spot where Slosson had launched the
+skiff the night before. The keel of his boat had cut deep into the
+slippery clay; more than this, the impress of the small shoe was
+repeated here, and just beside it was the print of a child's bare foot.
+
+He no longer doubted that Betty and Hannibal had been taken across the
+bayou to the cabin, and he ran back up the path the distance of a mile
+and plunged into the woods on his right, his purpose being to pass
+around the head of the expanse of sluggish water to a point from which
+he could later approach the cabin. But the cabin proved to be better
+defended than he had foreseen; and as he advanced, the difficulties of
+the task he had set himself became almost insurmountable; yet sustained
+as he was by his imperative need, he tore his way through the labyrinth
+of trailing vines, or floundered across acre-wide patches of green slime
+and black mud, which at each step threatened to engulf him in their
+treacherous depths, until at the end of an hour he gained the southern
+side of the clearing and a firmer footing within the shelter of the
+woods.
+
+Here he paused and took stock of his surroundings. The two or three
+buildings Mr. Hicks had erected stood midway of the clearing and were
+very modest improvements adapted to their owner's somewhat flippant
+pursuit of agriculture. While Carrington was still staring about him,
+the cabin door swung open and a woman stepped forth. It was the girl
+Bess. She went to a corner of the building and called loudly:
+
+“Joe! Oh, Joe!”
+
+Carrington glanced in the direction of the keel boat and an instant
+later saw Slosson clamber over its side. The tavern-keeper crossed to
+the cabin, where he was met by Bess, who placed in his hands what
+seemed to be a wooden bowl. With this he slouched off to one of the
+outbuildings, which he entered. Ten or fifteen minutes slipped by,
+then he came from the shed and after securing the door, returned to
+the cabin. He was again met by Bess, who relieved him of the bowl; they
+exchanged a few words and Slosson walked away and afterward disappeared
+over the side of the keel boat.
+
+This much was clear to the Kentuckian: food had been taken to some one
+in the shed--to Betty and the boy!--more likely to George.
+
+He waited now for the night to come, and to him the sun seemed fixed in
+the heavens. At Belle Plain Tom Ware was watching it with a shuddering
+sense of the swiftness of its flight. But at last the tops of the tall
+trees obscured it; it sank quickly then and blazed a ball of fire beyond
+the Arkansas coast, while its dying glory spread aslant the heavens,
+turning the flanks of the gray clouds to violet and purple and gold.
+
+With the first approach of darkness Carrington made his way to the shed.
+Hidden in the shadow he paused to listen, and fancied he heard difficult
+breathing from within. The door creaked hideously on its wooden hinges
+when he pushed it open, but as it swung back the last remnant of the
+day's light showed him some dark object lying prone on the dirt floor.
+He reached down and his hand rested on a man's booted foot.
+
+“George--” Carrington spoke softly, but the man on the floor gave no
+sign that he heard, and Carrington's questioning touch stealing higher
+he found that George--if it were George--was lying on his side with his
+arms and legs securely bound. Thinking he slept, the Kentuckian shook
+him gently to arouse him.
+
+“George?” he repeated, still bending above him. This time an
+inarticulate murmur answered him. At the same instant the woolly head
+of the negro came under his fingers and he discovered the reason of his
+silence. He was as securely gagged as he was bound.
+
+“Listen, George--it's Carrington--I am going to take off this gag, but
+don't speak above a whisper--they may hear us!” And he cut the cords
+that held the gag in place.
+
+“How yo' get here, Mas'r Ca'ington?” asked the negro guardedly, as the
+gag fell away.
+
+“Around the head of the bayou.”
+
+“Lawd!” exclaimed George, in a tone of wonder.
+
+“Where's Miss Betty?”
+
+“She's in the cabin yonder--fo' the love of God, cut these here
+other ropes with yo' knife, Mas'r Ca'ington--I'm perishin' with 'em!”
+ Carrington did as he asked, and groaning, George sat erect. “I'm like I
+was gone to sleep all over,” he said.
+
+“You'll feel better in a moment. Tell me about Miss Malroy?”
+
+“They done fetched us here last night. I was drivin' Missy into
+Raleigh--her and young Mas'r Hazard--when fo' men stop us in the road.”
+
+“Who were they, do you know?” asked Carrington.
+
+“Lawd--what's that?”
+
+Carrington, knife in hand swung about on his heel. A lantern's light
+flashed suddenly in his face and Bess Hicks, with a low startled cry
+breaking from her lips, paused in the doorway. Springing forward,
+Carrington seized her by the wrist.
+
+“Hush!” he grimly warned.
+
+“What are you doin' here?” demanded the girl, as she endeavored to shake
+off his hand, but Carrington drew her into the shed, and closing the
+door, set his back against it. There was a brief silence during which
+Bess regarded the Kentuckian with a kind of stolid fearlessness. She was
+the first to speak. “I reckon you-all have come after Miss Malroy,” she
+observed quietly.
+
+“Then you reckon right,” answered Carrington. The girl studied him from
+beneath her level brows.
+
+“And you-all think you can take her away from here,” she speculated. “I
+ain't afraid of yo' knife--you-all might use it fast enough on a
+man, but not on me. I'll help you,” she added. Carrington gave her an
+incredulous glance. “You don't believe me? What's to hinder my calling
+for help? That would fetch our men up from the keel boat. No--yo'-all's
+knife wouldn't stop me!”
+
+“Don't be too sure of that,” said Carrington sternly. The girl met the
+menace of his words with soft, fullthroated laughter.
+
+“Why, yo' hand's shakin' now, Mr. Carrington!”
+
+“You know me?”
+
+“Yes, I seen you once at Boggs'.” She made an impatient movement. “You
+can't do nothing against them fo' men unless I help you. Miss Malroy's
+to go down river to-night; they're only waiting fo' a pilot--you-all's
+got to act quick!”
+
+Carrington hesitated.
+
+“Why do you want Miss Malroy to escape?” he said.
+
+The girl's mood changed abruptly. She scowled at him.
+
+“I reckon that's a private matter. Ain't it enough fo' you-all to know
+that I do? I'm showing how it can be done. Them four men on the keel
+boat are strangers in these parts, they're waiting fo' a pilot, but they
+don't know who he'll be. I've heard you-all was a riverman; what's to
+hinder yo' taking the pilot's place? Looks like yo' was willing to risk
+yo' life fo' Miss Malroy or you wouldn't be here.”
+
+“I'm ready,” said Carrington, his hand on the door.
+
+“No, you ain't--jest yet,” interposed the girl hastily. “Listen to me
+first. They's a dugout tied up 'bout a hundred yards above the keel
+boat; you must get that to cross in to the other side of the bayou, then
+when yo're ready to come back yo're to whistle three times--it's the
+signal we're expecting--and I'll row across fo' you in one of the
+skiffs.”
+
+“Can you see Miss Malroy in the meantime?”
+
+“If I want to, they's nothin' to hinder me,” responded Bess sullenly.
+
+“Tell her then--” began Carrington, but Bess interrupted him.
+
+“I know what yo' want. She ain't to cry out or nothin' when she sees
+you-all. I got sense enough fo' that.”
+
+Carrington looked at her curiously.
+
+“This may be a serious business for your people,” he said significantly,
+and watched her narrowly.
+
+“And you-all may get killed. I reckin if yo' want to do a thing bad
+enough you don't mind much what comes after,” she answered with a hard
+little laugh, as she went from the shed.
+
+“Come!” said Carrington to the negro, when he had seen the cabin door
+close on Bess and her lantern; and they stole across the clearing.
+Reaching the bayou side they began a noiseless search for the dugout,
+which they quickly found, and Carrington turned to George. “Can you
+swim?” he asked.
+
+“Yes, Mas'r.”
+
+“Then go down into the water and drag the canoe farther along the
+shore--and for God's sake, no sound!” he cautioned.
+
+They placed a second hundred yards between themselves and the keel boat
+in this manner, then he had George bring the dug-out to the bank, and
+they embarked. Keeping within the shadow of the trees that fringed the
+shore, Carrington paddled silently about the head of the bayou.
+
+“George,” he at length said, bending toward the negro; “my horse is tied
+in the woods on the right-hand side of the road just above where you
+were taken from the carriage last night--you can be at Belle Plain
+inside of an hour.”
+
+“Look here, Mas'r Ca'ington, those folks yonder is kin to Boss Hicks. If
+he get his hand on me first don't you reckon he'll stop my mouth? I been
+here heaps of times fotchin' letters fo' Mas'r Tom,” added George.
+
+“Who were the letters for?” asked the Kentuckian, greatly surprised.
+
+“They was fo' that Captain Murrell; seems like him and Mas'r Tom was
+mixed up in a sight of business.”
+
+“When was this--recently?” inquired Carrington. He was turning this
+astonishing statement of the slave over in his mind.
+
+“Well, no, Mas'r; seems like they ain't so thick here recently.”
+
+“I reckon you'd better keep away from the big house yet a while,” said
+Carrington. “Instead of going there, stop at the Belle Plain landing.
+You'll find a raft tied up to the shore, it belongs to a man named
+Cavendish. Tell him what you know. That I've found Miss Malroy and the
+boy, tell him to cast off and drift down here. I'll run the keel boat
+aground the first chance I get, so tell him to keep a sharp lookout.”
+
+A few minutes later they had separated, George to hurry away in search
+of the horse, and Carrington to pass back along the shore until he
+gained a point opposite the clearing. He whistled shrilly three times,
+and after an interval of waiting heard the splash of oars and presently
+saw a skiff steal out of the gloom.
+
+“Who's there?” It was Bess who asked the question.
+
+“Carrington,” he answered.
+
+“Lucky you ain't met the other man!” she said as she swept her skiff
+alongside the bank.
+
+“Lucky for him, you mean. I'll take the oars,” added Carrington as he
+entered the skiff.
+
+Slowly the clearing lifted out of the darkness, then the keel boat
+became distinguishable; and Carrington checked the skiff by a backward
+stroke of the oars.
+
+“Hello!” he called.
+
+There was no immediate answer to his hail, and he called again as he
+sent the skiff forward. He felt that he was risking all now.
+
+“What do you want?” asked a surly voice.
+
+“You want Slosson!” quickly prompted the girl in a whisper.
+
+“I want to see Slosson!” said Carrington glibly and with confidence, and
+once more he checked the skiff.
+
+“Who be you?”
+
+“Murrell sent you,” prompted the girl again, in a hurried whisper.
+
+“Murrell--” And in his astonishment Carrington spoke aloud.
+
+“Murrell?” cried the voice sharply.
+
+“--sent me!” said Carrington quickly, as though completing an unfinished
+sentence. The girl laughed nervously under her breath.
+
+“Row closter!” came the sullen command, and the Kentuckian did as he was
+bidden. Four men stood in the bow of the keel boat, a lantern was
+raised aloft and by its light they looked him over. There was a moment's
+silence broken by Carrington, who asked:
+
+“Which one of you is Slosson?” And he sprang lightly aboard the keel
+boat.
+
+“I'm Slosson,” answered the man with the lantern. The previous night Mr.
+Slosson had been somewhat under the enlivening and elevating influence
+of corn whisky, but now he was his own cheerless self, and rather
+jaded by the passing of the hours which he had sacrificed to an irksome
+responsibility. “What word do you fetch from the Captain, brother?” he
+demanded.
+
+“Miss Malroy is to be taken down river,” responded Carrington. Slosson
+swore with surpassing fluency.
+
+“Say, we're five able-bodied men risking our necks to oblige him!
+You can get married a damn sight easier than this if you go about it
+right--I've done it lots of times.” Not understanding the significance
+of Slosson's allusion to his own matrimonial career, Carrington held his
+peace. The tavern-beeper swore again with unimpaired vigor. “You'll find
+mighty few men with more experience than me,” he asserted, shaking his
+head. “But if you say the word--”
+
+“I'm all for getting shut of this!” answered Carrington promptly, with
+a sweep of his arm. “I call these pretty close quarters!” Still shaking
+his head and muttering, the tavernkeeper sprang ashore and mounted the
+bank, where his slouching figure quickly lost itself in the night.
+
+Carrington took up his station on the flat roof of the cabin which
+filled the stern of the boat. He was remembering that day in the sandy
+Barony road--and during all the weeks and months that had intervened,
+Murrell, working in secret, had moved steadily toward the fulfilment of
+his desires! Unquestionably he had been back of the attack on Norton,
+had inspired his subsequent murder, and the man's sinister and
+mysterious power had never been suspected. Carrington knew that the
+horse-thieves and slave stealers were supposed to maintain a loosely
+knit association; he wondered if Murrell were not the moving spirit in
+some such organization.
+
+“If I'd only pushed my quarrel with him!” he thought bitterly.
+
+He heard Slosson's shuffling step in the distance, a word or two when
+he spoke gruffly to some one, and a moment later he saw Betty and the boy,
+their forms darkly silhouetted against the lighter sky as they moved
+along the top of the bank. Slosson, without any superfluous gallantry,
+helped his captives down the slope and aboard the keel boat, where he
+locked them in the cabin, the door of which fastened with a hasp and
+wooden peg.
+
+“You're boss now, pardner!” he said, joining Carrington at the steering
+oar.
+
+“We'll cast off then,” answered Carrington.
+
+Thus far nothing had occurred to mar his plans. If they could but quit
+the bayou before the arrival of the man whose place he had taken, the
+rest would be if not easy of accomplishment, at least within the realm
+of the possible.
+
+“I reckon you're a river-man?” observed Slosson.
+
+“All my life.”
+
+The line had been cast off, and the crew with their setting poles were
+forcing the boat away from the bank. All was quietly done; except for
+an occasional order from Carrington no word was spoken, and soon the
+unwieldy craft glided into the sluggish current and gathered way. Mr.
+Slosson, who clearly regarded his relation to the adventure as being of
+an official character, continued to stand at Carrington's elbow.
+
+“What have we, between here and the river?” inquired the latter. It was
+best, he felt, not to give Slosson an opportunity to ask questions.
+
+“It narrows considerably, pardner, but it's a straight course,” said
+Slosson. “Black in yonder, ain't it?” he added, nodding ahead.
+
+The shores drew rapidly together; they were leaving the lakelike expanse
+behind. In the silence, above the rustling of the trees, Carrington
+heard the first fret of 'the river against its bank. Slosson yawned
+prodigiously.
+
+“I reckon you ain't needing me?” he said.
+
+“Better go up in the bow and get some sleep,” advised Carrington, and
+Slosson, nothing loath, clambered down from the roof of the cabin and
+stumbled forward.
+
+The ceaseless murmur of the rushing waters grew in the stillness as the
+keel boat drew nearer the hurrying yellow flood, and the beat of the
+Kentuckian's pulse quickened. Would he find the raft there? He glanced
+back over the way they had come. The dark ranks of the forest walled off
+the clearing, but across the water a dim point of light was visible. He
+fixed its position as somewhere near the head of the bayou. Apparently
+it was a lantern, but as he looked a ruddy glow crept up against the
+sky-line.
+
+From the bow Bunker had been observing this singular phenomenon.
+Suddenly he bent and roused Slosson, who had fallen asleep. The
+tavern-keeper sprang to his feet and Bunker pointed without speaking.
+
+“Mebby you can tell me what that light back yonder means?” cried
+Slosson, addressing himself to Carrington; as he spoke he snatched up
+his rifle.
+
+“That's what I'm trying to make out,” answered Carrington.
+
+“Hell!” cried Slosson, and tossed his gun to his shoulder.
+
+What seemed to be a breath of wind lifted a stray lock of Carrington's
+hair, but his pistol answered Slosson in the same second. He fired at
+the huddle of men in the bow of the boat and one of them pitched forward
+with his arms outspread.
+
+“Keep back, you!” he said, and dropped off the cabin roof.
+
+His promptness had bred a momentary panic, then Slosson's bull-like
+voice began to roar commands; but in that brief instant of surprise and
+shock Carrington had found and withdrawn the wooden peg that fastened
+the cabin door. He had scarcely done this when Slosson came tramping aft
+supported by the three men.
+
+Calling to Betty and Hannibal to escape in the skiff which was towing
+astern the Kentuckian rushed toward the bow. At his back he heard the
+door creak on its hinges as it was pushed open by Betty and the boy, and
+again he called to them to escape by the skiff. The fret of the current
+had grown steadily and from beneath the wide-flung branches of the
+trees which here met above his head, Carrington caught sight of the
+starspecked arch of the heavens beyond. They were issuing from the
+bayou. He felt the river snatch at the keel boat, the buffeting of some
+swift eddy, and saw the blunt bow swing off to the south as they were
+plunged into the black shore shadows.
+
+But what he did not see was a big muscular hand which had thrust itself
+out of the impenetrable gloom and clutched the side of the keel boat.
+Coincident with this there arose a perfect babel of voices, high-pitched
+and shrill.
+
+“Sho--I bet it's him! Sho'--it's Uncle Bob's nevvy! Sho', you can hear
+'em! Sho', they're shootin' guns! Sho'!”
+
+Carrington cast a hurried glance in the direction of these sounds. There
+between the boat and the shore the dim outline of a raft was taking
+shape. It was now canopied by a wealth of pale gray smoke that faded
+from before his eyes as the darkness lifted. Turning, he saw Slosson and
+his men clearly. Surprise and consternation was depicted on each face.
+
+The light increased. From the flat stone hearth of the raft ascended
+a tall column of flame which rendered visible six pygmy figures,
+tow-headed and wonderfully vocal, who were toiling like mad at the huge
+sweeps. The light showed more than this. It showed a lady of plump and
+pleasing presence smoking a cobpipe while she fed the fire from a tick
+stuffed with straw. It showed two bark shanties, a line between them
+decorated with the never-ending Cavendish wash. It showed a rooster
+perched on the ridge-pole of one of these shanties in the very act of
+crowing lustily.
+
+Hannibal, who had climbed to the roof of the cabin, shrieked for help,
+and Betty added her voice to his.
+
+“All right, Nevvy!” came the cheerful reply, as Yancy threw himself over
+the side of the boat and grappled with Slosson.
+
+“Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!” cried Hannibal.
+
+Slosson uttered a cry of terror. He had a simple but sincere faith in
+the supernatural, and even with the Scratch Hiller's big hands gripping
+his throat, he could not rid himself of the belief that this was the
+ghost of a murdered man.
+
+“You'll take a dog's licking from me, neighbor?” said Yancy grimly. “I
+been saving it fo' you!”
+
+Meanwhile Mr. Cavendish, whose proud spirit never greatly inclined him
+to the practice of peace, had prepared for battle; Springing aloft he
+knocked his heels together.
+
+“Whoop! I'm a man as can slide down a thorny locust and never get
+scratched!” he shouted. This was equivalent to setting his triggers;
+then he launched himself nimbly and with enthusiasm into the thick of
+the fight. It was Mr. Bunker's unfortunate privilege to sustain the
+onslaught of the Earl of Lambeth.
+
+The light from the Cavendish hearth continued to brighten the scene,
+for Polly was recklessly sacrificing her best straw tick. Indeed her
+behavior was in every way worthy of the noble alliance she had formed.
+Her cob-pipe was not suffered to go out and with Connie's help she kept
+the six small Cavendishes from risking life and limb in the keel boat,
+toward which they were powerfully drawn. Despite these activities she
+found time to call to Betty and Hannibal on the cabin roof.
+
+“Jump down here; that ain't no fittin' place for you-all to stop in with
+them gentlemen fightin'!”
+
+An instant later Betty and Hannibal stood on the raft with the little
+Cavendishes flocking about them. Mr. Yancy's quest of his nevvy
+had taken an enduring hold on their imagination. For weeks it had
+constituted their one vital topic, and the fight became merely a
+satisfying background for this interesting restoration.
+
+“Sho', they'd got him! Sho'--he wa'n't no bigger than Richard! Sho'!”
+
+“Oh!” cried Betty, with a fearful glance toward the keel boat. “Can't
+you stop them?”
+
+“What fo'?” asked Polly, opening her black eyes very wide.
+
+“Bless yo' tender heart!-you don't need to worry none, we got them
+strange gentlemen licked like they was a passel of children! Connie,
+you-all mind that fire!”
+
+She accurately judged the outcome of the fight. The boat was little
+better than a shambles with the havoc that had been wrought there
+when Yancy and Carrington dropped over its side to the raft. Cavendish
+followed them, whooping his triumph as he came.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. THE RAFT AGAIN
+
+
+Yancy and Cavendish threw themselves on the sweeps and worked the raft
+clear of the keel boat, then the turbulent current seized the smaller
+craft and whirled it away into the night; as its black bulk receded from
+before his eyes the Earl of Lambeth spoke with the voice of authority
+and experience.
+
+“It was a good fight and them fellows done well, but not near well
+enough.” A conclusion that could not be gainsaid. He added, “No one
+ain't hurt but them that had ought to have got hurt. Mr. Yancy's all
+right, and so's Mr. Carrington--who's mighty welcome here.” The earl's
+shock of red hair was bristling like the mane of some angry animal
+and his eyes still flashed with the light of battle, but he managed to
+summon up an expression of winning friendliness.
+
+“Mr. Carrington's kin to me, Polly,” explained Yancy to Mrs. Cavendish.
+His voice was far from steady, for Hannibal had been gathered into
+his arms and had all but wrecked the stoic calm with which the Scratch
+Hiller was seeking to guard his emotions.
+
+Polly smiled and dimpled at the Kentuckian. Trained to a romantic point
+of view she had a frank liking for handsome stalwart men. Cavendish was
+neither, but none knew better than Polly that where he was most lacking
+in appearance he was richest in substance. He carried scars honorably
+earned in those differences he had been prone to cultivate with less
+generous natures; for his scheme of life did not embrace the millennium.
+
+“Thank God, you got here when you did!” said Carrington.
+
+“We was some pushed fo' time, but we done it,” responded the earl
+modestly. He added, “What now?--do we make a landing?”
+
+“No--unless it interferes with your plans not to. I 'want to get around
+the next bend before we tie up. Later we'll all go back. Can I count on
+you?”
+
+“You shorely can. I consider this here as sociable a neighborhood as I
+ever struck. It pleases me well. Folks are up and doing hereabout.”
+
+Carrington looked eagerly around in search of Betty. She was sitting
+on an upturned tub, a pathetic enough figure as she drooped against the
+wall of one of the shanties with all her courage quite gone from her. He
+made his way quickly to her side.
+
+“La!” whispered Polly in Chills and Fever's ear. “If that pore young
+thing yonder keeps a widow it won't be because of any encouragement she
+gets from Mr. Carrington. If I ever seen marriage in a man's eye I seen
+it in his this minute!”
+
+“Bruce!” cried Betty, starting up as Carrington approached. “Oh, Bruce,
+I am so glad you have come--you are not hurt?” She accepted his presence
+without question. She had needed him and he had not failed her.
+
+“We are none of us hurt, Betty,” he said gently, as he took her hand.
+
+He saw that the suffering she had undergone during the preceding
+twenty-four hours had left its record on her tired face and in her heavy
+eyes. She retained a shuddering consciousness of the unchecked savagery
+of those last moments on the keel boat; she was still hearing the oaths
+of the men as they struggled together, the sound of blows, and the
+dreadful silences that had followed them. She turned from him, and there
+came the relief of tears.
+
+“There, Betty, the danger is over now and you were so brave while it
+lasted. I can't bear to have you cry!”
+
+“I was wild with fear--all that time on the boat, Bruce--” she faltered
+between her sobs. “I didn't know but they would find you out. I could
+only wait and hope--and pray!”
+
+“I was in no danger, dear. Didn't the girl tell you I was to take the
+place of a man Slosson was expecting? He never doubted that I was that
+man until a light--a signal it must have been--on the shore at the head
+of the bayou betrayed me.”
+
+“Where are we going now, Bruce? Not the way they went--” and Betty
+glanced out into the black void where the keel boat had merged into the
+gloom.
+
+“No, no--but we can't get the raft back up-stream against the current,
+so the best thing is to land at the Bates' plantation below here; then
+as soon as you are able we can return to Belle Plain,” said Carrington.
+
+There was an interval broken only by the occasional sweep of the great
+steering oar as Cavendish coaxed the raft out toward the channel. The
+thought of Charley Norton's murder rested on Carrington like a pall.
+Scarcely a week had elapsed since he quitted Thicket Point and in that
+week the hand of death had dealt with them impartially, and to what
+end? Then the miles he had traversed in his hopeless journey up-river
+translated themselves into a division of time as well as space. They
+were just so much further removed from the past with its blight of
+tragic terror. He turned and glanced at Betty. He saw that her eyes
+held their steady look of wistful pity that was for the dead man; yet in
+spite of this, and in spite of the bounds beyond which he would not
+let his imagination carry him, the future enriched with sudden promise
+unfolded itself. The deep sense of recovered hope stirred within him. He
+knew there must come a day when he would dare to speak of his love, and
+she would listen.
+
+“It's best we should land at Bates' place--we can get teams there,” he
+went on to explain. “And, Betty, wherever we go we'll go together, dear.
+Cavendish doesn't look as if he had any very urgent business of his own,
+and I reckon the same is true of Yancy, so I am going to keep them
+with us. There are some points to be cleared up when we reach Belle
+Plain--some folks who'll have a lot to explain or else quit this part of
+the state! And I intend to see that you are not left alone until--until
+I have the right to take care of you for good and all--that's what
+you want me to do one of these days, isn't it, darling?” and his eyes,
+glowing and infinitely tender, dwelt on her upturned face.
+
+But Betty shrank from him in involuntary agitation.
+
+“Oh, not now, Bruce--not now--we mustn't speak of that--it's wrong--it's
+wicked--you mustn't make me forget him!” she cried brokenly, in protest.
+
+“Forgive me, Betty, I'll not speak of it again,” he said.
+
+“Wait, Bruce, and some time--Oh, don't make me say it,” she gasped, “or
+I shall hate myself!” for in his presence she was feeling the horror
+of her past experience grow strangely remote, only the dull ache of
+her memories remained, and to these she clung. They were silent for a
+moment, then Carrington said:
+
+“After I'm sure you'll be safe here perhaps I'll go south into the
+Choctaw Purchase. I've been thinking of that recently; but I'll find my
+way back here--don't misunderstand me--I'll not come too soon for even
+you, Betty. I loved Norton. He was one of my best friends, too,” he
+continued gently. “But you know--and I know--dear, the day will come
+when no matter where you are I shall find you again--find you and not
+lose you!”
+
+Betty made no answer in words, but a soft and eloquent little hand was
+slipped into his and allowed to rest there.
+
+Presently a light wind stirred the dead dense atmosphere, the mist
+lifted and enveloped the shore, showing them the river between piled-up
+masses of vapor. Apparently it ran for their raft alone. It was just
+twenty-four hours since Carrington had looked upon such another night
+but this was a different world the gray fog was unmasking--a world of
+hopes, and dreams, and rich content. Then the thought of Norton--poor
+Norton who had had his world, too, of hopes and dreams and rich
+content--
+
+The calm of a highly domestic existence had resumed its interrupted sway
+on the raft. Mr. Cavendish, associated in Betty's memory with certain
+earsplitting manifestations of ferocious rage, became in the bosom of
+his family low-voiced and genial and hopelessly impotent to deal with
+his five small sons; while Yancy was again the Bob Yancy of Scratch
+Hill, violence of any sort apparently had no place in his nature. He was
+deeply absorbed in Hannibal's account of those vicissitudes which had
+befallen him during their separation. They were now seated before a
+cheerful fire that blazed on the hearth, the boy very close to Yancy
+with one hand clasped in the Scratch Hiller's, while about them were
+ranged the six small Cavendishes sedately sharing in the reunion of
+uncle and nevvy, toward which they felt they had honorably labored.
+
+“And you wa'n't dead, Uncle Bob?” said Hannibal with a deep breath,
+viewing Yancy unmistakably in the flesh.
+
+“Never once. I been floating peacefully along with these here titled
+friends of mine; but I was some anxious about you, son.”
+
+“And Mr. Slosson, Uncle Bob--did you smack him like you smacked Dave
+Blount that day when he tried to steal me?” asked Hannibal, whose
+childish sense of justice demanded reparation for the wrongs they had
+suffered.
+
+Mr. Yancy extended a big right hand, the knuckle of which was skinned
+and bruised.
+
+“He were the meanest man I ever felt obliged fo' to hit with my fist,
+Nevvy; it appeared like he had teeth all over his face.”
+
+“Sho--where's his hide, Uncle Bob?” cried the little Cavendishes in
+an excited chorus. “Sho--did you forget that?” They themselves had
+forgotten the unique enterprise to which Mr. Yancy was committed, but
+the allusion to Slosson had revived their memory of it.
+
+“Well, he begged so piteous to be allowed fo' to keep his hide, I hadn't
+the heart to strip it off,” explained Mr. Yancy pleasantly. “And the
+winter's comin' onat this moment I can feel a chill in the air--don't
+you-all reckon he's goin' to need it fo' to keep the cold out,' Sho',
+you mustn't be bloody-minded!”
+
+“What was it about Mr. Slosson's hide, Uncle Bob?” demanded Hannibal.
+“What was you a-goin' to do to that?”
+
+“Why, Nevvy, after he beat me up and throwed me in the river, I was some
+peevish fo' a spell in my feelings fo' him,” said Yancy, in a tone of
+gentle regret. He glanced at his bruised hand. “But I'm right pleased
+to be able to say that I've got over all them oncharitable thoughts of
+mine.”
+
+“And you seen the judge, Uncle Bob?” questioned Hannibal.
+
+“Yes, I've seen the judge. We was together fo' part of a day. Me and him
+gets on fine.”
+
+“Where is he now, Uncle Bob?”
+
+“I reckon he's back at Belle Plain by this time. You see we left him
+in Raleigh along after noon to 'tend to some business he had on hand. I
+never seen a gentleman of his weight so truly spry on his legs--and all
+about you, Nevvy; while as to mind! Sho--why, words flowed out of him as
+naturally as water out of a branch.”
+
+Of Hannibal's relationship to the judge he said nothing. He felt that
+was a secret to be revealed by the judge himself when he should see fit.
+
+“Uncle Bob, who'm I going to live with now?” questioned Hannibal
+anxiously.
+
+“That p'int's already come up, Nevvy--him and me's decided that there
+won't be no friction. You-all will just go on living with him.”
+
+“But what about you, Uncle Bob?” cried Hannibal, lifting a wistful
+little face to Yancy's.
+
+“Oh, me?--well, you-all will go right on living with me.”
+
+“And what will come of Mr. Mahaffy?”
+
+“I reckon you-all will go right on living with him, too.”
+
+“Uncle Bob, you mean you reckon we are all going to live in one house?”
+
+“I 'low it will have to be fixed that-a-ways,” agreed Yancy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. THE JUDGE RECEIVES A LETTER
+
+
+After he had parted with Solomon Mahaffy the judge applied himself
+diligently to shaping that miracle-working document which he was
+preparing as an offset to whatever risk he ran in meeting Fentress. As
+sanguine as he was sanguinary he confidently expected to survive the
+encounter, yet it was well to provide for a possible emergency--had he
+not his grandson's future to consider? While thus occupied he saw the
+afternoon stage arrive and depart from before the City Tavern.
+
+Half an hour later Mr. Wesley, the postmaster, came sauntering up the
+street. In his hand he carried a letter.
+
+“Howdy,” he drawled, from just beyond the judge's open door.
+
+The judge glanced up, his quill pen poised aloft.
+
+“Good evening, sir; won't you step inside and be seated?” he asked
+graciously. His dealings with the United States mail service were of the
+most insignificant description, and in personally delivering a letter,
+if this was what had brought him there, he felt Mr. Wesley had reached
+the limit of official courtesy and despatch.
+
+“Well, sir; it looks like you'd never told us more than two-thirds of
+the truth!” said the postmaster. He surveyed the judge curiously.
+
+“I am complimented by your opinion of my veracity,” responded that
+gentleman promptly. “I consider two-thirds an enormously high per cent
+to have achieved.”
+
+“There is something in that, too,” agreed Mr. Wesley. “Who is Colonel
+Slocum Price Turberville?”
+
+The judge started up from his chair.
+
+“I have that honor,” said he, bowing.
+
+“Well, here's a letter come in addressed like that, and as you've been
+using part of the name I am willing to assume you're legally entitled
+to the rest of it. It clears up a point that off and on has troubled me
+considerable. I can only wonder I wa'n't smarter.”
+
+“What point, may I ask?”
+
+“Why, about the time you hung out your shingle here, some one wrote a
+letter to General Jackson. It was mailed after night, and when I seen it
+in the morning I was clean beat. I couldn't locate the handwriting and
+yet I kept that letter back a couple of days and give it all my spare
+time. It ain't that I'm one of your spying sort--there's nothing of the
+Yankee about me!”
+
+“Certainly not,” agreed the judge.
+
+“Candid, Judge, I reckon you wrote that letter, seeing this one comes
+under a frank from Washington. No, sir--I couldn't make out who was
+corresponding with the president and it worried me, not knowing, more
+than anything I've had to contend against since I came into office. I
+calculate there ain't a postmaster in the United States takes a more
+personal interest in the service than me. I've frequently set patrons
+right when they was in doubt as to the date they had mailed such and
+such a letter.” As Mr. Wesley sometimes canceled as many as three or
+four stamps in a single day he might have been pardoned his pride in a
+brain which thus lightly dealt with the burden of official business. He
+surrendered the letter with marked reluctance.
+
+“Your surmise is correct,” said the judge with dignity. “I had occasion
+to write my friend, General Jackson, and unless I am greatly mistaken I
+have my answer here.” And with a fine air of indifference he tossed the
+letter on the table.
+
+“And do you know Old Hickory?” cried Mr. Wesley.
+
+“Why not? Does it surprise you?” inquired the judge. It was only his
+innate courtesy which restrained him from kicking the postmaster into
+the street, so intense was his desire to be rid of him.
+
+“No, I don't know as it does, judge. Naturally a public man like him is
+in the way of meeting with all sorts. A politician can't afford to be
+too blame particular. Well, next time you write you might just send
+him my regards--G. W. M. de L. Wesley's regards--there was considerable
+contention over my getting this office; I reckon he ain't forgot. There
+was speeches made, I understand the lie was passed between two United
+States senators, and that a quid of tobacco was throwed in anger.”
+ Having thus clearly established the fact that he was a more or less
+national character, Mr. Wesley took himself off.
+
+When he had disappeared from sight down the street, the judge closed the
+door. Then he picked up the letter. For along minute he held it in his
+hand, uncertain, fearful, while his mind slipped back into the past
+until his inward searching vision ferreted out a handsome soldierly
+figure--his own.
+
+“That's what Jackson remembers if he remembers anything!” he muttered,
+as with trembling fingers he broke the seal. Almost instantly a smile
+overspread his battered features. He hitched his chin higher and squared
+his ponderous shoulders. “I am not forgotten--no, damn it--no!” he
+exulted under his breath, “recalls me with sincere esteem and considers
+my services to the country as well worthy of recognition--” the judge
+breathed deep. What would Mahaffy find to say now! Certainly this was
+well calculated to disturb the sour cynicism of his friend. His bleared
+eyes brimmed. After all his groping he had touched hands with the
+realities at last! Even a federal judgeship, though not an office of the
+first repute in the south had its dignity--it signified something! He
+would make Solomon his clerk! The judge reached for his hat. Mahaffy
+must know at once that fortune had mended for them. Why, at that moment
+he was actually in receipt of an income!
+
+He sat down, the better to enjoy the unique sensation. Taxes were being
+levied and collected with no other end in view than his stipend--his
+ardent fancy saw the whole machinery of government in operation for his
+benefit. It was a singular feeling he experienced. Then promptly his
+spendthrift brain became active. He needed clothes--so did Mahaffy--so
+did his grandson; they must take a larger house; he would buy himself a
+man servant; these were pressing necessities as he now viewed them.
+
+Once again he reached for his hat, the desire to rush off to Belle Plain
+was overmastering.
+
+“I reckon I'd be justified in hiring a conveyance from Pegloe,” he
+thought, but just here he had a saving memory of his unfinished task;
+that claimed precedence and he resumed his pen.
+
+An hour later Pegloe's black boy presented himself to the judge. He
+came bearing a gift, and the gift appropriately enough was a square
+case bottle of respectable size. The judge was greatly touched by
+this attention, but he began by making a most temperate use of the
+tavern-keeper's offering; then as the formidable document he was
+preparing took shape under his hand he more and more lost that feeling
+of Spartan fortitude which had at first sustained him in the presence of
+temptation. He wrote and sipped in complete and quiet luxury, and when
+at last he had exhausted the contents of the bottle it occurred to him
+that it would be only proper personally to convey his thanks to Pegloe.
+Perhaps he was not uninspired in this by ulterior hopes; if so, they
+were richly rewarded. The resources of the City Tavern were suddenly
+placed at his disposal. He attributed this to a variety of causes all
+good and sufficient, but the real reason never suggested itself,
+indeed it was of such a perfidious nature that the judge, open and
+generous-minded, could not have grasped it.
+
+By six o'clock he was undeniably drunk; at eight he was sounding
+still deeper depths of inebriety with only the most confused memory of
+impending events; at ten he collapsed and was borne up-stairs by Pegloe
+and his black boy to a remote chamber in the kitchen wing. Here he was
+undressed and put to bed, and the tavernkeeper, making a bundle of his
+clothes, retired from the room, locking the door after him, and the
+judge was doubly a prisoner.
+
+Rousing at last from a heavy dreamless sleep the judge was aware of a
+faint impalpable light in his room, the ashen light of a dull October
+dawn. He was aware, too, of a feeling of profound depression. He knew
+this was the aftermath of indulgence and that he might look forward
+to forty-eight hours of utter misery of soul, and, groaning aloud, he
+closed his eyes, Sleep was the thing if he could compass it. Instead,
+his memory quickened. Something was to happen at sunup--he could not
+recall what it was to be, though he distinctly remembered that Mahaffy
+had spoken of this very matter--Mahaffy, the austere and implacable, the
+disembodied conscience whose fealty to duty had somehow survived his own
+spiritual ruin, so that he had become a sort of moral sign-post, ever
+pointing the way yet never going it himself. The judge lay still and
+thought deeply as the light intensified itself. What was it that Mahaffy
+had said he was to do at sun-up? The very hour accented his suspicions.
+Probably it was no more than some cheerless obligation to be met, or
+Mahaffy would not have been so concerned about it. Eventually he decided
+to refer everything to Mahaffy. He spoke his friend's name weakly and in
+a shaking voice, but received no answer.
+
+“Solomon!” he repeated, and shifting his position, looked in what should
+have been the direction of the shake-down bed his friend occupied.
+Neither the bed nor Mahaffy were there. The judge gasped he wondered if
+this were not a premonition of certain hallucinations to which he was
+not a stranger. Then all in a flash he remembered Fentress and the
+meeting at Boggs', something of how the evening had been spent, and a
+spasm of regret shook him.
+
+“I had other things to think of. This must never happen again!” he told
+himself remorsefully.
+
+He was wide-awake now. Doubtless Pegloe had put him to bed. Well, that
+had been thoughtful of Pegloe--he would not forget him--the City Tavern
+should continue to enjoy his patronage. It would be something for Pegloe
+to boast of that judge Slocum Price Turberville always made his place
+headquarters when in Raleigh. Feeling that he had already conferred
+wealth and distinction on the fortunate Pegloe the judge thrust his fat
+legs over the side of his bed and stood erect. Stooping he reached for
+his clothes. He confidently expected to find them on the floor, but
+his hand merely swept an uncarpeted waste. The judge was profoundly
+astonished.
+
+“Maybe I've got 'em on, I don't recall taking them off!” he thought
+hopefully. He moved uncertainly in the direction of the window where the
+light showed him his own bare extremities. He reverted to his original
+idea that his clothes were scattered about the floor.
+
+He was beginning to experience a great sense of haste, it was two miles
+to Boggs' and Fentress would be there at sun-up. Finally he abandoned
+his quest of the missing garments and turned to the door. To say that
+he was amazed when he found it locked would have most inadequately
+described his emotions. Breathing deep, he fell back a step or two, and
+then with all the vigor he could muster launched himself at the door.
+But it resisted him. “It's bolted on the other side!” he muttered, the
+full measure of Pegloe's perfidy revealing itself to his mind.
+
+He was aghast. It was a plot to discredit him. Pegloe's hospitality had
+been inspired by his enemy, for Pegloe was Fentress' tenant.
+
+Again he attacked the door; he believed it might be possible to force it
+from its hinges, but Pegloe had done his work too well for that, and at
+last, spent and breathless, the judge dropped down on the edge of his
+bed to consider the situation. He was without clothes and he was a
+prisoner, yet his mind rose splendidly to meet the difficulties that
+beset him. His greatest activities were reserved for what appeared to be
+only a season of despair. He armed himself with a threelegged stool he
+had found and turned once more to the door, but the stout planks stood
+firm under his blows.
+
+“Unless I get out of here in time I'm a ruined man!” thought the judge.
+“After this Fentress will refuse to meet me!”
+
+The window next engaged his attention. That, too, Pegloe had taken the
+precaution to fasten, but a single savage blow of the stool shattered
+glass and sash and left an empty space that framed the dawn's red glow.
+The judge looked out and shook his head dubiously. It was twelve feet or
+more to the ground, a risky drop for a gentleman of his years and build.
+The judge considered making a rope of his bedding and lowering himself
+to the ground by means of it, he remembered to have read of captives in
+that interesting French prison, the Bastille, who did this. However, an
+equally ingenious but much more simple use for his bedding occurred to
+him; it would form a soft and yielding substance on which to alight.
+He gathered it up into his arms, feather-tick and all, and pushed it
+through the window, then he wriggled out across the ledge, feet first,
+and lowering himself to the full length of his arms, dropped.
+
+He landed squarely on the rolled-up bed with a jar that shook him to his
+center. Almost gaily he snatched up a quilt, draping it about him after
+the manner of a Roman, toga, and thus lightly habited, started across
+Mr. Pegloe's truck-patch, his one thought Boggs' and the sun. It would
+have served no purpose to have gone home, since his entire wardrobe,
+except for the shirt on his back, was in the tavern-keeper's possession,
+besides he had not a moment to lose, for the sun was peeping at him over
+the horizon.
+
+Unobserved he gained the edge of the town and the highroad that led past
+Boggs' and stole a fearful glance over his shoulder. The sun was clear
+of the treetops, he could even feel the lifeless dust grow warm beneath
+his feet; and wrapping the quilt closer about him he broke into a
+labored run.
+
+Some twenty minutes later Boggs' came in sight. He experienced a moment
+of doubt--suppose Fentress had been there and gone! It was a hideous
+thought and the judge groaned. Then at the other end of the meadow near
+the woods he distinguished several men, Fentress and his friends beyond
+question. The judge laughed aloud. In spite of everything he was keeping
+his engagement, he was plucking his triumph out of the very dregs of
+failure. The judge threw himself over the fence, a corner of the quilt
+caught on one of the rails; he turned to release it, and in that instant
+two pistol shots rang out sharply in the morning air.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. THE DUEL
+
+
+It had been with no little reluctance that Solomon Mahaffy accompanied
+Yancy and Cavendish to Belle Plain; he would have preferred to remain in
+Raleigh in attendance upon judge Price. Intimately acquainted with the
+judge's mental processes, he could follow all the devious workings of
+that magnificent mind; he could fathom the simply hellish ingenuity
+he was capable of putting forth to accomplish temporary benefits.
+Permitting his thoughts to dwell upon the mingled strength and weakness
+which was so curiously blended in Slocum Price's character, he had
+horrid visions of that great soul, freed from the trammels of restraint,
+confiding his melancholy history to Mr. Pegloe in the hope of bolstering
+his fallen credit at the City Tavern.
+
+Always where the judge was concerned he fluctuated between extremes of
+doubt and confidence. He felt that under the urgent spur of occasion
+his friend could rise to any emergency, while a sustained activity made
+demands which he could not satisfy; then his efforts were discounted by
+his insane desire to realize at once on his opportunities; in his haste
+he was for ever plucking unripe fruit; and though he might keep one eye
+on the main chance the other was fixed just as resolutely on the nearest
+tavern.
+
+With the great stake which fate had suddenly introduced into their
+losing game, he wished earnestly to believe that the judge would stay
+quietly in his office and complete the task he had set himself; that
+with this off his hands the promise of excitement at Belle Plain
+would compel his presence there, when he would pass somewhat under the
+restraining influence which he was determined to exert; in short, to
+Solomon, life embraced just the one vital consideration, which was to
+maintain the judge in a state of sobriety until after his meeting with
+Fentress.
+
+The purple of twilight was stealing over the land when he and his two
+companions reached Belle Plain. They learned that Tom Ware had returned
+from Memphis, that the bayou had been dragged but without results, and
+that as yet nothing had been heard from Carrington or the dogs he had
+gone for.
+
+Presently Cavendish and Yancy set off across the fields. They were going
+on to the raft, to Polly and the six little Cavendishes, whom they had
+not seen since early morning; but they promised to be back at Belle
+Plain within an hour.
+
+By very nature an alien, Mahaffy sought out a dark corner on the wide
+porch that overlooked the river to await their return. The house had
+been thrown open, and supper was being served to whoever cared to stay
+and partake of it. The murmur of idle purposeless talk drifted out to
+him; he was irritated and offended by it. There was something garish
+in this indiscriminate hospitality in the very home of tragedy. As the
+moments slipped by his sense of displeasure increased, with mankind
+in general, with himself, and with the judge--principally with the
+judge--who was to make a foolish target of himself in the morning. He
+was going to give the man who had wrecked his life a chance to take
+it as well. Mahaffy's cold logic dealt cynically with the preposterous
+situation his friend had created.
+
+In the midst of his angry meditations he heard a clock strike in the
+hall and counted the strokes. It was nine o'clock. Surely Yancy and
+Cavendish had been gone their hour! He quitted his seat and strolled
+restlessly about the house. He felt deeply indignant with everybody and
+everything. Human intelligence seemed but a pitiable advance on brute
+instinct. A whole day had passed and what had been accomplished?
+Carrington, the judge, Yancy, Cavendish--the four men who might have
+worked together to some purpose had widely separated themselves; and
+here was the duel, the very climax of absurdity. He resumed his dark
+corner and waited another hour. Still no Carrington, and Yancy and
+Cavendish had not come up from the raft.
+
+“Fools!” thought Mahaffy bitterly. “All of them fools!”
+
+At last he decided to go back to the judge; and a moment later was
+hurrying down the lane in the direction of the highroad, but, jaded
+as he was by the effort he had already put forth that day, the walk
+to Raleigh made tremendous demands on him, and it was midnight when he
+entered the little town.
+
+It can not be said that he was altogether surprised when he found
+their cottage dark and apparently deserted. He had half expected
+this. Entering, and not stopping to secure a candle, he groped his way
+up-stairs to the room on the second floor which he and the judge shared.
+
+“Price!” he called, but this gained him no response, and he cursed
+softly under his breath.
+
+He hastily descended to the kitchen, lighted a candle, and stepped into
+the adjoining room. On the table was a neat pile of papers, and
+topping the pile was the president's letter. Being burdened by no
+false scruples, and thinking it might afford some clue to the judge's
+whereabouts, Mahaffy took it up and read it. Having mastered its
+contents he instantly glanced in the direction of the City Tavern, but
+it was wrapped in darkness.
+
+“Price is drunk somewhere,” was his definite conclusion. “But he'll be
+at Boggs' the first thing in the morning--most likely so far gone he
+can hardly stand!” The letter, with its striking news, made little or no
+impression on him just then; it merely furnished the clue he had sought.
+The judge was off somewhere marketing his prospects.
+
+After a time Mahaffy went up-stairs, and, without removing his clothes,
+threw himself on the bed. He was worn down to the point of exhaustion,
+yet he could not sleep, though the deep silence warned him that day was
+not far off. What if--but he would not let the thought shape itself in
+his mind. He had witnessed the judge's skill with the pistol, and he had
+even a certain irrational faith in that gentleman's destiny. He prayed
+God that Fentress might die quickly and decently with the judge's bullet
+through his brain. Over and over in savage supplication he muttered his
+prayer that Fentress might die.
+
+He began to watch for the coming of the dawn, but before the darkness
+lifted he had risen from the bed and gone downstairs, where he made
+himself a cup of wretched coffee. Then he blew out his candle and
+watched the gray light spread. He was impatient now to be off, and fully
+an hour before the sun, set out for Boggs', a tall, gaunt figure in the
+shadowy uncertainty of that October morning. He was the first to reach
+the place of meeting, but he had scarcely entered the meadow when
+Fentress rode up, attended by Tom Ware. They dismounted, and the colonel
+lifted his hat. Mahaffy barely acknowledged the salute; he was in no
+mood for courtesies that meant nothing. Ware was clearly of the same
+mind.
+
+There was an awkward pause, then Fentress and Ware spoke together in
+a low tone. The planter's speech was broken and hoarse, and his heavy,
+bloodshot eyes were the eyes of a haunted man; this was all a part of
+Fentress' scheme to face the world, and Ware still believed that the
+fires Hicks had kindled had served his desperate need.
+
+When the first long shadows stole out from the edge of the woods
+Fentress turned to Mahaffy, whose glance was directed toward the distant
+corner of the field, where he knew his friend must first appear.
+
+“Why are we waiting, sir?” he demanded, his tone cold and formal.
+
+“Something has occurred to detain Price,” answered Mahaffy.
+
+The colonel and Ware exchanged looks. Again they spoke together, while
+Mahaffy watched the road. Ten minutes slipped by in this manner, and
+once more Fentress addressed Mahaffy.
+
+“Do you know what could have detained him?” he inquired, the ghost of a
+smile curling his thin lips.
+
+“I don't,” said Mahaffy, and relapsed into a moody and anxious silence.
+He held dueling in very proper abhorrence, and only his feeling of
+intense but never-declared loyalty to his friend had brought him there.
+
+Another interval of waiting succeeded.
+
+“I have about reached the end of my patience; I shall wait just ten
+minutes longer,” said Fentress, and drew out his watch.
+
+“Something has happened--” began Mahaffy.
+
+“I have kept my engagement; he should have kept his,” Fentress
+continued, addressing Ware. “I am sorry to have brought you here for
+nothing, Tom.”
+
+“Wait!” said Mahaffy, planting himself squarely before Fentress.
+
+“I consider this comic episode at an end,” and Fentress pocketed his
+watch.
+
+“Scarcely!” rejoined Mahaffy. His long arm shot out and the open palm of
+his hand descended on the colonel's face. “I am here for my friend,” he
+said grimly.
+
+The colonel's face paled and colored by turns.
+
+“Have you a weapon?” he asked, when he could command his voice. Mahaffy
+exhibited the pistol he had carried to Belle Plain the day before.
+
+“Step off the ground, Tom.” Fentress spoke quietly. When Ware had done
+as he requested, the colonel spoke again. “You are my witness that I was
+the victim of an unprovoked attack.”
+
+Mr. Ware accepted this statement with equanimity, not to say
+indifference.
+
+“Are you ready?” he asked; he glanced at Mahaffy, who by a slight
+inclination of the head signified that he was. “I reckon you're a green
+hand at this sort of thing?” commented Tom evilly.
+
+“Yes,” said Mahaffy tersely.
+
+“Well, listen: I shall count, one, two, three; at the word three you
+will fire. Now take your positions.”
+
+Mahaffy and the colonel stood facing each other, a distance of twelve
+paces separating them. Mahaffy was pale but dogged, he eyed Fentress
+unflinchingly. Quick on the word Fentress fired, an instant later
+Mahaffy's pistol exploded; apparently neither bullet had taken effect,
+the two men maintained the rigid attitude they had assumed; then Mahaffy
+was seen to turn on his heels, next his arm dropped to his side and the
+pistol slipped from his fingers, a look of astonishment passed over his
+face and left it vacant and staring while his right hand stole up toward
+his heart; he raised it slowly, with difficulty, as though it were held
+down by some invisible weight.
+
+A hush spread across the field. It was like one of nature's invisible
+transitions. Along the edge of the woods the song of birds was stricken
+into silence. Ware, heavy-eyed Fentress, his lips twisted by a tortured
+smile, watched Mahaffy as he panted for breath, with his hand clenched
+against his chest. That dead oppressive silence lasted but a moment,
+from out of it came a cry that smote on the wounded man's ears and
+reached his consciousness.
+
+“It's Price--” he gasped, his words bathed in blood, and he pitched
+forward on his face.
+
+Ware and Fentress had heard the cry, too, and running to their horses
+threw themselves into the saddle and galloped off. The judge midway of
+the meadow roared out a furious protest but the mounted men turned into
+the highroad and vanished from sight, and the judge's shaking legs bore
+him swiftly in the direction of the gaunt figure on the ground.
+
+Mahaffy struggled to rise, for he was hearing his friend's voice now,
+the voice of utter anguish, calling his name. At last painful effort
+brought him to his knees. He saw the judge, clothed principally in
+a gaily colored bed-quilt, hatless and shoeless, his face sodden and
+bleary from his night's debauch. Mahaffy stood erect and staggered
+toward him, his hand over his wound, his features drawn and livid, then
+with a cry he dropped at his friend's feet.
+
+“Solomon! Solomon!” And the judge knelt beside him.
+
+“It's all right, Price; I kept your appointment,” whispered Mahaffy; a
+bloody spume was gathering on his lips, and he stared up at his friend
+with glassy eyes.
+
+In very shame the judge hid his face in his hands, while sobs shook him.
+
+“Solomon--Solomon, why did you do this?” he cried miserably.
+
+The harsh lines on the dying man's face erased themselves.
+
+“You're the only friend I've known in twenty years of loneliness, Price.
+I've loved you like a brother,” he panted, with a pause between each
+word.
+
+Again the judge buried his face in his hands.
+
+“I know it, Solomon--I know it!” he moaned wretchedly.
+
+“Price, you are still a man to be reckoned with. There's the boy; take
+your place for his sake and keep it--you can.”
+
+“I will--by God, I will!” gasped the judge. “You hear me? You hear me,
+Solomon? By God's good help, I will!”
+
+“You have the president's letter--I saw it,” said Mahaffy in a whisper.
+
+“Yes!” cried the judge. “Solomon, the world is changing for us!”
+
+“For me most of all,” murmured Mahaffy, and there was a bleak instant
+when the judge's ashen countenance held the full pathos of age and
+failure. “Remember your oath, Price,” gasped the dying man. A moment of
+silence succeeded. Mahaffy's eyes closed, then the heavy lids slid back.
+He looked up at the judge while the harsh lines of his sour old face
+softened wonderfully. “Kiss me, Price,” he whispered, and as the judge
+bent to touch him on the brow, the softened lines fixed themselves in
+death, while on his lips lingered a smile that was neither bitter nor
+sneering.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. A CRISIS AT THE COURT-HOUSE
+
+
+In that bare upper room they had shared, the judge, crushed and broken,
+watched beside the bed on which the dead man lay; unconscious of the
+flight of time he sat with his head bowed in his hands, having scarcely
+altered his position since he begged those who carried Mahaffy up the
+narrow stairs to leave him alone with his friend.
+
+He was living over the past. He recalled his first meeting with Mahaffy
+in the stuffy cabin of the small river packet from which they had later
+gone ashore at Pleasantville; he thanked God that it had been given
+him to see beneath Solomon's forbidding exterior and into that starved
+heart! He reviewed each phase of the almost insensible growth of their
+intimacy; he remembered Mahaffy's fine true loyalty at the time of his
+arrest--he thought of Damon and Pythias--Mahaffy had reached the heights
+of a sublime devotion; he could only feel enobled that he had inspired
+it.
+
+At last the dusk of twilight invaded the room. He lighted the candles
+on the chimneypiece, then he resumed his seat and his former attitude.
+Suddenly he became aware of a small hand that was resting on his arm and
+glanced up; Hannibal had stolen quietly into the room. The boy pointed
+to the still figure on the bed.
+
+“Judge, what makes Mr. Mahaffy lie so quiet--is he dead?” he asked in a
+whisper.
+
+“Yes, dear lad,” began the judge in a shaking voice as he drew Hannibal
+toward him, “your friend and mine is dead--we have lost him.” He lifted
+the boy into his lap, and Hannibal pressed a tear-stained face against
+the judge's shoulder. “How did you get here?” the judge questioned
+gently.
+
+“Uncle Bob fetched me,” said Hannibal. “He's down-stairs, but he didn't
+tell me Mr. Mahaffy was dead-”
+
+“We have sustained a great loss, Hannibal, and we must never forget the
+moral grandeur of the man. Some day, when you are older, and I can bring
+myself to speak of it, I will tell you of his last moments.” The judge's
+voice broke, a thick sob rose chokingly in his throat. “Poor Solomon! A
+man of such tender feeling that he hid it from the world, for his was a
+rare nature which only revealed itself to the chosen few he honored with
+his love.” The judge lapsed into a momentary brooding silence, in which
+his great arms drew the boy closer against his heart. “Dear lad, since I
+left you at Belle Plain a very astonishing knowledge has come to me.
+It was the Hand of Providence--I see it now--that first brought us
+together. You must not call me judge any more; I am your grandfather
+your mother was my daughter.”
+
+Hannibal instantly sat erect and looked up at the judge, his blue eyes
+wide with amazement at this extraordinary statement.
+
+“It is a very strange story, Hannibal, and its links are not all in my
+hands, but I am sure because of what I already know. I, who thought that
+not a drop of my blood flowed in any veins but my own, live again in
+you. Do you understand what I am telling you? Your are my own dear
+little grandson--” and the judge looked down with no uncertain love and
+pride into the small face upturned to his.
+
+“I am glad if you are my grandfather, judge,” said Hannibal very
+gravely. “I always liked you.”
+
+“Thank you, dear lad,” responded the judge with equal gravity, and then
+as Hannibal nestled back in his grandfather's arms a single big tear
+dropped from the end of that gentleman's prominent nose.
+
+“There will be many and great changes in store for us,” continued the
+judge. “But as we met adversity with dignity, I am sure we shall be able
+to endure prosperity with equanimity, only unworthy natures are affected
+by what is at best superficial and accidental. I mean that the blight of
+poverty is about to be lifted from our lives.”
+
+“Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?” asked
+Hannibal.
+
+The judge regarded him with infinite tenderness of expression; he was
+profoundly moved.
+
+“Would you mind saying that again, dear lad?”
+
+“Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?”
+ repeated Hannibal.
+
+“I shall enjoy an adequate competency which I am about to recover. It
+will be sufficient for the indulgence of those simple and intellectual
+tastes I propose to cultivate for the future.” In spite of himself the
+judge sighed. This was hardly in line with his ideals, but the right to
+choose was no longer his. “You will be very rich, Hannibal. The Quintard
+lands--your grandmother was a Quintard--will be yours; they run up into
+the hundred of thousand of acres here about; this land will all be yours
+as soon as I can establish your identity.”
+
+“Will Uncle Bob be rich too?” inquired Hannibal.
+
+“Certainly. How can he be poor when we possess wealth?” answered the
+judge.
+
+“You reckon he will always live with us, don't you, grandfather?”
+
+“I would not have it otherwise. I admire Mr. Yancy--he is simple and
+direct, and fit for any company under heaven except that of fools. His
+treatment of you has placed me under everlasting obligations; he shall
+share what we have. My one bitter, unavailing regret is that Solomon
+Mahaffy will not be here to partake of our altered fortunes.” And the
+judge sighed deeply.
+
+“Uncle Bob told me Mr. Mahaffy got hurt in a duel, grandfather?” said
+Hannibal.
+
+“He was as inexperienced as a child in the use of firearms, and he had
+to deal with scoundrels who had neither mercy nor generous feeling--but
+his courage was magnificent.”
+
+Presently Hannibal was deep in his account of those adventures he had
+shared with Miss Betty.
+
+“And Miss Malroy--where is she now?” asked the judge, in the first pause
+of the boy's narrative.
+
+“She's at Mr. Bowen's house. Mr. Carrington and Mr. Cavendish are
+here too. Mrs. Cavendish stayed down yonder at the Bates' plantation.
+Grandfather, it were Captain Murrell who had me stole--do you reckon he
+was going to take me back to Mr. Bladen?”
+
+“I will see Miss Malroy in the morning. We must combine--our interests
+are identical. There should be hemp in this for more than one scoundrel!
+I can see now how criminal my disinclination to push myself to the front
+has been!” said the judge, with conviction. “Never again will I shrink
+from what I know to be a public duty.”
+
+A little later they went down-stairs, where the judge had Yancy make up
+a bed for himself and Hannibal on the floor. He would watch alone beside
+Mahaffy, he was certain this would have been the dead man's wish; then
+he said good night and mounted heavily to the floor above to resume his
+vigil and his musings.
+
+Just at daybreak Yancy was roused by the pressure of a hand on his
+shoulder, and opening his eyes saw that the judge was bending over him.
+
+“Dress!” he said briefly. “There's every prospect of trouble--get your
+rifle and come with me!”
+
+Yancy noted that this prospect of trouble seemed to afford the judge
+a pleasurable sensation; indeed, he had quite lost his former air of
+somber and suppressed melancholy.
+
+“I let you sleep, thinking you needed the rest,” the judge went on.
+“But ever since midnight we've been on the verge of riot and possible
+bloodshed. They've arrested John Murrell--it's claimed he's planned a
+servile rebellion! A man named Hues, who had wormed his way into his
+confidence, made the arrest. He carried Murrell into Memphis, but the
+local magistrate, intimidated, most likely, declined to have anything to
+do with holding him. In spite of this, Hues managed to get his prisoner
+lodged in jail, but along about nightfall the situation began to look
+serious. Folks were swarming into town armed to the teeth, and Hues
+fetched Murrell across country to Raleigh--”
+
+“Yes?” said Yancy.
+
+“Well, the sheriff has refused to take Murrell into custody. Hues has
+him down at the court-house, but whether or not he is going to be able
+to hold him is another matter!”
+
+Yancy and Hannibal had dressed by this time, and the judge led the way
+from the house. The Scratch Hiller looked about him. Across the street
+a group of men, the greater number of whom were armed, stood in front
+of Pegloe's tavern. Glancing in the direction of the court-house, he
+observed that the square before it held other groups. But what impressed
+him more was the ominous silence that was everywhere. At his elbow the
+judge was breathing deep.
+
+“We are face to face with a very deplorable condition, Mr. Yancy. Court
+was to sit here to-day, but judge Morrow and the public prosecutor have
+left town, and as you see, Murrell's friends have gathered for a rescue.
+There's a sprinkling of the better element--but only a sprinkling. I saw
+judge Morrow this morning at four o'clock--I told him I would obligate
+myself to present for his consideration evidence of a striking and
+sensational character, evidence which would show conclusively that
+Murrell should be held to await the action of the next grand jury--this
+was after a conference with Hues--I guaranteed his safety. Sir, the man
+refused to listen to me! He showed himself utterly devoid of any feeling
+of public duty.” The bitter sense of failure and futility was leaving
+the judge. The situation made its demands on that basic faith in his own
+powers which remained imbedded in his character.
+
+They had entered the court-house square. 'On the steps of the building
+Betts was arguing loudly with Hues, who stood in the doorway, rifle in
+hand.
+
+“Maybe you don't know this is county property?” the sheriff was saying.
+“And that you have taken unlawful possession of it for an unlawful
+purpose? I am going to open them doors-a passel of strangers can't keep
+folks out of a building their own money has bought and paid for!” While
+he was speaking, the judge had pushed his way through the crowd to the
+foot of the steps.
+
+“That was very nicely said, Mr. Betts,” observed the judge. He smiled
+widely and sweetly. The sheriff gave him a hostile glare. “Do you know
+that Morrow has left town?” the judge went on.
+
+“I ain't got nothing to do with judge Morrow. It's my duty to see that
+this building is ready for him when he's a mind to open court in it.”
+
+“You are willing to assume the responsibility of throwing open these
+doors?” inquired the judge affably.
+
+“I shorely am,” said Betts. “Why, some of these folks are our leading
+people!”
+
+The judge turned to the crowd, and spoke in a tone of excessive
+civility. “Just a word, gentlemen!--the sheriff is right; it is your
+court-house and you should not be kept out of it. No doubt there are
+some of you whose presence in this building will sooner or later be
+urgently desired. We are going to let all who wish to enter, but I beg
+you to remember that there will be five men inside whose prejudices
+are all in favor of law and order.” He pushed past Hues and entered the
+court-house, followed by Yancy and Hannibal. “We'll let 'em in where I
+can talk to 'em,” he said almost gaily. “Besides, they'll come in anyhow
+when they get ready, so there's no sense in exciting them.”
+
+In the court-house, Murrell, bound hand and foot, was seated between
+Carrington and the Earl of Lambeth in the little railed-off space below
+the judge's bench. Fear and suffering had blanched his unshaven cheeks
+and given a wild light to his deeply sunken eyes. At sight of Yancy a
+smothered exclamation broke from his lips, he had supposed this man dead
+these many months!
+
+Hues had abandoned his post and the crowd, suddenly grown clamorous,
+stormed the narrow entrance. One of the doors, borne from its hinges,
+went down with a crash. The judge, a fierce light flashing from his
+eyes, turned to Yancy.
+
+“No matter what happens, this fellow Murrell is not to escape--if he
+calls on his friends to rescue him he is to be shot!”
+
+The hall was filling with swearing, struggling men, the floor shook
+beneath their heavy tread; then they burst into the court-room and
+saluted Murrell with a great shout. But Murrell, bound, in rags, and
+silent, his lips frozen in a wolfish grin, was a depressing sight, and
+the boldest felt something of his unrestrained lawlessness go from him.
+
+Less noisy now, the crowd spread itself out among the benches or swarmed
+up into the tiny gallery at the back of the building. Man after man had
+hurried forward, intent on passing beyond the railing, but each lead
+encountered the judge, formidable and forbidding, and had turned
+aside. Gradually the many pairs of eyes roving over the little group
+surrounding the outlaw focussed themselves on Slocum Price. It was in
+unconscious recognition of that moral force which was his, a tribute to
+the grim dignity of his unshaken courage; what he would do seemed worth
+considering.
+
+He was charmed to hear his name pass in a whisper from lip to lip. Well,
+it was time they knew him! He squared his ponderous shoulders and made a
+gesture commanding silence. Battered, shabby and debauched, he was
+like some old war horse who sniffs the odor of battle that the wind
+incontinently brings to his nostrils.
+
+“Don't let him speak!” cried a voice, and a tumult succeeded.
+
+Cool and indomitable the judge waited for it to subside. He saw that the
+color was stealing back into Murrell's face. The outlaw was feeling that
+he was a leader not overthrown, these were his friends and followers,
+his safety was their safety too. In a lull in the storm of sound the
+judge attempted to make himself heard, but his words were lost in the
+angry roar that descended on him.
+
+“Don't let him speak! Kill him! Kill him!”
+
+A score of men sprang to their feet and from all sides came the click
+of rifle and pistol hammers as they were drawn to the full cock. The
+judge's fate seemed to rest on a breath. He swung about on his heel and
+gave a curt nod to Yancy and Cavendish, who, falling back a step, tossed
+their guns to their shoulders and covered Murrell. A sudden hush grew up
+out of the tumult; the cries, angry and jeering, dwindled to a murmur,
+and a dead pall of silence rested on the crowded room.
+
+The very taste of triumph was in the judge's mouth. Then came a
+commotion at the back of the building, a whispered ripple of comment,
+and Colonel Fentress elbowed his way through the crowd. At sight of his
+enemy the judge's face went from white to red, while his eyes blazed;
+but for the moment the force of his emotions left him speechless. Here
+and there, as he advanced, Fentress recognized a friend and bowed coolly
+to the right and left.
+
+“What does this ridiculous mockery mean?” he demanded harshly. “Mr.
+Sheriff, as a member of the bar, I protest! Why don't you clear the
+building?” He did not wait for Betts to answer him, but continued.
+“Where is this man Hues?”
+
+“Yonder, Colonel, by the captain,” said Betts.
+
+“I have a warrant for his arrest. You will take him into custody.”
+
+“Wait!” cried the judge. “I represent Mr. Hues. I desire to see that
+warrant!”
+
+But Fentress ignored him. He addressed the crowded benches.
+
+“Gentlemen, it is a serious matter forcibly to seize a man without
+authority from the courts and expose him to the danger of mob
+violence--Mr. Hues will learn this before we have done with him.”
+
+Instantly there was a noisy demonstration that swelled into a burst
+of applause, which quickly spent itself. The struggle seemed to have
+narrowed to an individual, contest for supremacy between Fentress and
+the judge. On the edge of the railed off space they confronted each
+other: the colonel, a tall, well-cared-for presence; the judge shabby
+and unkempt. For a moment their eyes met, while the judge's face purpled
+and paled, and purpled again. The silence deepened. Fentress' thin lips
+opened, twitched, but no sound came from them; then his glance wavered
+and fell. He turned away.
+
+“Mr. Sheriff!” he called sharply.
+
+“All right, Colonel!”
+
+“Take your man into custody,” ordered Fentress. As he spoke he handed
+the warrant to Betts, who looked at it, grinned, and stepped toward
+Hues. He would have pushed the judge aside had not that gentleman,
+bowing civilly, made way for him.
+
+“In my profound respect for the law and properly constituted authority I
+yield to no man, not even to Colonel Fentress,” he said, with a gracious
+gesture. “I would not place the slightest obstacle in the way of its
+sanctioned manifestation. Colonel Fentress comes here with that high
+sanction.” He bowed again ceremoniously to the colonel. “I repeat, I
+respect his dependence upon the law!” He whirled suddenly.
+
+“Cavendish--Yancy--Carrington--I call upon you to arrest John Murrell! I
+do this by virtue of the authority vested in me as a judge of the United
+States Federal Court. His crime--a mere trifle, my friends--passing
+counterfeit money! Colonel Fentress will inform you that this is a
+violation of the law which falls within my jurisdiction,” and he beamed
+blandly on Fentress.
+
+“It's a lie!” cried the colonel.
+
+“You'll answer for that later!” said the judge, with abrupt austerity of
+tone.
+
+“For all we know you may be some fugitive from justice! Why, your name
+isn't Price!”
+
+“Are you sure of that?” asked the judge quickly.
+
+“You're an impostor! Your name is Turberville!”
+
+“Permit me to relieve your apprehensions. It is Turberville who has
+received the appointment. Would you like to examine my credentials?--I
+have them by me--no? I am obliged for your introduction. It could not
+have come at a more timely moment!” The judge seemed to dismiss Fentress
+contemptuously. Once more he faced the packed benches. “Put down your
+weapons!” he commanded. “This man Murrell will not be released. At the
+first effort at rescue he will be shot where he sits--we have sworn
+it--his plotting is at an end.” He stalked nearer the benches. “Not one
+chance in a thousand remains to him. Either he dies here or he lives to
+betaken before every judge in the state, if necessary, until we find one
+with courage to try him! Make no mistake--it will best conserve the ends
+of justice to allow the state court's jurisdiction in this case; and I
+pledge myself to furnish evidence which will start him well on his road
+to the gallows!” The judge, a tremendous presence, stalked still nearer
+the benches. Outfacing the crowd, a sense of the splendor of the part
+he was being called upon to play flowed through him like some elixir;
+he felt that he was transcending himself, that his inspiration was drawn
+from the hidden springs of the spirit, and that he could neither falter
+nor go astray. “You don't know what you are meddling with! This man
+has plotted to lay the South in ruins--he has been arming the
+negroes--it--it is incredible that you should all know this--to such I
+say, go home and thank God for your escape! For the others”--his shaggy
+brows met in a menacing frown--“if they force our hand we will toss them
+John Murrell's dead carcass--that's our answer to their challenge!”
+
+He strode out among the gun muzzles which wavered where they still
+covered him. He was thinking of Mahaffy--Mahaffy, who had said he was
+still a man to be reckoned with. For the comfort of his own soul he was
+proving it.
+
+“Do you know what a servile insurrection means?--you men who have wives
+and daughters, have you thought of their fate? Of the monstrous savagery
+to which they would be exposed? Do you believe he could limit and
+control it? Look at him! Why, he has never had a consideration outside
+of his own safety, and yet he expects you to risk your necks to save
+his! He would have left the state before the first blow was struck--his
+business was all down river--but we are going to keep him here to answer
+for his crimes! The law, as implacable as it is impartial, has put its
+mark on him--the shadow in which he sits is the shadow of the gallows!”
+
+The judge paused, but the only sound in that expectant silence was the
+heavy breathing of men. He drew his unwieldy form erect, while his voice
+rumbled on, aggressive and threatening in its every intonation.
+
+“You are here to defend something that no longer exists. Your
+organization is wrecked, your signals and passwords are known, your
+secrets have become public property--I can even produce a list of your
+members; there are none of you who do not stand in imminent peril--yet
+understand, I have no wish to strike at those who have been misled or
+coerced into joining Murrell's band!” The judge's sodden old face glowed
+now with the magnanimity of his sentiments. “But I have no feeling
+of mercy for your leaders, none for Murrell himself. Put down your
+guns!--you can only kill us after we have killed Murrell--but you can't
+kill the law! If the arch conspirator dies in this room and hour, on
+whose head will the punishment fall?” He swung round his ponderous arm
+in a sweeping gesture and shook a fat but expressive forefinger in the
+faces of those nearest him. “On yours--and yours--and yours!”
+
+Across the space that separated them the judge grinned his triumph at
+his enemy. He had known when Fentress entered the room that a word or
+a sign from him would precipitate a riot, but he knew now that neither
+this word nor this sign would be given. Then quite suddenly he strode
+down the aisle, and foot by foot Fentress yielded ground before his
+advance. A murderous light flashed from the judge's bloodshot eyes and
+his right hand was stealing toward the frayed tails of his coat.
+
+“Look out--he's getting ready to shoot!” cried a frightened voice.
+
+Instantly by doors and windows the crowd, seized with inexplicable
+panic, emptied itself into the courthouse yard. Fentress was caught
+up in the rush and borne from the room and from the building. When he
+reached the graveled space below the steps he turned. The judge was in
+the doorway, the center of a struggling group; Mr. Bowen, the minister,
+Mr. Saul and Mr. Wesley were vainly seeking to pinion his arm.
+
+“Draw--damn you!” he roared at Fentress, as he wrenched himself free,
+and the crowd swayed to right and left as Fentress was seen to reach for
+his pistol.
+
+Mr. Saul made a last frantic effort to restrain his friend; he seized
+the judge's arm just as the latter's finger pressed the trigger, and
+an instant later Fentress staggered back with the judge's bullet in his
+shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. THE END AND THE BEGINNING
+
+
+It was not strange that a number of gentlemen in and about Raleigh
+yielded to an overmastering impulse to visit newer lands, nor was it
+strange that the initial steps looking toward the indulgence of their
+desires should have been taken in secrecy. Mr. Pegloe was one of the
+first to leave; Mr. Saul had informed him of the judge's declared
+purpose of shooting him on sight. Even without this useful hint the
+tavern-keeper had known that he should experience intense embarrassment
+in meeting the judge; this was now a dreary certainty.
+
+“You reckon he means near all he says?” he had asked, his fat sides
+shaking.
+
+“I'd take his word a heap quicker than I would most folks,” answered Mr.
+Saul with conviction.
+
+Pegloe promptly had a sinking spell. He recalled the snuffing of
+the candles by the judge, an extremely depressing memory under the
+circumstances, also the reckless and headlong disregard of consequences
+which had characterized so many of that gentleman's acts, and his plans
+shaped themselves accordingly, with this result: that when the judge
+took occasion to call at the tavern, and the hostile nature of his visit
+was emphasized by the cautious manner of his approach, he was greatly
+shocked to discover that his intended victim had sold his business
+overnight for a small lump sum to Mr. Saul's brother-in-law, who had
+appeared most opportunely with an offer.
+
+Pegloe's flight created something of a sensation, but it was dwarfed by
+the sensation that developed a day or so later when it became known
+that Tom Ware and Colonel Fentress had likewise fled the country. Still
+later, Fentress' body, showing marks of violence, was washed ashore at a
+wood-yard below Girard. It was conjectured that he and Ware had set
+out from The Oaks to cross the river; there was reason to believe that
+Fentress had in his possession at the time a considerable sum of money,
+and it was supposed that his companion had murdered and robbed him. Of
+Ware's subsequent career nothing was ever known.
+
+These were, after all, only episodes in the collapse of the Clan,
+sporific manifestations of the great work of disintegration that was
+going forward and which the judge, more than any other, perhaps, had
+brought about. This was something no one questioned, and he quickly
+passed to the first phase of that unique and peculiar esteem in which he
+was ever after held. His fame widened with the succeeding suns; he had
+offers of help which impressed him as so entirely creditable to human
+nature that he quite lacked the heart to refuse them, especially as he
+felt that in the improvement of his own condition the world had bettered
+itself and was moving nearer those sound and righteous ideals of
+morality and patriotism which had never lacked his indorsement, no
+matter how inexpedient it had seemed for him to put them into practice.
+But he was not diverted from his ultimate purpose by the glamour of
+a present popularity; he was able to keep his bleared eyes resolutely
+fixed on the main chance, namely the Fentress estate and the Quintard
+lands. It was highly important that he should go east to South Carolina
+to secure documentary evidence that would establish his own and
+Fentress' identity, to Kentucky, where Fentress had lived prior to his
+coming to Tennessee.
+
+Early in November the judge set out by stage on his journey east; he was
+accompanied by Yancy and Hannibal, from neither of whom could he bring
+himself to be separated; and as the woods, flaming now with the touch of
+frost, engulfed the little town, he turned in his seat and looked back.
+He had entered it by that very road, a beggar on foot and in rags;
+he was leaving it in broadcloth and fine linen, visible tokens of his
+altered fortunes. More than this, he could thrust his hands deep down
+into his once empty pockets and hear the clink of gold and silver. The
+judge slowly withdrew his eyes from the last gray roof that showed among
+the trees, and faced the east and the future with a serenely confident
+expression.
+
+Betty Malroy and Carrington had ridden into Raleigh to take leave of
+their friends. They had watched the stage from sight, had answered the
+last majestic salute the judge had given them across the swaying top of
+the coach before the first turn of the road hid it from sight, and then
+they had turned their horses' heads in the direction of Belle Plain.
+
+“Bruce, do you think judge Price will ever be able to accomplish all he
+hopes to?” Betty asked when they had left the town behind. She drew
+in her horse as she spoke, and they went forward at a walk under the
+splendid arch of the forest and over a carpet of vivid leaves.
+
+“I reckon he will, Betty,” responded Carrington. Unfavorable as had
+been his original estimate of the judge's character, events had greatly
+modified it.
+
+“He really seems quite sure, doesn't he?” said Betty.
+
+“There's not a doubt in his mind,” agreed Carrington.
+
+He was still at Belle Plain, living in what had been Ware's office,
+while the Cavendishes were domiciled at the big house. He had arranged
+with the judge to crop a part of that hopeful gentleman's land the very
+next season; the fact that a lawsuit intervened between the judge and
+possession seemed a trifling matter, for Carrington had become infected
+with the judge's point of view, which did not admit of the possibility
+of failure; but he had not yet told Betty of his plans. Time enough for
+that when he left Belle Plain.
+
+His silence concerning the future had caused Betty much thought. She
+wondered if he still intended going south into the Purchase; she was not
+sure but it was the dignified thing for him to do. She was thinking of
+this now as they went forward over the rustling leaves, and at length
+she turned in the saddle and faced him.
+
+“I am going to miss Hannibal dreadfully--yes, and the judge, and Mr.
+Yancy!” she began.
+
+“And when I leave--how about me, Betty?” Carrington asked unexpectedly,
+but he only had in mind leaving Belle Plain.
+
+A little sigh escaped Betty's red lips, for she was thinking of the
+Purchase, which lay far down the river, many, many miles distant. The
+sigh was ever so little, but Carrington had heard it.
+
+“I am to be missed, too, am I, Betty?” he inquired, leaning toward her.
+
+“You, Bruce?--Oh, I shall miss you, too--dreadfully--but then, perhaps
+in five years, when you come back--”
+
+“Five years!” cried Carrington, but he understood, something of what
+was passing in her mind, and laughed shortly. “Five years, Betty?” he
+repeated, dwelling on the numeral.
+
+Betty hesitated and looked thoughtful. Presently she stole a
+surreptitious glance at Carrington from under her long lashes, and went
+on slowly, as though she were making careful choice of her words.
+
+“When you come back in three years, Bruce--”
+
+Carrington still regarded her fixedly. There was a light in his black
+eyes that seemed to penetrate to the most secret recesses of her heart
+and soul.
+
+“Three years, Betty?” he repeated again.
+
+Betty, her eyes cast down, twisted her rein nervously between her slim,
+white fingers, but Carrington's steady glance never left her sweet face,
+framed by its halo of bright hair. She stole another look at him from
+beneath her dark lashes.
+
+“Three years, Betty?” he prompted.
+
+“Bruce, don't stare at me that way, it makes me forget what I was going
+to say! When you come, back--next year--” and then she lifted her eyes
+to his and he saw that they were full of sudden tears. “Bruce, don't go
+away--don't go away at all--”
+
+Carrington slipped from the saddle and stood at her side.
+
+“Do you mean that, Betty?” he asked. He took her hands loosely in his
+and relentlessly considered her crimsoned face. “I reckon it will always
+be right hard to refuse you anything--here is one settler the Purchase
+will never get!” and he laughed softly.
+
+“It was the Purchase--you were going there!” she cried.
+
+“No, I wasn't, Betty; that notion died its natural death long ago. When
+we are sure you will be safe at Belle Plain with just the Cavendishes,
+I am going into Raleigh to wait as best I can until spring.” He spoke so
+gravely, that she asked in quick alarm.
+
+“And then, Bruce--what?”
+
+“And then--Oh, Betty, I'm starving--” All in a moment he lifted her
+slender figure in his arms, gathering her close to him. “And then,
+this--and this--and this, sweetheart--and more--and--oh, Betty! Betty!”
+
+When Murrell was brought to trial his lawyers were able to produce a
+host of witnesses whose sworn testimony showed that so simple a thing as
+perjury had no terrors for them. His fight for liberty was waged in and
+out of court with incredible bitterness, and, as judge and jury were
+only human, the outlaw escaped with the relatively light sentence of
+twelve years' imprisonment; he died, however, before the expiration of
+his term.
+
+The judge, where he returned to Raleigh, resumed his own name of
+Turberville, and he allowed it to be known that he would not be offended
+by the prefix of General. During his absence he had accumulated a wealth
+of evidence of undoubted authenticity, with the result that his claim
+against the Fentress estate was sustained by the courts, and when
+The Oaks with its stock and slaves was offered for sale, he, as the
+principal creditor, was able to buy it in.
+
+One of his first acts after taking possession of the property was to
+have Mahaffy reinterred in the grove of oaks below his bedroom windows,
+and he marked the spot with a great square of granite. The judge,
+visibly shaken by his emotions, saw the massive boulder go into place.
+
+“Harsh and rugged like the nature of him who lies beneath it--but
+enduring, too, as he was,” he murmured. He turned to Yancy and Hannibal,
+and added,
+
+“You will lay me beside him when I die.”
+
+Then when the bitter struggle came and he was wrenched and tortured by
+longings, his strength was in remembering his promise to the dead man,
+and it was his custom to go out under the oaks and pace to and fro
+beside Mahaffy's grave until he had gained the mastery of himself. Only
+Yancy and Hannibal knew how fierce the conflict was he waged, yet in the
+end he won that best earned of all victories, the victory over himself.
+
+“My salvation has been a costly thing; it was bought with the blood of
+my friend,” he told Yancy.
+
+It was Hannibal's privilege to give Cavendish out of the vast Quintard
+tract such a farm as the earl had never dreamed of owning even in his
+most fervid moments of imagining; and he abandoned all idea of going to
+England to claim his title. At the judge's suggestion he named the
+place Earl's Court. He and Polly were entirely satisfied with their
+surroundings, and never ceased to congratulate themselves that they had
+left Lincoln County. They felt that their friends the Carringtons at
+Belle Plain, though untitled people, were still of an equal rank with
+themselves; while as for the judge, they doubted if royalty itself laid
+it any over him.
+
+Mr. Yancy accepted his changed fortunes with philosophic composure.
+Technically he filled the position of overseer at The Oaks, but the
+judge's activity was so great that this position was largely a sinecure.
+The most arduous work he performed was spending his wages.
+
+Certain trifling peculiarities survived with the judge even after he
+had entered what he had once been prone to call the Portal of Hope; for
+while his charity was very great and he lived with the splendid air of
+plenty that belonged to an older order, it required tact, patience, and
+persistence to transact business with him; and his creditors, of whom
+there were always a respectable number, discovered that he esteemed them
+as they were aggressive and determined. He explained to Yancy that too
+great certainty detracted from the charm of living, for, after all, life
+was a game--a gamble--he desired to be reminded of this. Yet he was
+held in great respect for his wisdom and learning, which was no more
+questioned that his courage.
+
+Thus surrounded by his friends, who were devoted to him, he began
+Hannibal's education and the preparation of his memoirs, intended
+primarily for the instruction of his grandson, and which he modestly
+decided to call The History of My Own Times, which clearly showed the
+magnificence of his mind and its outlook.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prodigal Judge, by Vaughan Kester
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+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      The Prodigal Judge, by Vaughan Kester
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
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+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prodigal Judge, by Vaughan Kester
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Prodigal Judge
+
+Author: Vaughan Kester
+
+Release Date: May 2, 2009 [EBook #5129]
+Last Updated: March 15, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRODIGAL JUDGE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Polly Stratton, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      THE PRODIGAL JUDGE
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Vaughan Kester
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE BOY AT THE
+        BARONY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;YANCY
+        TELLS A MORAL TALE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;TROUBLE
+        AT SCRATCH HILL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LAW
+        AT BALAAM'S CROSS-ROADS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE ENCOUNTER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006">
+        CHAPTER VI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BETTY SETS OUT FOR TENNESSEE <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE FIGHT AT
+        SLOSSON'S TAVERN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;ON
+        THE RIVER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;JUDGE
+        SLOCUM PRICE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BOON
+        COMPANIONS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        ORATOR OF THE DAY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        FAMILY ON THE RAFT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE JUDGE BREAKS JAIL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014">
+        CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BELLE PLAIN <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT
+        BOGGS' <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        PORTAL OF HOPE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BOB
+        YANCY FINDS HIMSELF <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN ORPHAN MAN OF TITLE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019">
+        CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE JUDGE SEES A GHOST <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE WARNING <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THICKET POINT
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AT THE
+        CHURCH DOOR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        JUDGE OFFERS A REWARD <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE CABIN ACROSS THE BAYOU <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE JUDGE EXTENDS HIS
+        CREDIT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BETTY
+        LEAVES BELLE PLAIN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;PRISONERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER
+        XXVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE JUDGE MEETS THE SITUATION <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;COLONEL FENTRESS
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        BUBBLE BURSTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        KEEL BOAT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        RAFT AGAIN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        JUDGE RECEIVES A LETTER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER
+        XXXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE DUEL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035">
+        CHAPTER XXXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A CRISIS AT THE COURT-HOUSE <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE END AND THE
+        BEGINNING <br /><br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. THE BOY AT THE BARONY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Quintards had not prospered on the barren lands of the pine woods
+      whither they had emigrated to escape the malaria of the low coast, but
+      this no longer mattered, for the last of his name and race, old General
+      Quintard, was dead in the great house his father had built almost a
+      century before and the thin acres of the Barony, where he had made his
+      last stand against age and poverty, were to claim him, now that he had
+      given up the struggle in their midst. The two or three old slaves about
+      the place, stricken with a sense of the futility of the fight their master
+      had made, mourned for him and for themselves, but of his own blood and
+      class none was present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shy dwellers from the pine woods, lanky jeans-clad men and sunbonneted
+      women, who were gathering for the burial of the famous man of their
+      neighborhood, grouped themselves about the lawn which had long since sunk
+      to the uses of a pasture lot. Singly or by twos and threes they stole up
+      the steps and across the wide porch to the open door. On the right of the
+      long hall another door stood open, and who wished could enter the
+      drawing-room, with its splendid green and gold paper, and the wonderful
+      fireplace with the Dutch tiles that graphically depicted the story of
+      Jonah and the whale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the general lay in state. The slaves had dressed their old master in
+      the uniform he had worn as a colonel of the continental line, but the thin
+      shoulders of the wasted figure no longer filled the buff and blue coat.
+      The high-bred face, once proud and masterful no doubt, as became the face
+      of a Quintard, spoke of more than age and poverty&mdash;it was infinitely
+      sorrowful. Yet there was something harsh and unforgiving in the lines
+      death had fixed there, which might have been taken as the visible impress
+      of that mystery, the bitterness of which had misshaped the dead man's
+      nature; but the resolute lips had closed for ever on their secret, and the
+      broken spirit had gone perhaps to learn how poor a thing its pride had
+      been.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though he had lived continuously at the Barony for almost a quarter of a
+      century, there was none among his neighbors who could say he had looked on
+      that thin, aquiline face in all that time. Yet they had known much of him,
+      for the gossip of the slaves, who had been his only friends in those years
+      he had chosen to deny himself to other friends, had gone far and wide over
+      the county.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That notable man of business, Jonathan Crenshaw&mdash;and this superiority
+      was especially evident when the business chanced to be his own&mdash;was
+      closeted in the library with a stranger to whom rumor fixed the name of
+      Bladen, supposing him to be the legal representative of certain remote
+      connections of the old general's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Crenshaw sat before the flat-topped mahogany desk in the center of the
+      room with several well-thumbed account-books open before him. Bladen, in
+      riding dress, stood by the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose you will buy in the property when it comes up for sale?&rdquo; the
+      latter was saying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Crenshaw had already made it plain that General Quintard's creditors
+      would have lean pickings at the Barony, intimating that he himself was the
+      chiefest of these and the one to suffer most grievously in pocket. Further
+      than this, Mr. Bladen saw that the old house was a ruin, scarcely
+      habitable, and that the thin acres, though they were many and a royal
+      grant, were of the slightest value. Crenshaw nodded his acquiescence to
+      the lawyer's conjecture touching the ultimate fate of the Barony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon, sir, I'll want to protect myself, but if there are any of his
+      own kin who have a fancy to the place I'll put no obstacle in their way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are the other creditors?&rdquo; asked Bladen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There ain't none, sir; they just got tired waiting on him, and when they
+      began to sue and get judgment the old general would send me word to settle
+      with them, and their claims passed into my hands. I was in too deep to
+      draw out. But for the last ten years his dealings were all with me; I
+      furnished the supplies for the place here. It didn't amount to much, as
+      there was only him and the darkies, and the account ran on from year to
+      year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He lived entirely alone, saw no one, I understand,&rdquo; said Bladen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alone with his two or three old slaves&mdash;yes, sir. He wouldn't even
+      see me; Joe, his old nigger, would fetch orders for this or that. Once or
+      twice I rode out to see him, but I wa'n't even allowed inside that door;
+      the message I got was that he couldn't be disturbed, and the last time I
+      come he sent me word that if I annoyed him again he would be forced to
+      terminate our business relations. That was pretty strong talk, wa'n't it,
+      when you consider that I could have sold the roof from over his head and
+      the land from under his feet? Oh, well, I just put it down to
+      childishness.&rdquo; There was a brief pause, then Crenshaw spoke again. &ldquo;I
+      reckon, sir, if you know anything about the old general's private affairs
+      you don't feel no call to speak on that point?&rdquo; he observed, and with
+      evident regret. He had hoped that Bladen would clear up the mystery, for
+      certainly it must have been some sinister tragedy that had cost the
+      general his grip on life and for twenty years and more had made of him a
+      recluse, so that the faces of his friends had become as the faces of
+      strangers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear sir, I know nothing of General Quintard's private, history. I am
+      even unacquainted with my clients, who are distant cousins, but his
+      nearest kin&mdash;they live in South Carolina. I was merely instructed to
+      represent them in the event of his death and to look after their
+      interests.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's business,&rdquo; said Crenshaw, nodding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All I know is this: General Quintard was a conspicuous man in these parts
+      fifty years ago; that was before my time, Mr. Crenshaw, and I take it,
+      too, it was before yours; he married a Beaufort.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So he did,&rdquo; said Crenshaw, &ldquo;and there was one child, a daughter; she
+      married a South Carolinian by the name of Turberville. I remember that,
+      fo' they were married under the gallery in the hall. Great folks, those
+      Turbervilles, rolling rich. My father was manager then fo' the general&mdash;that
+      was nearly forty years ago. There was life here then, sir; the place was
+      alive with niggers and the house full of guests from one month's end to
+      another.&rdquo; He drummed on the desktop. &ldquo;Who'd a thought it wa'n't to last
+      for ever!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what became of the daughter who married Turberville?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Died years ago,&rdquo; said Crenshaw. &ldquo;She was here the last time about thirty
+      years back. It wa'n't so easy to get about in those days, no roads to
+      speak of and no stages, and besides, the old general wa'n't much here
+      nohow; her going away had sort of broken up his home, I reckon. Then the
+      place stood empty fo' a few years, most of the slaves were sold off, and
+      the fields began to grow up. No one rightly knew, but the general was
+      supposed to be traveling up yonder in the No'th, sir. As I say, things ran
+      along this way quite a while, and then one morning when I went to my store
+      my clerk says, 'There's an old white-headed nigger been waiting round here
+      fo' a word with you, Mr. Crenshaw.' It was Joe, the general's body
+      servant, and when I'd shook hands with him I said, 'When's the master
+      expected back?' You see, I thought Joe had been sent on ahead to open the
+      house, but he says, 'General Quintard's at the Barony now,' and then he
+      says, 'The general's compliments, sir, and will you see that this order is
+      filled?' Well, Mr. Bladen, I and my father had factored the Barony fo'
+      fifteen years and upward, but that was the first time the supplies fo' the
+      general's table had ever been toted here in a meal sack!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I rode out that very afternoon, but Joe, who was one of your mannerly
+      niggers, met me at the door and says, 'Mr. Crenshaw, the general
+      appreciates this courtesy, but regrets that he is unable to see you, sir.'
+      After that it wa'n't long in getting about that the general was a changed
+      man. Other folks came here to welcome him back and he refused to see them,
+      but the reason of it we never learned. Joe, who probably knew, was one of
+      your close niggers; there was, no getting anything out of him; you could
+      talk with that darky by the hour, sir, and he left you feeling emptier
+      than if he'd kept his mouth shut.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were interrupted by a knock at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in,&rdquo; said Crenshaw, a trifle impatiently, and in response to his
+      bidding the door opened and a small boy entered the room dragging after
+      him a long rifle. Suddenly overcome by a speechless shyness, he paused on
+      the threshold to stare with round, wondering eyes at the two men. &ldquo;Well,
+      sonny, what do you want?&rdquo; asked Mr. Crenshaw indulgently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy opened his mouth, but his courage failed him, and with his courage
+      went the words he would have spoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is this?&rdquo; asked Bladen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll tell, you presently,&rdquo; said Crenshaw. &ldquo;Come, speak up, sonny, what do
+      you want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, sir, I want this here old spo'tin' rifle,&rdquo; said: the child.
+      &ldquo;Please, sir, I want to keep it,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you run along on out of here with your old spo'tin' rifle!&rdquo; said
+      Crenshaw good-naturedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, sir, am I to keep it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I reckon you may keep it&mdash;least I've no objection.&rdquo; Crenshaw
+      glanced at Bladen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, by all means,&rdquo; said the latter. Spasms of delight shook the small
+      figure, and with a murmur that was meant for thanks he backed from the
+      room, closing the door. Bladen glanced inquiringly at Crenshaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You want to know about him, sir? Well, that's Hannibal Wayne Hazard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hannibal Wayne Hazard?&rdquo; repeated Bladen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir; the general was the authority on that point, but who Hannibal
+      Wayne Hazard is and how he happens to be at the Barony is another mystery&mdash;just
+      wait a minute, sir&mdash;&rdquo; and quitting his chair Mr. Crenshaw hurried
+      from the room to return almost immediately with a tall countryman. &ldquo;Mr.
+      Bladen, this is Bob Yancy. Bob, the gentleman, wants to hear about the
+      woman and the child; that's your story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Howdy, sir,&rdquo; said Mr. Yancy. He appeared to meditate on the mental effort
+      that was required of him, then he took a long breath. &ldquo;It was this a-ways&mdash;&rdquo;
+       he began with a soft drawl, and then paused. &ldquo;You give me the dates, Mr.
+      John, fo' I disremember.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was four year ago come next Christmas,&rdquo; said Crenshaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Old Christmas,&rdquo; corrected Mr. Yancy. &ldquo;Our folks always kept the old
+      Christmas like it was befo' they done mussed up the calendar. I'm agin all
+      changes,&rdquo; added Mr. Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He means the fo'teenth of December,&rdquo; explained Mr. Crenshaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not wishin' to dispute your word, Mr. John, I mean Christmas,&rdquo; objected
+      Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, very well, he means Christmas then!&rdquo; said Crenshaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The evening befo', it was, and I'd gone to Fayetteville to get my
+      Christmas fixin's; there was right much rain and some snow falling.&rdquo; Mr.
+      Yancy's guiding light was clearly accuracy. &ldquo;Just at sundown I hooked up
+      that blind mule of mine to the cart and started fo' home. As I got shut of
+      the town the stage come in and I seen one passenger, a woman. Now that
+      mule is slow, Mr. John; I'm free to say there are faster mules, but a set
+      of harness never went acrost the back of a slower critter than that one of
+      mine.&rdquo; Yancy, who thus far had addressed himself to Mr. Crenshaw, now
+      turned to Bladen. &ldquo;That mule, sir, sees good with his right eye, but it's
+      got a gait like it was looking fo' the left-hand side of the road and
+      wondering what in thunderation had got into it that it was acrost the way;
+      mules are gifted with some sense, but mighty little judgment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind the mule, Bob,&rdquo; said Crenshaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I can't make the gentleman believe in the everlasting slowness of that
+      mule of mine, my story ain't worth a hill of beans,&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The extraordinary slowness of the mule is accepted without question, Mr.
+      Yancy,&rdquo; said Bladen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm obliged to you,&rdquo; rejoined Yancy, and for a brief moment he appeared
+      to commune with himself, then he continued. &ldquo;A mile out of town I heard
+      some one sloshing through the rain after me; it was dark by that time and
+      I couldn't see who it was, so I pulled up and waited, and then I made out
+      it was a woman. She spoke when she was alongside the cart and says, 'Can
+      you drive me on to the Barony?' and it came to me it was the same woman
+      I'd seen leave the stage. When I got down to help her into the cart I saw
+      she was toting a child in her arms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did the woman look like, Bob?&rdquo; said Crenshaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She wa'n't exactly old and she wa'n't young by no manner of means; I
+      remember saying to myself, that child ain't yo's, whose ever it is. Well,
+      sir, I was willing enough to talk, but she wa'n't, she hardly spoke until
+      we came to the red gate, when she says, 'Stop, if you please, I'll walk
+      the rest of the way.' Mind you, she'd known without a word from me we were
+      at the Barony. She give me a dollar, and the last I seen of her she was
+      hurrying through the rain toting the child in her arms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Crenshaw took up the narrative.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The niggers say the old general almost had a fit when he saw her. Aunt
+      Alsidia let her into the house; I reckon if Joe had been alive she
+      wouldn't have got inside that door, spite of the night!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said Bladen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When morning come she was gone, but the child done stayed behind; we
+      always reckoned the lady walked back to Fayetteville sometime befo' day
+      and took the stage. I've heard Aunt Alsidia tell as how the old general
+      said that morning, pale and shaking like, 'You'll find a boy asleep in the
+      red room; he's to be fed and cared fo', but keep him out of my sight. His
+      name is Hannibal Wayne Hazard.' That is all the general ever said on the
+      matter. He never would see the boy, never asked after him even, and the
+      boy lived in the back of the house, with the niggers to look after him.
+      Now, sir, you know as much as we know, which is just next door to
+      nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old general was borne across what had once been the west lawn to his
+      resting-place in the neglected acre where the dead and gone of his race
+      lay, and the record of the family was complete, as far as any man knew.
+      Crenshaw watched the grave take shape with a melancholy for which he found
+      no words, yet if words could have come from the mist of ideas in which his
+      mind groped vaguely he would have said that for themselves the deeds of
+      the Quintards had been given the touch of finality, and that whether for
+      good or for evil, the consequences, like the ripple which rises from the
+      surface of placid waters when a stone is dropped, still survived somewhere
+      in the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The curious and the idle drifted back to the great house; then the memory
+      of their own affairs, not urgent, generally speaking, but still of some
+      casual interest, took them down the disused carriage-way to the red gate
+      and so off into the heat of the summer day. Crenshaw's wagon, driven by
+      Crenshaw's man, vanished in a cloud of gray dust with the two old slaves,
+      Aunt Alsidia and Uncle Ben, who were being taken to the Crenshaw place to
+      be cared for pending the settlement of the Quintard estate. Bladen parted
+      from Crenshaw with expressions of pleasure at having had the opportunity
+      of making his acquaintance, and further delivered himself of the civil
+      wish that they might soon meet again. Then Crenshaw, assisted by Bob
+      Yancy, proceeded to secure the great house against intrusion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I make it a p'int to always stay and see the plumb finish of a thing,&rdquo;
+       explained Yancy. &ldquo;Otherwise you're frequently put out by hearing of what
+      happened after you left; I can stand anything but disapp'intment of that
+      kind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They passed from room to room securing doors and windows, and at last
+      stepped out upon the back porch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo!&rdquo; said Yancy, pointing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There on a bench by the kitchen door was a small figure. It was Hannibal
+      Wayne Hazard asleep, with his old spo'tin' rifle across his knees. His
+      very existence had been forgotten.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I declare to goodness!&rdquo; said Crenshaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do with him, Mr. John?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This question nettled Crenshaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know as that is any particular affair of mine,&rdquo; he said. Now, Mr.
+      Crenshaw, though an excellent man of business, with an unblinking eye on
+      number one, was kindly, on the whole, but there was a Mrs. Crenshaw, to
+      whom he rendered a strict account of all his deeds, and that sacred
+      institution, the home, was only a tolerable haven when these deeds were
+      nicely calculated to fit with the lady's exactions. Especially was he
+      aware that Mrs. Crenshaw was averse to children as being inimical to
+      cleanliness and order, oppressive virtues that drove Crenshaw himself in
+      his hours of leisure to the woodshed, where he might spit freely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you'd rather drop a word with yo' missus before you toted him
+      home?&rdquo; suggested Yancy, who knew something of the nature of his friend's
+      domestic thraldom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A woman ought to be boss in her own house,&rdquo; said Crenshaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Feelin' the truth of that, I've never married, Mr. John; I do as I please
+      and don't have to listen to a passel of opinion. But I was going to say,
+      what's to hinder me from toting that boy to my home? There are no calico
+      petticoats hanging up in my closets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And no closets to hang 'em in, I'll be bound!&rdquo; rejoined Crenshaw. &ldquo;But if
+      you'll take the boy, Bob, you shan't lose by it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy rested a big knotted hand on the boy's shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, wake up, sonny! Yo' Uncle Bob is ready fo' to strike out home,&rdquo; he
+      said. The child roused with a start and stared into the strange bearded
+      face that was bent toward him. &ldquo;It's yo' Uncle Bob,&rdquo; continued Yancy in a
+      wheedling tone. &ldquo;Are you the little nevvy what will help him to hook up
+      that old blind mule of hisn? Here, give us the spo'tin' rifle to tote!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, sir, where is Aunt Alsidia?&rdquo; asked the child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy balanced the rifle on his great palm and his eyes assumed a
+      speculative cast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder what's to hinder us from loading this old gun, and firing this
+      old gun, and hearing this old gun go-bang! Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The child's blue eyes grew wide.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like the guns off in the woods?&rdquo; he asked, in a breathless whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like the guns a body hears off in the woods, only louder&mdash;heaps
+      louder,&rdquo; said Yancy. &ldquo;You fetch out his plunder, Mr. John,&rdquo; he added in a
+      lower tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do it now, please,&rdquo; the child cried, slipping off the bench.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was expectin' fo' to hear you name me Uncle Bob, sonny; my little
+      nevvies get almost anything they want out of me when they call me
+      that-a-ways.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, Uncle Bob, make it go bang!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You come along, then,&rdquo; and Mr. Yancy moved off in the direction of his
+      mule, the child following. &ldquo;Powder's what we want fo' to make this old
+      spo'tin' rifle talk up, and I reckon we'll find some in a horn flask in
+      the bottom of my cart.&rdquo; His expectations in this particular were realized,
+      and he loaded the rifle with a small blank charge. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; he said, shaking
+      the powder into the pan by a succession of smart taps on the breech,
+      &ldquo;sometimes these old pieces go off and sometimes they don't; it depends on
+      the flint, but you stand back of your Uncle Bob, sonny, and keep yo'
+      fingers out of yo' ears, and when you say&mdash;bang!&mdash;off she goes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment of delightful expectancy, and then&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bang!&rdquo; cried the child, and on the instant the rifle cracked. &ldquo;Do it
+      again! Please, Uncle Bob!&rdquo; he cried, wild with delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now if you was to help yo' Uncle Bob hook up that old mule of hisn and
+      ride home with him, fo' he's going pretty shortly, you and Uncle Bob could
+      do right much shootin' with this old rifle.&rdquo; Mr. Crenshaw had appeared
+      with a bundle, which he tossed into the cart. Yancy turned to him. &ldquo;If you
+      meet any inquiring friends, Mr. John, I reckon you may say that my nevvy's
+      gone fo' to pay me a visit. Most of his time will be agreeably spent
+      shootin' with this rifle at a mark, and me holdin' him so he won't get
+      kicked clean off his feet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thereafter beguiling speech flowed steadily from Mr. Yancy's bearded lips,
+      in the midst of which relations were established between the mule and
+      cart, and the boy quitted the Barony for a new world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you reckon if Uncle Bob was to let you, you could drive, sonny?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can she gallop?&rdquo; asked the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Yancy gave him a hurt glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's too much of a lady to do that,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;No, I 'low this ain't 'so
+      fast as running or walking, but it's a heap quicker than standing
+      stock-still.&rdquo; The afternoon sun waned as they went deeper and deeper into
+      the pine woods, but at last they came to their journey's end, a widely
+      scattered settlement on a hill above a branch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; said Mr. Yancy, &ldquo;are Scratch Hill, sonny. Why Scratch Hill? Some
+      say it's the fleas; others agin hold it's the eternal bother of making a
+      living here, but whether fleas or living you scratch fo' both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. YANCY TELLS A MORAL TALE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In the deep peace that rested like a benediction on the pine-clad slopes
+      of Scratch Hill the boy Hannibal followed at Yancy's heels as that
+      gentleman pursued the not arduous rounds of temperate industry which made
+      up his daily life, for if Yancy were not completely idle he was
+      responsible for a counterfeit presentment of idleness having most of the
+      merits of the real article. He toiled casually in a small cornfield and a
+      yet smaller truck patch, but his work always began late, when it began at
+      all, and he was easily dissuaded from continuing it; indeed, his attitude
+      toward it seemed to challenge interference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the winter, when the weather conditions were perfectly adjusted to meet
+      certain occult exactions he had come to require, Yancy could be induced to
+      go into the woods and there labor with his ax. But as he pointed out to
+      Hannibal, a poor man's capital was his health, and he being a poor man it
+      behooved him to have a jealous care of himself. He made use of the dull
+      days of mingled mist and drizzle for hunting, work being clearly out of
+      the question; one could get about over the brown floor of the forest in
+      silence then, and there was no sun to glint the brass mountings of his
+      rifle. The fine days he professed to regard with keen suspicion as weather
+      breeders, when it was imprudent to go far from home, especially in the
+      direction of the Crenshaw timber lands, which for years had been the scene
+      of all his gainful industry, and where he seemed to think nature ready to
+      assume her most sinister aspect. Again in the early spring, when the young
+      oak leaves were the size of squirrel's ears and the whippoorwills began
+      calling as the long shadows struck through the pine woods, the needs of
+      his corn ground battled with his desire to fish. In all such crises of the
+      soul Mr. Yancy was fairly vanquished before the struggle began; but to the
+      boy his activities were perfectly ordered to yield the largest return in
+      contentment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Barony had been offered for sale and bought in by Crenshaw for eleven
+      thousand dollars, this being the amount of his claim. Some six months
+      later he sold the plantation for fifteen thousand dollars to Nathaniel
+      Ferris, of Currituck County.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's money in the old place, Bob, at that figure,&rdquo; Crenshaw told
+      Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are so,&rdquo; agreed Yancy, who was thinking Crenshaw had lost no time
+      in getting it out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were seated on the counter in Crenshaw's store at Balaam's Cross
+      Roads, where the heavy odor of black molasses battled with the sprightly
+      smell of salt fish. The merchant held the Scratch Hiller in no small
+      esteem. Their intimacy was of long standing, for the Yancys going down and
+      the Crenshaws coming up had for a brief space flourished on the same
+      social level. Mr. Crenshaw's rise in life, however, had been
+      uninterrupted, while Mr. Yancy, wrapped in a philosophic calm and deeply
+      averse to industry, had permitted the momentum imparted by a remote
+      ancestor to carry him where it would, which was steadily away from that
+      tempered prosperity his family had once boasted as members of the
+      land-owning and slaveholding class.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean there's money in the place fo' Ferris,&rdquo; Crenshaw explained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon yo're right, Mr. John; the old general used to spend a heap on
+      the Barony and we all know he never got a cent back, so I reckon the
+      money's there yet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bladen's got an answer from them South Carolina Quintards, and they don't
+      know nothing about the boy,&rdquo; said Crenshaw, changing the subject. &ldquo;So you
+      can rest easy, Bob; they ain't going to want him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, that surely is a passel of comfort to me. I find I got all the
+      instincts of a father without having had none of the instincts of a
+      husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A richer, deeper realization of his joy came to Yancy when he had turned
+      his back on Balaam's Cross Roads and set out for home through the fragrant
+      silence of the pine woods. His probable part in the young life chance had
+      placed in his keeping was a glorious thing to the man. He had not cared to
+      speculate on the future; he had believed that friends or kindred must
+      sooner or later claim Hannibal, but now he felt wonderfully secure in
+      Crenshaw's opinion that this was not to be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just beyond the Barony, which was midway between Balaam's and the Hill,
+      down the long stretch of sandy road he saw two mounted figures, then as
+      they drew nearer he caught the flutter of skirts and recognized one of the
+      horsewomen. It was Mrs. Ferris, wife of the Barony's new owner. She reined
+      in her horse abreast of his cart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aren't you Mr. Yancy?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am, that's me&mdash;Bob Yancy.&rdquo; He regarded her with large gray
+      eyes that were frankly approving in their expression, for she was more
+      than commonly agreeable to look upon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am Mrs. Ferris, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The same here,&rdquo; murmured Yancy with winning civility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Ferris' companion leaned forward, her face averted, and stroked her
+      horse's neck with gloved hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is my friend, Miss Betty Malroy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad to know you, ma'am,&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Malroy faced him, smiling. She, too, was very good to look upon,
+      indeed she was quite radiant with youth and beauty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are just returning from Scratch Hill&mdash;I think that is what you
+      call it?&rdquo; said Mrs. Ferris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So we do,&rdquo; agreed Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the dear little boy we met is your nephew, is he not, Mr. Yancy?&rdquo; It
+      was Betty Malroy who spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a manner he is and in a manner he ain't,&rdquo; explained Yancy, somewhat
+      enigmatically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are quite a number of children at Scratch Hill?&rdquo; suggested Mrs.
+      Ferris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am, so there are; a body would naturally notice that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And no school&mdash;not a church even!&rdquo; continued Mrs. Ferris in a
+      grieved tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never has been,&rdquo; rejoined Yancy cheerfully. He seemed to champion the
+      absence of churches and schools on the score of long usage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what do the people do when they want to go to church?&rdquo; questioned
+      Mrs. Ferris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never having heard that any of 'em wanted to go I can't say just offhand,
+      but don't you fret none about that, ma'am; there are churches; one's up at
+      the Forks, and there's another at Balaam's Cross Roads.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But that's ten miles from Scratch Hill, isn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all of that,&rdquo; said Yancy. He sensed it that the lady before him, was
+      a person of much force and energy, capable even of reckless innovation.
+      Mr. Yancy himself was innately conservative; his religious inspiration had
+      been drawn from the Forks and Balaam's Cross Roads. It had seemed to
+      answer very well. Mrs. Ferris fixed his wavering glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you think it is too bad, Mr. Yancy, the way those children have
+      been neglected? There is nothing for them but to run wild.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I seen some right good children fetched up that-a-ways&mdash;smart,
+      too. You see, ma'am, there's a heap a child can just naturally pick up of
+      himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; and the monosyllable was uttered rather weakly. Mr. Yancy's name had
+      been given her as that of a resident of weight and influence in the
+      classic region of Scratch Hill. Miss Malroy came to her friend's rescue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Ferris thinks the children should have a chance to learn at home.
+      Poor little tots!&mdash;they can't walk ten or fifteen miles to
+      Sunday-school, now can they, Mr. Yancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless yo' heart, they won't try to!&rdquo; said Yancy reassuringly. &ldquo;Sunday's a
+      day of rest at Scratch Hill. So are most of the other days of the week,
+      but we all aspire to take just a little mo' rest on Sunday than any other
+      day. Sometimes we ain't able to, but that's our aim.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know the old deserted cabin by the big pine?&mdash;the Blount
+      place?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Ferris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am, I know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to have Sunday-school there for those children; they shan't be
+      neglected any longer if I can help it&mdash;I should feel guilty, quite
+      guilty! Now won't you let your little nephew come? Perhaps they'll not
+      find it so very terrible, after all.&rdquo; From which Mr. Yancy concluded that
+      when she invaded it, skepticism had rested as a mantle on Scratch Hill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every one said we would better talk with you, Mr. Yancy, and we were
+      hoping to meet you as we came along,&rdquo; supplemented Miss Malroy, and her
+      words of flattery were wafted to him with so sweet a smile that Yancy
+      instantly capitulated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you-all can count on my nevvy,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When he reached Scratch Hill, in the waning light of day, Hannibal, in a
+      state of high excitement, met him at the log shed, which served as a barn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hear you-all have been entertaining visitors while Uncle Bob was away,&rdquo;
+       observed Yancy, and remembering what Crenshaw had told him, he rested his
+      big hand on the boy's head with a special tenderness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's going to be a school in the cabin in the old field!&rdquo; said the
+      boy. &ldquo;May I go?&mdash;Oh, Uncle Bob, will you please take me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When's this here school going to begin, anyhow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow at four o'clock, she said, Uncle Bob.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's a quick lady, ain't she? Well, I expected you'd be hopping around
+      on one leg when you named it to me. You wait until Sunday and see what I
+      do fo' my nevvy,&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was as good as his implied promise, but the day began discouragingly
+      with an extra and, as it seemed to Hannibal, an unnecessary amount of soap
+      and water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You owe it to yo'self to show a clean skin in the house of worship. Just
+      suppose one of them nice ladies was to cast her eye back of yo' ears!
+      She'd surely be put out to name it offhand whether you was black or white.
+      I reckon I'll have to barber you some, too, with the shears.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's school like, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; asked Hannibal, twisting and squirming
+      under the big resolute hands of the man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't just say what it's like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, didn't you ever go to school, Uncle Bob?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't I ever go to school! Where do you reckon I got my education,
+      anyhow? I went to school several times in my young days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On a Sunday, like this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, the school I tackled was on a week-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was it hard?&rdquo; asked Hannibal, who was beginning to cherish secret
+      misgivings; for surely all this soap and water must have some sinister
+      portent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, some learn easier than others. I learned middling easy&mdash;it
+      didn't take me long&mdash;and when I felt I knowed enough I just naturally
+      quit and went on about my business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what did you learn?&rdquo; insisted the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You-all wouldn't know if I told you, because you-all ain't ever been to
+      school yo'self. When you've had yo' education we'll talk over what I
+      learned&mdash;it mostly come out of a book.&rdquo; He hoped his general
+      statement would satisfy Hannibal, but it failed to do so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's a book. Uncle Bob?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, whatever a body don't know naturally he gets out of a book. I
+      reckon the way you twist, Nevvy, mebby you'd admire fo' to lose an ear!&rdquo;
+       and Mr. Yancy refused further to discuss the knowledge he had garnered in
+      his youth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal and Yancy were the first to arrive at the deserted cabin in the
+      old field that afternoon. They found the place had been recently cleaned
+      and swept, while about the wall was ranged a row of benches; there was
+      also a table and two chairs. Yancy inspected the premises with the eye of
+      mature experience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it surely is a school; any one with an education would know that.
+      Just look!&mdash;ain't you glad yo' Uncle Bob slicked you up some, now you
+      see what them ladies has done fo' to make this place tidy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Shy children from the pine woods, big brothers with little sisters and big
+      sisters with little brothers, drifted out of the encircling forest.
+      Coincident with the arrival of the last of these stragglers Mrs. Ferris
+      and Miss Malroy appeared, attended by a colored groom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was so good of you to come, Mr. Yancy! The children won't feel so shy
+      with you here,&rdquo; said Mrs. Ferris warmly, as Yancy assisted her to
+      dismount, an act of courtesy that called for his finest courage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Ferris' missionary spirit manifested itself agreeably enough on the
+      whole. When she had ranged her flock in a solemn-faced row on the benches,
+      she began by explaining why Sunday was set apart for a day of rest,
+      touching but lightly on its deeper significance as a day of worship as
+      well; then she read certain chapters from the Bible, finishing with the
+      story of David, a narrative that made a deep impression upon Yancy,
+      comfortably seated in the doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't you tell the children a story, Mr. Yancy? Something about their own
+      neighborhood I think would be nice, something with a moral,&rdquo; the pleasant
+      earnest voice f Mrs. Ferris roused the Scratch Hiller from his
+      meditations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am, I reckon I can tell 'em a story.&rdquo; He stood up, filling the
+      doorway with his bulk. &ldquo;I can tell you-all a story about this here house,&rdquo;
+       he said, addressing himself to the children. He smiled happily. &ldquo;You-all
+      don't need to look so solemn, a body ain't going to snap at you! This
+      house are the old Blount cabin, but the Blounts done moved away from it
+      years and years ago. They're down Fayetteville way now. There was a passel
+      of 'em and they was about as common a lot of white folks as you'd find
+      anywhere; I know, because I come to a dance here once and Dave Blount
+      called me a liar right in this very room.&rdquo; He paused, that this impressive
+      fact might disseminate itself. Hannibal slid forward in his seat, his
+      earnest little face bent on Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did he call you a liar, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I scarcely know, Nevvy, but that's what he done, and he stuck some
+      words in front of it that ain't fitten I should repeat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Malroy's cheeks had become very red, and Mrs. Ferris refused to meet
+      her eye, while the children were in a flutter of pleased expectancy. They
+      felt the wholly contemporary interest of Yancy's story; he was dealing
+      with forms of speech which prevailed and were usually provocative of
+      consequences more or less serious. He gave them a wide, sunny smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When Dave Blount called me that, I struck out fo' home.&rdquo; At this
+      surprising turn in the narrative the children looked their disgust, and
+      Mrs. Ferris shot Betty a triumphant glance. &ldquo;Yes, ma'am, I struck out
+      across the fields fo' home, I didn't wish to hear no mo' of that loose
+      kind of talk. When I got home I found my old daddy setting up afo' the
+      fire, and he says, 'You come away early, son.' I told him what Dave Blount
+      had called me and he says, 'You acted like a gentleman, Bob, with all them
+      womenfolks about.&rdquo;'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had a very good and sensible father, Mr. Yancy. How much better than
+      if&mdash;&rdquo; began Mrs. Ferris, who feared that the moral might elude him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am, but along about day he come into the loft where I was
+      sleeping and says to me, 'Sun-up, Bob&mdash;time fo' you to haul on yo'
+      pants and go back yonder and fetch that Dave Blount a smack in the jaw.'&rdquo;
+       Mrs. Ferris moved uneasily in her chair: &ldquo;I dressed and come here, but
+      when I asked fo' Dave he wouldn't step outside, so I just lost patience
+      with his foolishness and took a crack at him standing where I'm standing
+      now, but he ducked and you can still see, ma'am&rdquo;&mdash;turning to the
+      embarrassed Mrs. Ferris&mdash;&ldquo;where my knuckles made a dint in the
+      door-jamb. I got him the next lick, though!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Yancy's moral tale had reached its conclusion; it was not for him to
+      boast unduly of his prowess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle Bob, you lift me up and show me them dints!&rdquo; and Hannibal slipped
+      from his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no!&rdquo; said Betty Malroy laughing. She captured the boy and drew him
+      down beside her on a corner of her chair. &ldquo;I am sure you don't want to see
+      the dents&mdash;Mr. Yancy's story, children, is to teach us how important
+      it is to guard our words&mdash;and not give way to hasty speech&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Betty!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Ferris indignantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judith, the moral is as obvious as it is necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Ferris gave her a reproachful look and turned to the children.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will all be here next Sunday, won't you?&mdash;and at the same hour?&rdquo;
+       she said, rising.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a sudden clatter of hoofs beyond the door. A man, well dressed
+      and well mounted had ridden into the yard. As Mrs. Ferris came from the
+      cabin he flung himself out of the saddle and, hat in hand, approached her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am hunting a place called the Barony; can you tell me if I am on the
+      right road?&rdquo; he asked. He was a man in the early thirties, graceful and
+      powerful of build, with a handsome face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is my husband you wish to see? I am Mrs. Ferris.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then General Quintard is dead?&rdquo; His tone was one of surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His death occurred over a year ago, and my husband now owns the Barony;
+      were you a friend of the general's?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Madam; he was my father's friend, but I had hoped to meet him.&rdquo; His
+      manner was adroit and plausible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Ferris hesitated. The stranger's dress and bearing was that of a
+      gentleman, and he could boast of his father's friendship with General
+      Quintard. Any doubts she may have had she put aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you ride on with us to the Barony and meet my husband, Mr.&mdash;?&rdquo;
+       she paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Murrell&mdash;Captain Murrell. Thank you; I should like to see the old
+      place. I should highly value the privilege,&rdquo; then his eyes rested on Miss
+      Malroy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Betty, let me present Captain Murrell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain bowed, giving her a glance of bold admiration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By this time the children had straggled off into the pine woods as
+      silently as they had assembled; only Yancy and Hannibal remained. Mrs.
+      Ferris turned to the former.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will close the cabin door, Mr. Yancy, everything will be ready for
+      next Sunday,&rdquo; she said, and moved toward the horses, followed by Murrell.
+      Betty Malroy lingered for a moment at Hannibal's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by, little boy; you must ask your Uncle Bob to bring you up to the
+      big house to see me,&rdquo; and stooping she kissed him. &ldquo;Good-by, Mr. Yancy, I
+      liked your story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal and Yancy watched them mount and ride away, then the boy said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle Bob, now them ladies have gone, won't you please show me them dints
+      you made in the doorjamb?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. TROUBLE AT SCRATCH HILL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Captain Murrell had established himself at Balaam's Cross Roads. He was
+      supposed to be interested in the purchase of a plantation, and in company
+      with Crenshaw visited the numerous tracts of land which the merchant
+      owned; but though he professed delight with the country, he was plainly in
+      no haste to become committed to any one of the several propositions
+      Crenshaw was eager to submit. Later, and still in the guise of a
+      prospective purchaser, he met Bladen, who also dealt extensively in land,
+      and apparently if anything could have pleased him more than the region
+      about the Cross Roads it was the country adjacent to Fayetteville.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the first he had assiduously cultivated his acquaintance with the new
+      owners of the Barony. He was now on the best of terms with Nat Ferris, and
+      it was at the Barony that he lounged away his evenings, gossiping and
+      smoking with the planter on the wide veranda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Barony would have suited me,&rdquo; he told Bladen one day. They had just
+      returned from an excursion into the country and were seated in the
+      lawyer's office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say your father was a friend of the old general's?&rdquo; said Bladen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Years ago, in the north&mdash;yes,&rdquo; answered Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Odd, isn't it, the way he chose to spend the last years of his life, shut
+      off like that and seeing no one?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell regarded the lawyer in silence for a moment out of his deeply sunk
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too bad about the boy,&rdquo; he said at length slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you mean, Captain?&rdquo; asked Bladen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean it's a pity he has no one except Yancy to look after him,&rdquo; said
+      Murrell, but Bladen showed no interest and Murrell went on. &ldquo;Don't you
+      reckon he must have touched General Quintard's life mighty close at some
+      point?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if so, it eluded me,&rdquo; said Bladen. &ldquo;I went through General
+      Quintard's papers and they contained no clue to the boy's identity that I
+      could discover. Fact is, the general didn't leave much beyond an old
+      account-book or two; I imagine that before his death he destroyed the bulk
+      of his private papers; it looked as if he'd wished to break with the past.
+      His mind must have been affected.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has Yancy any legal claim on the boy?&rdquo; inquired Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, certainly not; the boy was merely left with Yancy because Crenshaw
+      didn't know what else to do with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get possession of him, and if I don't buy land here I'll take him West
+      with me,&rdquo; said Murrell quietly. Bladen gave him a swift, shrewd glance,
+      but Murrell, smiling and easy, met it frankly. &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it's a
+      pity he should grow up wild in the pine woods&mdash;get him away from
+      Yancy&mdash;I am' willing to spend five hundred dollars on this if
+      necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As a matter of sentiment?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As a matter of sentiment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Bladen considered. He was not averse to making five hundred dollars, but
+      he was decidedly averse to letting slip any chance to secure a larger sum.
+      It flashed in upon him that Murrell had uncovered the real purpose of his
+      visit to North Carolina; his interest in land had been merely a
+      subterfuge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll have to think your proposition over,&rdquo; said Bladen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The immediate result of this conversation was that within twenty-four
+      hours a man driving two horses hitched to a light buggy arrived at Scratch
+      Hill in quest of Bob Yancy, whom he found at dinner and to whom he
+      delivered a letter. Mr. Yancy was profoundly impressed by the attention,
+      for holding the letter at arm's length, he said,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, I've lived nigh on to forty years, but I never got a piece of
+      writing befo'&mdash;never, sir. People, if they was close by, spoke to me,
+      if at a distance they hollered, but none of 'em ever wrote.&rdquo; After gazing
+      at the written characters with satisfaction Mr. Yancy made a taper of the
+      letter and lit his pipe, which he puffed meditatively. &ldquo;Sonny, when you
+      grow up you must learn so you can send writings to yo' Uncle Bob fo' him
+      to light his pipe with.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was in the paper, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; asked Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Writin',&rdquo; said Mr. Yancy, and smoked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did the writin' say, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; insisted the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was private,&rdquo; said Mr. Yancy, &ldquo;very private.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's your answer?&rdquo; demanded the stranger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's private, too,&rdquo; said Mr. Yancy. &ldquo;You tell him I'll be monstrous
+      glad to talk it over with him any time he fancies to come out here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He said something about some one I was to carry back with me,&rdquo; objected
+      the man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who said that?&rdquo; asked Mr. Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bladen did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How's a body to know who yore talking about unless you name him?&rdquo; said
+      Yancy severely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what am I to tell him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a free country and I got no call to dictate. You-all can tell him
+      whatever you like.&rdquo; Further than this Mr. Yancy would not commit himself,
+      and the man went as he came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day Yancy had occasion to visit Balaam's Cross Roads. Ordinarily
+      Hannibal would have gone with him, but he was engaged in digging out a
+      groundhog's hole with Oglethorpe Bellamy, grandson of Uncle Sammy Bellamy,
+      the patriarch of Scratch Hill. Mr. Yancy forbore to interrupt this
+      enterprise which he considered of some educational value, since the
+      ground-hog's hole was an old one and he was reasonably certain that a
+      family of skunks had taken possession of it. When Yancy reached the Cross
+      Roads, Crenshaw gave him a disquieting opinion as to the probable contents
+      of his letter, for he himself had heard from Bladen that he had decided to
+      assume the care of the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you reckon it was that&mdash;&rdquo; said Yancy, with a deep breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a blame outrage, Bob, fo' him to act like this!&rdquo; said the merchant
+      with heat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When do you reckon he's going to send fo' him?&rdquo; asked Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whenever the notion strikes him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about my having notions too?&rdquo; inquired Yancy, flecked into passion,
+      and bringing his fist down on the counter with a crash.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You surely ain't going to oppose him, Bob?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he say when he's going to send fo' my nevvy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says it will be soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You take care of my mule, Mr. John,&rdquo; said Yancy, and turned his back on
+      his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon Bladen will have the law on his side, Bob!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The law be damned&mdash;I got what's fair on mine, I don't wish fo'
+      better than that,&rdquo; exclaimed Yancy, over his shoulder. He strode from the
+      store and started down the sandy road at a brisk run. Miserable
+      forebodings of an impending tragedy leaped up within him, and the miles
+      were many that lay between him and the Hill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'll just naturally bust the face off the fellow Bladen sends!&rdquo; thought
+      Crenshaw, staring after his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That run of Bob Yancy's was destined to become a classic in the annals of
+      the neighborhood. Ordinarily a man walking briskly might cover the
+      distance between the Cross Roads and the Hill in two hours. He
+      accomplished it in less than an hour, and before he reached the branch
+      that flowed a full quarter of a mile from his cabin he was shouting
+      Hannibal's name as he ran. Then as he breasted the slope he came within
+      sight of a little group in his own dooryard. Saving only Uncle Sammy
+      Bellamy, the group resolved itself into the women and children of the
+      Hill, but there was one small figure he missed, and the color faded from
+      his cheeks while his heart stood still. The patriarch hurried toward him,
+      leaning on his cane, while his grandson clung to the skirts of his coat,
+      weeping bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They've took your nevvy, Bob!&rdquo; he cried, in a high, thin voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's took him?&rdquo; asked Yancy hoarsely. He paused and glanced from one to
+      another of the little group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hit were Dave Blount. Get your gun, Bob, and go after him&mdash;kill the
+      miserable sneaking cuss!&rdquo; cried Uncle Sammy, who believed in settling all
+      difficulties by bloodshed as befitted a veteran of the first war with
+      England, he having risen to the respectable rank of sergeant in a company
+      of Morgan's riflemen; while at sixty-odd in '12, when there was recruiting
+      at the Cross Roads, his son had only been able to prevent his tendering
+      his services to his country by hiding his trousers. &ldquo;Fetch his rifle, some
+      of you fool women!&rdquo; cried Uncle Sammy. &ldquo;By the Fayetteville Road, Bob, not
+      ten minutes ago&mdash;you can cut him off at Ox Road forks!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy breathed a sigh of relief. The situation was not entirely desperate,
+      for, as Uncle Sammy said, he could reach the Ox Road forks before Blount
+      possibly could, by going as the crow flies through the pine woods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hit wouldn't have happened if there'd been a man on the Hill, but there
+      was nothing but a passel of women about the place. I heard the boys crying
+      when Dave Blount lifted your nevvy into the buggy,&rdquo; said Uncle Sammy; &ldquo;all
+      I could do was to cuss him across two fields. I hope you blow his hide
+      full of holes!&rdquo; for a rifle had been placed in Yancy's hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you-all kindly,&rdquo; said Yancy, and turning away he struck off through
+      the pine woods. A brisk walk of twenty minutes brought him to the Ox Road
+      forks, as it was called, where he could plainly distinguish the wheel and
+      hoof marks left by the buggy and team as it went to Scratch Hill, but
+      there was only the single track.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This important point being settled, sense of sweet peace stole in upon
+      Yancy's spirit. He stood his rifle against a tree, lit his pipe with flint
+      and steel, and rested comfortably by the wayside. He had not long to wait,
+      for presently the buggy hove in sight; whereupon he coolly knocked the
+      ashes from his pipe, pocketed it, and prepared for action. As the buggy
+      came nearer he recognized his ancient enemy in the person of the man who
+      sat at Hannibal's side, and stepping nimbly into the road seized the
+      horses by their bits. At sight of him Hannibal shrieked his name in an
+      ecstasy of delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle Bob&mdash;Uncle Bob&mdash;&rdquo; he, cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it's Uncle Bob. You can light down, Nevvy. I reckon you've rid far
+      enough,&rdquo; said Yancy pleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leggo them horses!&rdquo; said Mr. Blount, recovering somewhat from the effect
+      of Yancy's sudden appearance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Light down, Nevvy,&rdquo; said Yancy, still pleasantly. Blount turned to the
+      boy as if to interfere. &ldquo;Don't you put the weight of yo' finger on the
+      boy, Blount!&rdquo; warned Yancy. &ldquo;Light down, Hannibal!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal instantly availed himself of the invitation. At the same moment
+      Blount struck at Yancy with his whip and his horses reared wildly,
+      thinking the blow meant for them. Seeing that the boy had reached the
+      ground in safety, Yancy relaxed his hold on the team, which instantly
+      plunged forward. Then as the buggy swept past him he made a dexterous grab
+      at Blount and dragged him out over the wheels into the road, where, for
+      the second time in his life, he proceeded to fetch Mr. Blount a smack in
+      the jaw. This he followed up with other smacks variously distributed about
+      his countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll sweat for this, Bob Yancy!&rdquo; cried Blount, as he vainly sought to
+      fend off the blows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sweating now&mdash;scandalous,&rdquo; said Mr. Yancy, taking his unhurried
+      satisfaction of the other. Then with a final skilful kick he sent Mr.
+      Blount sprawling. &ldquo;Don't let me catch you around these diggings again,
+      Dave Blount, or I swear to God I'll be the death of you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal rode home through the pine woods in triumph on his Uncle Bob's
+      mighty shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you get yo' ground-hog, Nevvy?&rdquo; inquired Mr. Yancy presently when
+      they had temporarily exhausted the excitement of Hannibal's capture and
+      recovery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It weren't a ground-hog, Uncle Bob&mdash;it were a skunk!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think of that!&rdquo; murmured Mr. Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. LAW AT BALAAM'S CROSS-ROADS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Yancy was only at the beginning of his trouble. Three days later
+      there appeared on the borders of Scratch Hill a lank gentleman armed with
+      a rifle, while the butts of two pistols protruded from the depths of his
+      capacious coat pockets. He made his presence known by whooping from the
+      edge of the branch, and his whoops shaped themselves into the name of
+      Yancy. It was Charley Balaam, old Squire Balaam's nephew. The squire lived
+      at the crossroads to which his family had given its name, and dispensed
+      the little law that found its way into that part of the county. The whoops
+      finally brought Yancy to his cabin door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can I see you friendly, Bob Yancy?&rdquo; Balaam demanded with the lungs of a
+      stentor, sheltering himself behind the thick bole of a sweetgum, for he
+      observed that Yancy held his rifle in the crook of his arm and had no wish
+      to offer his person as a target to the deadly aim of the Scratch Hiller
+      who was famous for his skill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you can, Charley Balaam, if you are friendly,&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a family man, Bob, and I ask you candid, do you feel peevish?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in particular,&rdquo; and Yancy put aside his rifle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a-going to trust you, Bob,&rdquo; said Balaam. And forsaking the shelter of
+      the sweetgum he shuffled up the slope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you, Charley?&rdquo; asked Yancy, as they shook hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only just tolerable, Bob. You've been warranted&mdash;Dave Blount swore
+      hit on to you.&rdquo; He displayed a sheet of paper covered with much writing
+      and decorated with a large seal. Yancy viewed this formidable document
+      with respect, but did not offer to take it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read it,&rdquo; he said mildly. Balaam scratched his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know that hit's my duty to do that, Bob. Hit's my duty to serve
+      it on to you. But I can tell you what's into hit, leavin' out the law&mdash;which
+      don't matter nohow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this juncture Uncle Sammy's bent form emerged from the path that led
+      off through the woods in the direction of the Bellamy cabin. With the
+      patriarch was a stranger. Now the presence of a stranger on Scratch Hill
+      was an occurrence of such extraordinary rarity that the warrant instantly
+      became a matter of secondary importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Howdy, Charley. Here, Bob Yancy, you shake hands with Bruce Carrington,&rdquo;
+       commanded Uncle Sammy. At the name both Yancy and Balaam manifested a
+      quickened interest. They saw a man in the early twenties, clean-limbed and
+      broad-shouldered, with a handsome face and shapely head. &ldquo;Yes, sir, hit's
+      a grandson of Tom Carrington that used to own the grist-mill down at the
+      Forks. Yo're some sort of wild-hog kin to him, Bob&mdash;yo' mother was a
+      cousin to old Tom. Her family was powerful upset at her marrying a Yancy.
+      They say Tom cussed himself into a 'pleptic fit when the news was fetched
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where you located at, Mr. Carrington?&rdquo; asked Yancy. But Carrington was
+      not given a chance to reply. Uncle Sammy saved him the trouble.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Back in Kentucky. He tells me he's been follerin' the water. What's the
+      name of that place where Andy Jackson fit the British?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;New Orleans,&rdquo; prompted Carrington good naturedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's hit&mdash;he takes rafts down the river to New Orleans, then he
+      comes back on ships to Baltimore, or else he hoofs it no'th overland.&rdquo;
+       Uncle Sammy had acquired a general knowledge of the stranger's habits and
+      pursuits in an incredibly brief space of time. &ldquo;He wants to visit the
+      Forks,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm shortly goin' that way myself, Mr. Carrington, and I'll be pleased of
+      your company&mdash;but first I got to get through with Bob Yancy,&rdquo; said
+      Balaam, and again he produced the warrant. &ldquo;If agreeable to you, Bob, I'll
+      ask Uncle Sammy, as a third party friendly to both, to read this here
+      warrant,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's been a-warrantin' Bob Yancy?&rdquo; cried Uncle Sammy, with shrill
+      interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dave Blount has.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knowed hit&mdash;I knowed he'd try to get even!&rdquo; And Uncle Sammy struck
+      his walking-stick sharply on the packed earth of Yancy's dooryard. &ldquo;What's
+      the charge agin you, Bob?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read hit,&rdquo; said Balaam. &ldquo;Why, sho'&mdash;can't you read plain writin',
+      Uncle Sammy?&rdquo; for the patriarch was showing signs of embarrassment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you gentlemen will let me&mdash;&rdquo; said Carrington pleasantly.
+      Instantly there came a relieved chorus from the three in one breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, sure!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would my spectacles help you any, Mr. Carrington?&rdquo; asked Uncle Sammy
+      officiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I guess not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They air powerful seein' glasses, and I'm aweer some folks read a heap
+      easier with spectacles than without 'em.&rdquo; After a moment's scrutiny of the
+      paper that Balaam had thrust in his hand, Carrington began:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the Sheriff of the County of Cumberland: Greetings.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He means me,&rdquo; explained Balaam. &ldquo;He always makes 'em out to the sheriff,
+      but they are returned to me and I serve 'em.&rdquo; Carrington resumed his
+      reading,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whereas, It is alleged that a murderous assault has been committed on one
+      David Blount, of Fayetteville, by Robert Yancy, of Scratch Hill, said
+      Blount sustaining numerous bruises and contusions, to his great injury of
+      body and mind; and, whereas, it is further alleged that said murderous
+      assault was wholly unprovoked and without cause, you will forthwith take
+      into custody the person of said Yancy, of Scratch Hill, charged with
+      having inflicted the bruises and contusions herein set forth in the
+      complaint of said Blount, and instantly bring him into our presence to
+      answer to these various and several crimes and misdemeanors. You are
+      empowered to seize said Yancy wherever he may be at; whether on the
+      hillside or in the valley, eating or sleeping, or at rest.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+           &ldquo;De Lancy Balaam, Magistrate.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fourth District, County of Cumberland, State of North Carolina. Done this
+      twenty-fourth day of May, 1835.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;P.S. Dear Bob: Dave Blount says he ain't able to chew his meat. I thought
+      you'd be glad to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Smilingly Carrington folded the warrant and handed it to Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what are you goin' to do about hit, Bob?&rdquo; inquired Balaam.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe I'd ought to go. I'd like to oblige the squire,&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When does this here co't set?&rdquo; demanded Uncle Sammy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hit don't do much else since he's took with the lumbago,&rdquo; answered Balaam
+      somewhat obscurely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are the squire, Charley?&rdquo; asked Yancy with grave concern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only just tolerable, Bob.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he tell you to do?&rdquo; and Yancy knit his brows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seems like he wanted me to find out what you'd do. He recommended I
+      shouldn't use no violence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn't recommend you did, either,&rdquo; assented Yancy, but without heat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd get shut of this here law business, Bob,&rdquo; advised Uncle Sammy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose I come to the Cross Roads this evening?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's agreeable,&rdquo; said the deputy, who presently departed in company
+      with Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some hours later the male population of Scratch Hill, with a gravity
+      befitting the occasion, prepared itself to descend on the Cross Roads and
+      give its support to Mr. Yancy in his hour of need. To this end those
+      respectable householders armed themselves, with the idea that it might
+      perhaps be necessary to correct some miscarriage of justice. They were shy
+      enough and timid enough, these remote dwellers in the pine woods, but,
+      like all wild things, when they felt they were cornered they were prone to
+      fight; and in this instance it was clearly iniquitous that Bob Yancy's
+      right to smack Dave Blount should be questioned. That denied what was left
+      of human liberty. But beyond this was a matter of even greater importance:
+      they felt that Yancy's possession of the boy was somehow involved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy had declared himself simply but specifically on this point. Law or
+      no law, he would kill whoever attempted to take the boy from him, and
+      Scratch Hill believing to a man that in so doing he would be well within
+      his rights, was prepared to join in the fray. Even Uncle Sammy, who had
+      not been off the Hill in years, announced that no consideration of fatigue
+      would keep him away from the scene of action and possible danger, and
+      Yancy loaned him his mule and cart for the occasion. When the patriarch
+      was helped to his seat in the ancient vehicle he called loudly for his
+      rifle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, pap, what do you want with a weapon?&rdquo; asked his son indulgently. &ldquo;If
+      there air shootin' I may take a hand in it. Now you-all give me a fair
+      hour's start with this mule critter of Bob's, and if nothin' busts I'll be
+      at the squire's as soon as the best of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Uncle Sammy was given the time allowance he asked and then Scratch Hill
+      wended its way down the path to the branch and the highroad. Yancy led the
+      straggling procession, with the boy trotting by his side, his little
+      sunburned fist clasped in the man's great hand. He, too, was armed. He
+      carried the old spo'tin' rifle he had brought from the Barony, and
+      suspended from his shoulder by a leather thong was the big horn flask with
+      its hickory stopper his Uncle Bob had fashioned for him, while a deerskin
+      pouch held his bullets and an extra flint or two. He understood that
+      beyond those smacks he had seen his Uncle Bob fetch Mr. Blount, he himself
+      was the real cause of this excitement, that somebody, it was not plain to
+      his mind just who, was seeking to get him away from Scratch Hill, and that
+      a mysterious power called the Law would sooner or later be invoked to this
+      dread end. But he knew this much clearly, nothing would induce him to
+      leave his Uncle Bob! And his thin little fingers nestled warmly against
+      the man's hardened palm. Yancy looked down and gave him a sunny,
+      reassuring smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It'll be all right, Nevvy,&rdquo; he said gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wouldn't let 'em take me, would you, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; asked the child in a
+      fearful whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Such an idea ain't entered my head. And this here warranting is just some
+      of Dave Blount's cussedness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle Bob, what'll they do to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon the squire'll feel obliged to do one of two things. He'll
+      either fine me or else he won't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What'll you do if he fines you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, pay the fine, Nevvy&mdash;and then lick Dave Blount again for
+      stirring up trouble. That's the way we most in general do. I mean to say
+      give him a good licking, and that'll make him stop his foolishness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wasn't that a good licking you gave him on the Ox Road, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; asked
+      Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was pretty fair fo' a starter, but I'm capable of doing a better job,&rdquo;
+       responded Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They overtook Uncle Sammy as he turned in at the squire's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought I'd come and see what kind of law a body gets at this here co't
+      of yours,&rdquo; the patriarch explained to Mr. Balaam, who, forgetting his
+      lumbago, had hurried forth to greet him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why did you fetch your gun, Uncle Sammy?&rdquo; asked the magistrate,
+      laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hit were to be on the safe side, Squire. Where air them Blounts?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Them Blounts don't need to bother you none. There air only Dave, and he
+      can't more than half see out of one eye to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The squire's court held its infrequent sittings in the best room of the
+      Balaam homestead, a double cabin of hewn logs. Here Scratch Hill was
+      gratified with a view of Mr. Blount's battered visage, and it was conceded
+      that his condition reflected creditably on Yancy's physical prowess and
+      was of a character fully to sustain that gentleman's reputation; for while
+      he was notoriously slow to begin a fight, he was reputed to be even more
+      reluctant to leave off once he had become involved in one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's all this here fuss between you and Bob Yancy?&rdquo; demanded the squire
+      when he had administered the oath to Blount. Mr. Blount's statement was
+      brief and very much to the point. He had been hired by Mr. Bladen, of
+      Fayetteville, to go to Scratch Hill and get the boy who had been
+      temporarily placed in Yancy's custody at the time of General Quintard's
+      death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop just there!&rdquo; cried the magistrate, leveling a pudgy finger at
+      Blount. &ldquo;This here co't is already cognizant of certain facts bearing on
+      that p'int. The boy was left with Bob Yancy mainly because nobody else
+      would take him. Them's the facts. Now go on!&rdquo; he finished sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I only know what Bladen told me,&rdquo; said Blount sullenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon Mr. Bladen ought to feel obliged to tell the truth,&rdquo; said
+      the squire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He done give me the order from the judge of the co't&mdash;I was to show
+      it to Bob Yancy&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got that order?&rdquo; demanded the squire sharply. With a smile, damaged, but
+      clearly a smile, Blount produced the order. &ldquo;Hmm&mdash;app'inted guardeen
+      of the boy&mdash;&rdquo; the squire was presently heard to murmur. The crowded
+      room was very still now, and more than one pair of eyes were turned
+      pityingly in Yancy's direction. When the long arm of the law reached out
+      from Fayetteville, where there was a real judge and a real sheriff, it
+      clothed itself with very special terrors. The boy looked up into Yancy's
+      face. That tense silence had struck a chill through his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all right,&rdquo; whispered Yancy reassuringly, smiling down upon him. And
+      Hannibal, comforted, smiled back, and nestled his head against his Uncle
+      Bob's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Mr. Blount, what did you do with this here order?&rdquo; asked the
+      squire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went with it to Scratch Hill,&rdquo; said Blount.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And showed it to Bob Yancy?&rdquo; asked the squire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he wa'n't there. But the boy was, and I took him in my buggy and
+      drove off. I'd got as far as the Ox Road forks when I met Yancy&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What happened then?&mdash;but a body don't need to ask! Looks like the
+      law was all you had on your side!&rdquo; and the squire glanced waggishly about
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I showed Yancy the order&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You lie, Dave Blount; you didn't!&rdquo; said Yancy. &ldquo;But I can't say as it
+      would have made no difference, Squire. He'd have taken his licking just
+      the same and I'd have had my nevvy out of that buggy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't he say nothing about this here order from the colt, Bob?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There wa'n't much conversation, Squire. I invited my nevvy to light down,
+      and then I snaked Dave Blount out over the wheel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who struck the first blow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He did. He struck at me with his buggy whip.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you got to say to this, Mr. Blount?&rdquo; asked the squire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say I showed him the order like I said,&rdquo; answered Blount doggedly.
+      Squire Balaam removed his spectacles and leaned back in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's the opinion of this here co't that the whole question of assault
+      rests on whether Bob Yancy saw the order. Bob Yancy swears he didn't see
+      it, while Dave Blount swears he showed it to him. If Bob Yancy didn't know
+      of the existence of the order he was clearly actin' on the idea that
+      Blount was stealin' his nevvy, and he done what any one would have done
+      under the circumstances. If, on the other hand, he knowed of this order
+      from the co't, he was not only guilty of assault, but he was guilty of
+      resistin' an officer of the co't.&rdquo; The squire paused impressively. His
+      audience drew a long breath. The impression prevailed that the case was
+      going against Yancy, and more than one face was turned scowlingly on the
+      fat little justice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can a body drap a word here?&rdquo; It was Uncle Sammy's thin voice that cut
+      into the silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, Uncle Sammy. This here co't will always admire to listen to
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'd like to say that I consider that Fayetteville co't mighty
+      officious with its orders. This part of the county won't take nothin' off
+      Fayetteville! We don't interfere with Fayetteville, and blamed if we'll
+      let Fayetteville interfere with us!&rdquo; There was a murmur of approval.
+      Scratch Hill remembered the rifles in its hands and took comfort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Fayetteville co't air a higher co't than this, Uncle Sammy,&rdquo;
+       explained the squire indulgently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm aweer of that,&rdquo; snapped the patriarch. &ldquo;I've seen hit's steeple.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Air you finished, Uncle Sammy?&rdquo; asked the squire deferentially.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I 'low I am. But I 'low that if this here case is goin' agin Bob Yancy
+      I'd recommend him to go home and not listen to no mo' foolishness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Yancy will oblige this co't by setting still while I finish this
+      case,&rdquo; said the squire with dignity. &ldquo;As I've already p'inted out, the
+      question of veracity presents itself strongly to the mind of this here
+      colt. Mr. Yancy has sworn to one thing, Mr. Blount to another. Now the
+      Yancys air an old family in these parts; Mr. Blount's folks air strangers,
+      but we don't know nothing agin them&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we don't know nothing in their favor,&rdquo; Uncle Sammy interjected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dave's grandfather came here from Virginia about fifty years back and
+      settled near Scratch Hill&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We never knowed why he left Virginia or why he came here,&rdquo; said Uncle
+      Sammy, and knowing what local feeling was, was sure he had shot a telling
+      bolt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, about twenty-five years ago Dave's father pulled up and went to
+      Fayetteville. Nobody ever knowed why&mdash;and I don't remember that he
+      ever offered any explanation&mdash;&rdquo; continued the squire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't&mdash;he just left,&rdquo; said Uncle Sammy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Consequently,&rdquo; pursued the squire, somewhat vindictively, &ldquo;we ain't had
+      any time in which to form an opinion of the Blounts; but for myself, I'm
+      suspicious of folks that keep movin' about and who don't seem able to get
+      located permanent nowheres, who air here to-day and away tomorrow. But you
+      can't say that of the Yancys. They air an old family in the country, and
+      naturally this co't feels obliged to accept a Yancy's word before the word
+      of a stranger. And in view of the fact that the defendant did not seek
+      litigation, but was perfectly satisfied to let matters rest where they
+      was, it is right and just that all costs should fall on the plaintiff.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. THE ENCOUNTER
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Betty Malroy had ridden into the squire's yard during the progress of the
+      trial and when Yancy and Hannibal came from the house she beckoned the
+      Scratch Hiller to her. She was aware that Mr. Yancy, moving along the line
+      of least industrial resistance, might be counted of little worth in any
+      broad scheme of life. Nat Ferris had strongly insisted on this point, as
+      had Judith, who shared her husband's convictions; consequently, the rumors
+      of his present difficulty had merely excited them to adverse criticism.
+      They had been sure the best thing that could happen the boy would be his
+      removal from Yancy's guardianship, but this was not at all her conclusion.
+      She considered Mr. Bladen heartless and his course without justification,
+      and she regarded Yancy's affection for the boy as in itself constituting a
+      benefit that quite outweighed his unprogressive example.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not going to lose your nephew, are you, Mr. Yancy?&rdquo; she asked
+      eagerly, when Yancy stood at her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma'am.&rdquo; But his sense of elation was plainly tempered by the
+      knowledge that for him the future held more than one knotty problem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very glad! I know Hannibal will be much happier with you than with
+      any one else,&rdquo; and she smiled brightly at the boy, whose small sunburned
+      face was upturned to hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think that-a-ways myself, Miss Betty, but this trial was only for my
+      smacking Dave Blount, who was trying to steal my nevvy,&rdquo; explained Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope you smacked him well and hard!&rdquo; said the girl, whose mood was
+      warlike.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't got no cause to complain, thank you,&rdquo; returned Mr. Yancy
+      pleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I rode out to the Hill to say good-by to Hannibal and to you, but they
+      said you were here and that the trial was today.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Murrell, with Crenshaw and the squire, came from the house, and
+      Murrell's swarthy face lit up at sight of the girl. Yancy, sensible of the
+      gulf that yawned between himself and what was known as &ldquo;the quality,&rdquo;
+       would have yielded his place, but Betty detained him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going away, ma'am?&rdquo; he asked with concern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;to my home in west Tennessee,&rdquo; and a cloud crossed her smooth
+      brow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That surely is a right big distance for you to travel, ma'am,&rdquo; said
+      Yancy, his mind opening to this fresh impression. &ldquo;I reckon it's rising a
+      hundred miles or mo',&rdquo; he concluded, at a venture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's almost a thousand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think of that! And you are that ca'm!&rdquo; cried Yancy admiringly, as a
+      picture of simply stupendous effort offered itself to his mind's eye. He
+      added: &ldquo;I am mighty sorry you are going. We-all here shall miss you&mdash;specially
+      Hannibal. He just regularly pines for Sunday as it is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope he will miss me a little&mdash;I'm afraid I want him to!&rdquo; She
+      glanced down at the boy as she spoke, and into her eyes, very clear and
+      very blue and shaded by long dark lashes, stole a look of wistful
+      tenderness. She noted how his little hand was clasped in Yancy's, she
+      realized the perfect trust of his whole attitude toward this big bearded
+      man, and she was conscious of a sudden feeling of profound respect for the
+      Scratch Hiller.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But ain't you ever coming back, Miss Betty?&rdquo; asked Hannibal rather
+      fearfully, smitten with the awesome sense of impermanence which dogs our
+      footsteps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I hope so, dear&mdash;I wish to think so. But you see my home is not
+      here.&rdquo; She turned to Yancy, &ldquo;So it is settled that he is to remain with
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not exactly, Miss Betty. You see, there's an order from the Fayetteville
+      co't fo' me to give him up to this man Bladen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Uncle Bob says&mdash;&rdquo; began Hannibal, who considered his Uncle Bob's
+      remarks on this point worth quoting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind what yo' Uncle Bob said,&rdquo; interrupted Yancy hastily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Yancy, you are not going to surrender him&mdash;no matter what
+      the court says!&rdquo; cried Betty. The expression on Yancy's face was so grim
+      and determined on the instant with the latent fire that was in him
+      flashing from his eyes that she added quickly, &ldquo;You know the law is for
+      you as well as for Mr. Bladen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I won't bother the law none,&rdquo; responded Yancy briefly. &ldquo;Me and
+      my nevvy will go back to Scratch Hill and there won't be no trouble so
+      long as they leave us be. But them Fayetteville folks want to keep away&mdash;&rdquo;
+       The fierce light slowly died out of his eyes. &ldquo;It'll be all right, ma'am,
+      and it's mighty good and kind of you fo' to feel the way you do. I'm
+      obliged to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Betty was by no means sure of the outcome Yancy seemed to predict with
+      such confidence. Unless Bladen abandoned his purpose, which he was not
+      likely to do, a tragedy was clearly pending for Scratch Hill. She saw the
+      boy left friendless, she saw Yancy the victim of his own primitive
+      conception of justice. Therefore she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder you don't leave the Hill, Mr. Yancy. You could so easily go
+      where Mr. Bladen would never find you. Haven't you thought of this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That are a p'int,&rdquo; agreed Yancy slowly. &ldquo;Might I ask what parts you'd
+      specially recommend?&rdquo; lifting his grave eyes to hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would really be the sensible thing to do!&rdquo; said Betty. &ldquo;I am sure you
+      would like West Tennessee&mdash;they say you are a great hunter.&rdquo; Yancy
+      smiled almost guiltily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like a little spo't now and then yes, ma'am, I do hunt some,&rdquo; he
+      admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Betty, Uncle Bob's the best shot we got! You had ought to see him
+      shoot!&rdquo; said Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Yancy, if you should cross the mountains, remember I live near
+      Memphis. Belle Plain is the name of the plantation&mdash;it's not hard to
+      find; just don't forget&mdash;Belle Plain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won't forget, and mebby you will see us there one of these days. Sho',
+      I've seen mighty little of the world&mdash;about as far as a dog can trot
+      it a couple of hours!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just think what it will mean to Hannibal if you become involved further
+      with Mr. Bladen.&rdquo; Betty spoke earnestly, bending toward him, and Yancy
+      understood the meaning that lay back of her words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've thought of that, too,&rdquo; the Scratch Hiller answered seriously. Betty
+      glanced toward the squire and Mr. Crenshaw. They were standing near the
+      bars that gave entrance to the lane. Murrell had left them and was walking
+      briskly down the road toward Crenshaw's store where his horse was tied.
+      She bent down and gave Yancy her slim white hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by, Mr. Yancy&mdash;lift Hannibal so that I can kiss him!&rdquo; Yancy
+      swung the child aloft. &ldquo;I think you are such a nice little boy, Hannibal&mdash;you
+      mustn't forget me!&rdquo; And touching her horse lightly with the whip she rode
+      away at a gallop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She sho'ly is a lady!&rdquo; said Yancy, staring after her. &ldquo;And we mustn't
+      forget Memphis or Belle Plain, Nevvy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Crenshaw and the squire approached.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bob,&rdquo; said the merchant, &ldquo;Bladen's going to have the boy&mdash;but he
+      made a mistake in putting this business in the hands of a fool like Dave
+      Blount. I reckon he knows that now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon his next move will be to send a posse of gun-toters up from
+      Fayetteville,&rdquo; said the squire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's just what he'll do,&rdquo; agreed Crenshaw, and looked disturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They certainly air an unpeaceable lot&mdash;them Fayetteville folks! It's
+      always seemed to me they had a positive spite agin this end of the
+      county,&rdquo; said the squire, and he pocketed his spectacles and refreshed
+      himself with a chew of tobacco. &ldquo;Bladen ain't actin' right, Bob. It's a
+      year and upwards since the old general 'died. He let you go on thinking
+      the boy was to stay with you and now he takes a notion to have him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir, it ain't right nor reasonable. And what's more, he shan't have
+      him!&rdquo; said Yancy, and his tone was final.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know what kind of a mess you're getting yourself into, Bob, I
+      declare I don't!&rdquo; cried Crenshaw, who felt that he was largely responsible
+      for the whole situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Looks like your neighbors would stand by you,&rdquo; suggested the squire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't want them to stand by me. It'll only get them into trouble, and I
+      ain't going to do that,&rdquo; rejoined Yancy, and lapsed into momentary
+      silence. Then he resumed meditatively, &ldquo;There was old Baldy Ebersole who
+      shot the sheriff when they tried to arrest him for getting drunk down in
+      Fayetteville and licking the tavern-keeper&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho', there wa'n't no harm in Baldy!&rdquo; said the squire, with heat. &ldquo;When
+      that sheriff come along here looking for him, I told him p'inted that
+      Baldy said he wouldn't be arrested. A more truthful man I never knowed,
+      and if the damn fool had taken my word he'd be living yet!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you-all know what trouble killing that sheriff made fo' Baldy!&rdquo; said
+      Yancy. &ldquo;He told me often he regretted it mo' than anything he'd ever done.
+      He said it was most aggravatin' having to always lug a gun wherever he
+      went. And what with being suspicious of strangers when he wa'n't
+      suspicious by nature, he reckoned in time it would just naturally wear him
+      out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He stood it until he was risin' eighty,&rdquo; said Crenshaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His, father lived to be ninety, John, and as spry an old gentleman as a
+      body'd wish to see. I don't uphold no man for committing murder, but I do
+      consider the sheriff should have waited on Baldy to get mo' reasonable,
+      like he'd done in time if they'd just let him alone&mdash;but no, sir, he
+      reckoned the law wa'n't no respecter of persons. He was a fine-appearin'
+      man, that sheriff, and just elected to office. I remember we had to leave
+      off the tail-gate to my cart to accommodate him. Yes, sir, they pretty
+      near pestered Baldy into his grave&mdash;and seein' that pore old fellow
+      pottering around year after year always toting a gun was the patheticest
+      sight I most ever seen, and I made up my mind then if it ever seemed
+      necessary for me to kill a man, I'd leave the county or maybe the state,&rdquo;
+       concluded the squire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you reckon it would be some better to leave the state afo' you.
+      done the killing?&rdquo; suggested Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, a man might. I don't know but what he'd be justified in getting
+      shut of his troubles like that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Betty Malroy rode away from Squire Balaam's Murrell galloped after
+      her. Presently she heard the beat of his horse's hoofs as he came pounding
+      along the sandy road and glanced back over her shoulder. With an
+      exclamation of displeasure she reined in her horse. She had not wished to
+      ride to the Barony with him, yet she had no desire to treat him with
+      discourtesy, especially as the Ferrises were disposed to like him. Murrell
+      quickly gained a place at her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose Ferris is at the Barony?&rdquo; he said, drawing his horse down to a
+      walk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe he is,&rdquo; said Betty with a curt little air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ride with you?&rdquo; he gave her a swift glance. She nodded
+      indifferently and would have urged her horse into a gallop again, but he
+      made a gesture of protest. &ldquo;Don't&mdash;or I shall think you are still
+      running away from me,&rdquo; he said with a short laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were you at the trial?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;I am glad they didn't get Hannibal
+      away from Yancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Yancy will have his hands full with that later&mdash;so will Bladen,&rdquo;
+       he added significantly. He studied her out of those deeply sunken eyes of
+      his in which no shadow of youth lingered, for men such as he reached their
+      prime early, and it was a swiftly passing splendor. &ldquo;Ferris tells me you
+      are going to West Tennessee?&rdquo; he said at length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know your half-brother, Tom Ware&mdash;I know him very well.&rdquo; There was
+      another brief silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you know Tom?&rdquo; she presently observed, and frowned slightly. Tom was
+      her guardian, and her memories of him were not satisfactory. A burly,
+      unshaven man with a queer streak of meanness through his character. She
+      had not seen him since she had been sent north to Philadelphia, and their
+      intercourse had been limited to infrequent letters. His always smelled of
+      strong, stale tobacco, and the well-remembered whine in the man's voice
+      ran through his written sentences.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've spent much of your time up North?&rdquo; suggested Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Four years. I've been at school, you know. That's where I met Judith.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope you'll like West Tennessee. It's still a bit raw compared with
+      what you've been accustomed to in the North. You haven't been back in all
+      those four years?&rdquo; Betty shook her head. &ldquo;Nor seen Tom&mdash;nor any one
+      from out yonder?&rdquo; For some reason a little tinge of color had crept into
+      Betty's cheeks. &ldquo;Will you let me renew our acquaintance at Belle Plain? I
+      shall be in West Tennessee before the summer is over; probably I shall
+      leave here within a week,&rdquo; he said, bending toward her. His glance dwelt
+      on her face and the pliant lines of her figure, and his sense swam. Since
+      their first meeting the girl's beauty had haunted and allured him; with
+      his passionate sense of life he was disposed to these violent fancies, and
+      he had a masterful way with women just as he had a masterful way with men.
+      Now, however, he was aware that he was viewed with entire indifference.
+      His vanity, which was his whole inner self, was hurt, and from the black
+      depths of his nature his towering egotism flashed out lawless and
+      perverted impulses. &ldquo;I must tell you that I am not of your sort, Miss
+      Malroy&mdash;&rdquo; he continued hurriedly. &ldquo;My people were plain folk out of
+      the mountains. For what I am I have no one to thank but myself. You must
+      be aware of the prejudices of the planter class, for it is your class.
+      Perhaps I haven't been quite frank at the Barony&mdash;I felt it was
+      asking too much when you were there. That was a door I didn't want closed
+      to me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagine you will be welcome at Belle Plain. You are Tom's friend.&rdquo;
+       Murrell bit his lip, and then laughed as his mind conjured up a picture of
+      the cherished Tom. Suddenly he reached out and rested his hand on hers. He
+      lived in the shadow of chance not always kind, his pleasures were
+      intoxicating drafts snatched in the midst of dangers, and here was youth,
+      sweet and perfect, that only needed awakening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Betty&mdash;if I might think&mdash;&rdquo; he began, but his tongue stumbled.
+      His love-making was usually of a savage sort, but some quality in the girl
+      held him in check. The words he had spoken many times before forsook him.
+      Betty drew away from him, an angry color on her cheeks and an angry light
+      in her eyes. &ldquo;Forgive me, Betty!&rdquo; muttered Murrell, but his heart beat
+      against his ribs, and passion sent its surges through him. &ldquo;Don't you know
+      what I'm trying to tell you?&rdquo; he whispered. Betty gathered up her reins.
+      &ldquo;Not yet&mdash;&rdquo; he cried, and again he rested a heavy hand on hers.
+      &ldquo;Don't you know what's kept me here? It was to be near you&mdash;only that&mdash;I've
+      been waiting for this chance to speak. It was long in coming, but it's
+      here now&mdash;and it's mine!&rdquo; he exulted. His eyes burned with a luminous
+      fire, he urged his horse nearer and they came to a halt. &ldquo;Look here&mdash;I'll
+      follow you North&mdash;I swear I love you&mdash;say I may!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me go&mdash;let me go!&rdquo; cried Betty indignantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;not yet!&rdquo; he urged his horse still nearer and gathered her
+      close. &ldquo;You've got to hear me. I've loved you since the first moment I
+      rested my eyes on you&mdash;and, by God, you shall love me in return!&rdquo; He
+      felt her struggle to free herself from his grasp with a sense of savage
+      triumph. It was the brute force within him that conquered with women just
+      as it conquered with men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bruce Carrington, on his way back to Fayetteville from the Forks, came
+      about a turn in the road. Betty saw a tall, handsome fellow in the first
+      flush of manhood; Carrington, an angry girl, very beautiful and very
+      indignant, struggling in a man's grasp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At sight of the new-comer, Murrell, with an oath, released Betty, who,
+      striking her horse with the whip galloped down the road toward the Barony.
+      As she fled past Carrington she bent low in her saddle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't let him follow me!&rdquo; she gasped, and Carrington, striding forward,
+      caught Murrell's horse by the bit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not so fast, you!&rdquo; he said coolly. The two men glared at each other for a
+      brief instant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take your hand off my horse!&rdquo; exclaimed Murrell hoarsely, his mouth hot
+      and dry with a sense of defeat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't you see she'd rather be alone?&rdquo; said Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let go!&rdquo; roared Murrell, and a murderous light shot from his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know but I should pull you out of that saddle and twist your
+      neck!&rdquo; said Carrington hotly. Murrell's face underwent a swift change.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're a bold fellow to force your way into a lover's quarrel,&rdquo; he said
+      quietly. Carrington's arm dropped at his side. Perhaps, after all, it was
+      that. Murrell thrust his hand into his pocket. &ldquo;I always give something to
+      the boy who holds my horse,&rdquo; he said, and tossed a coin in Carrington's
+      direction. &ldquo;There&mdash;take that for your pains!&rdquo; he added. He pulled his
+      horse about and rode back toward the cross-roads at an easy canter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington, with an angry flush on his sunburnt cheeks, stood staring down
+      at the coin that glinted in the dusty road, but he was seeing the face of
+      the girl, indignant, beautiful&mdash;then he glanced after Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I ought to have twisted his neck,&rdquo; he said with a deep breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. BETTY SETS OUT FOR TENNESSEE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Bruce Carrington came of a westward-looking race. From the low coast where
+      they had first settled, those of his name had followed the rivers to their
+      headwaters. The headwaters had sent them forth toward the foot-hills,
+      where they made their, clearings and built their cabins in the shadow of
+      the blue wall that for a time marked the furthest goal of their desires.
+      But only for a time. Crossing the mountains they found the headwaters once
+      more, and following the streams out of the hills saw the roaring torrents
+      become great placid rivers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington's father had put the mountains at his back thirty years before.
+      The Watauga settlements had furnished him a wife, and some four years
+      later Bruce was born on the banks of the Ohio. The senior Carrington had
+      appeared on horseback as a wooer, but had walked on foot as a married man,
+      each shift of residence he made having represented a descent to a lower
+      social level. On the death of his wife he had embarked in the river trade
+      with all that enthusiasm and hope he had brought to half-a-dozen other
+      occupations, for he was a gentleman of prodigious energy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bruce's first memories had to do with long nights when he perched beside
+      his father on the cabin roof of their keel-boat and watched the stars, or
+      the blurred line of the shore where it lay against the sky, or the lights
+      on other barges and rafts drifting as they were drifting, with their wheat
+      and corn and whisky to that common market at the river's mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sometimes they dragged their boat back up-stream, painfully, laboriously;
+      three or four months of unremitting toil sufficed for this, when the crew
+      sweated at the towing ropes from dawn until dark, that the rich planters
+      in Kentucky and Tennessee might have tea and wine for their tables, and
+      silks and laces for their womenfolk. More often they abandoned their boat
+      and tramped north, armed and watchful, since cutthroats and robbers
+      haunted the roads, and river-men, if they had not drunk away their last
+      dollar in New Orleans, were worth spoiling. Or, if it offered, they took
+      passage on some fast sailing clipper bound for Baltimore or Philadelphia,
+      and crossed the mountains to the Ohio and were within a week or two of
+      home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bruce Carrington had seen the day of barge and raft reach its zenith, had
+      heard the first steam packet's shrieking whistle which sounded the
+      death-knell of the ancient order, though the shifting of the trade was a
+      slow matter and the glory of the old did not pass over to the new at once,
+      but lingered still in mighty fleets of rafts and keel-boats and in the
+      Homeric carousals of some ten thousand of the half-horse, half-alligator
+      breed that nightly gathered in New Orleans. Broad-horns and mud-sills they
+      were called in derision. A strange race of aquatic pioneers, jeans and
+      leather clad, the rifle and the setting-pole equally theirs, they came out
+      of every stream down which a scow could be thrust at flood-time; from tiny
+      settlements far back among the hills; from those bustling sinks of
+      iniquity, the river towns. But now, surely, yet almost imperceptibly,
+      their commerce was slipping from them. At all the landings they were being
+      elbowed by the newcomers&mdash;men who wore brass buttons and gold braid,
+      and shiny leather shoes instead of moccasins; men with white hands and
+      gold rings on their fingers and diamonds in their shirts&mdash;men whose
+      hair and clothing kept the rancid smell of oil and smoke and machinery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After the reading of the warrant that morning, Charley Balaam had shown
+      Carrington the road to the Forks, assuring him when they separated that
+      with a little care and decent use of his eyes it would be possible to
+      fetch up there and not pass plumb through the settlement without knowing
+      where he was. But Carrington had found the Forks without difficulty. He
+      had seen the old mill his grandfather had built almost a hundred years
+      before, and in the churchyard he had found the graves and read the
+      inscriptions that recorded the virtues of certain dead and gone
+      Carringtons. It had all seemed a very respectable link with the past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was on his way to Fayetteville, where he intended to spend the night,
+      and perhaps a day or two in looking around, when the meeting with Betty
+      and Murrell occurred. As Murrell disappeared in the direction of Balaam's,
+      Carrington took a spiteful kick at the unoffending coin, and strode off
+      down the Fayetteville pike. But the girl's face remained with him. It was
+      a face he would like to see again. He wondered who she was, and if she
+      lived in the big house on the other road, the house beyond the red gate
+      which Charley Balaam had told him was called the Barony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was still thinking of the girl when he ate his supper that night at
+      Cleggett's Tavern. Later, in the bar, he engaged his host in idle gossip.
+      Mr. Cleggett knew all about the Barony and its owner, Nat Ferris. Ferris
+      was a youngish man, just married. Carrington experienced a quick sinking
+      of the heart. A fleeting sense of humor succeeded&mdash;had he interfered
+      between man and wife? But surely if this had been the case the girl would
+      not have spoken as she had.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He wound Mr. Cleggett up with sundry pegs of strong New England rum. He
+      had met a gentleman and lady on the road that day; he wondered, as he
+      toyed with his glass, if it could have been the Ferrises? Mounted? Yes,
+      mounted. Then it was Ferris and his wife&mdash;or it might have been
+      Captain Murrell and Miss Malroy the captain was a strapping, black-haired
+      chap who rode a big bay horse. Miss Malroy did not live in that part of
+      the country; she was a friend of Mrs. Ferris', belonged in Kentucky or
+      Tennessee, or somewhere out yonder&mdash;at any rate she was bringing her
+      visit to an end, for Ferris had instructed him to reserve a place for her
+      in the north-bound stage on the morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington suddenly remembered that he had some thought of starting north
+      in the morning himself, but he was still undecided. How about it if he
+      deferred his decision until the stage was leaving? Mr. Cleggett consulted
+      his bookings and was of the opinion that his chances would not be good;
+      and Carrington hastily paid down his money. Later in the privacy of his
+      own room he remarked meditatively, viewing his reflection in the mirror
+      that hung above the chimneypiece, &ldquo;I reckon you're plain crazy!&rdquo; and
+      seemed to free himself from all further responsibility for his own acts
+      whatever they might be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The stage left at six, and as Carrington climbed to his seat the next
+      morning Mr. Cleggett was advising the driver to look sharp when he came to
+      the Barony road, as he was to pick up a party there. It was Carrington who
+      looked sharp, and almost at the spot where he had seen Betty Malroy the
+      day before he saw her again, with Ferris and Judith and a pile of luggage
+      bestowed by the wayside. Betty did not observe him as the coach stopped,
+      for she was intent on her farewells with her friends. There were hasty
+      words of advice from Ferris, prolonged good-byes to Judith, tears&mdash;kisses&mdash;while
+      a place was being made for her many boxes and trunks. Carrington viewed
+      the luggage with awe, and listened without shame. He gathered that she was
+      going north to Washington; that her final destination was some point
+      either on the Ohio or Mississippi, and that her name was Betty. Then the
+      door slammed and the stage was in motion again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington felt sensibly enriched by the meager facts now in his
+      possession. He was especially interested in her name. Be liked the sound
+      of it. It suited her. He even tried it under his breath softly. Betty&mdash;Betty
+      Malroy&mdash;next he fell to wondering if those few hurried words she had
+      addressed to him could possibly be construed as forming a basis for a
+      further acquaintance. Or wasn't it far more likely she would prefer to
+      forget the episode of the previous day, which had clearly been anything
+      but agreeable?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All through the morning they swung forward in the heat and dust and glare,
+      with now and then a brief pause when they changed horses, and at midday
+      rattled into the shaded main street of a sleepy village and drew up before
+      the tavern where dinner was waiting them&mdash;a fact that was announced
+      by a bare-legged colored boy armed with a club, who beat upon a suspended
+      wagon tire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty saw Carrington when she took her seat, and gave a scarcely
+      perceptible start of surprise. Then her face was flooded with a rich
+      color. This was the man who saw her with Captain Murrell yesterday I What
+      must he think of her! There was a brief moment of irresolution and then
+      she bowed coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You just barely managed it. I reckon nobody could misunderstand that. By
+      no means cordial&mdash;but of course not!&rdquo; Carrington reflected. His own
+      handsome face had been expressionless when he returned her bow, and Betty
+      could not have guessed how consoled and comforted he was by it. With great
+      fortitude and self-denial he forbore to look in her direction again, but
+      he lingered at the table until the last moment that he might watch her
+      when she returned to the coach. Mr. Carrington entertained ideals where
+      women were concerned, and even though he had been the one to profit by it
+      he would not have had Betty depart in the minutest particular from those
+      stringent rules he laid down for her sex. Consequently that distant air
+      she bore toward him filled him with satisfaction. It was quite enough for
+      the present&mdash;for the present&mdash;that three times each day his
+      perseverance and determination were rewarded by that curt little
+      acknowledgment of her indebtedness to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was four days to Richmond. Four days of hot, dusty travel, four nights
+      of uncomfortable cross-road stations, where Betty suffered sleepless
+      nights and the unaccustomed pangs of early rising. She occasionally found
+      herself wondering who Carrington was. She approved of the manner in which
+      he conducted himself. She liked a man who could be unobtrusive. Traveling
+      like that day after day it would have been so easy for him to be
+      officious. But he never addressed her and refused to see any opportunity
+      to assist her in entering or quitting the stage, leaving that to some one
+      else. Presently she was sorry she had bowed to him that first day&mdash;so
+      self-contained and unpresuming a person as he would evidently have been
+      quite satisfied to overlook the omission. Then she began to be haunted by
+      doubts. Perhaps, after all, he had not recognized her as the girl he had
+      met in the road! This gave her a very queer feeling indeed&mdash;for what
+      must he think of her? And the next time she bowed to this perfect stranger
+      she threw a chilling austerity into the salutation quite at variance with
+      her appearance, for the windy drive had tangled her hair and blown it in
+      curling wisps about her face. This served to trouble Carrington
+      excessively, and furnished him with food for reflection through all his
+      waking moments for the succeeding eight and forty hours.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning he found himself seated opposite her at breakfast. He
+      received another curt little nod, cool and distant, as he took his seat,
+      but he felt strongly that a mere bowing acquaintance would no longer
+      suffice; so he passed her a number of things she didn't want, and
+      presently ventured the opinion that she must find traveling as they were,
+      day after day, very fatiguing. Surprised at the sound of his voice, before
+      she knew what she was doing, Betty said, &ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; closed her red
+      lips, and was immediately dumb.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington at once relapsed into silence and ventured no further opinion
+      on any topic. Betty was left wondering whether she had been rude, and when
+      they met again asked if the stage would reach Washington at the advertised
+      hour. She had been consulting the copy of Badger's and Porter's Register
+      which Ferris had thrust into her satchel the morning she left the Barony,
+      and which, among a multiplicity of detail as to hotels and taverns, gave
+      the runnings of all the regular stage lines, packets, canal-boats and
+      steamers, by which one could travel over the length and breadth of the
+      land. &ldquo;You stop in Washington?&rdquo; said Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty shook her head. &ldquo;No, I am going on to Wheeling.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're fortunate in being so nearly home,&rdquo; he observed. &ldquo;I am going on to
+      Memphis.&rdquo; He felt it was time she knew this, or else she might think his
+      movements were dictated by her own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty exclaimed: &ldquo;Why, I am going to Memphis, too!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you? By canal to Cumberland, and then by stage over the National Road
+      to Wheeling?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty nodded. &ldquo;It makes one wish they'd finish their railroads, doesn't
+      it? Do you suppose they'll ever get as far west as Memphis?&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They say it's going to be bad for the river trade when they're built on
+      something besides paper,&rdquo; answered Carrington. &ldquo;And I happen to be a
+      flatboat-man, Miss Malroy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty gave him a glance of surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, how did you learn my name?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I heard your friends speak it,&rdquo; he answered glibly. But Betty's
+      smooth brow was puckered thoughtfully. She wondered if he had&mdash;and if
+      he hadn't. It was very odd certainly that he should know it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So the railroads are going to hurt the steamboats?&rdquo; she presently said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I didn't say that. I was thinking of the flatboats that have already
+      been hurt by the steamers,&rdquo; he replied. Now to the western mind the
+      river-men typified all that was reckless and wild. It was their carousals
+      that gave an evil repute to such towns as Natchez. But this particular
+      river-man looked harmless. &ldquo;Carrington is my name, Miss Malroy,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No more was said just then, for Betty became reserved and he did not
+      attempt to resume the conversation. A day later they rumbled into
+      Washington, and as Betty descended from the coach, Carrington stepped to
+      her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose you'll stop here, Miss Malroy?&rdquo; he said, indicating the tavern
+      before which the stage had come to a stand. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Betty briefly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I can be of any service to you&mdash;&rdquo; he began, with just a touch of
+      awkwardness in his manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I thank you, Mr. Carrington,&rdquo; said Betty quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night... good-by,&rdquo; he turned away, and Betty saw his tall form
+      disappear in the twilight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. THE FIGHT AT SLOSSON'S TAVERN
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Murrell had ridden out of the hills some hours back. He now faced the
+      flashing splendors of a June sunset, but along the eastern horizon the
+      mountains rose against a somber sky. Night was creeping into their
+      fastnesses. Already there was twilight in those cool valleys lying within
+      the shadow of mighty hills. A month and more had elapsed since Bob Yancy's
+      trial. Just two days later man and boy disappeared from Scratch Hill. This
+      had served to rouse Murrell to the need of immediate action, but he found,
+      where Yancy was concerned, Scratch Hill could keep a secret, while
+      Crenshaw's mouth was closed on any word that might throw light on the
+      plans of his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's plain to my mind, Captain, that Bladen will never get the boy. I
+      reckon Bob's gone into hiding with him,&rdquo; said the merchant, with spacious
+      candor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fugitives had not gone into hiding, however; they had traversed the
+      state from east to west, and Murrell was soon on their trail and pressing
+      forward in pursuit. Reaching the mountains, he heard of them first as ten
+      days ahead of him and bound for west Tennessee, the ten days dwindled to a
+      week, the week became five days, the five days three; and now as he
+      emerged from the last range of hills he caught sight of them. They were
+      half a mile distant perhaps, but he was certain that the man and boy he
+      saw pass about a turn in the road were the man and boy he had been
+      following for a month.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was not mistaken. The man was Bob Yancy and the boy was Hannibal. Yancy
+      had acted with extraordinary decision. He had sold his few acres at
+      Scratch Hill for a lump sum to Crenshaw&mdash;it was to the latter's
+      credit that the transaction was one in which he could feel no real pride
+      as a man of business&mdash;and just a day later Yancy and the boy had
+      quitted Scratch Hill in the gray dawn, and turned their faces westward.
+      Tennessee had become their objective point, since here was a region to
+      which they could fix a name, while the rest of the world was strange to
+      them. As they passed the turn in the road where Murrell had caught his
+      first sight of them, Yancy glanced back at the blue wall of the mountains
+      where it lay along the horizon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Nevvy,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we've put a heap of distance between us and old
+      Scratch Hill; all I can say is, if there's as much the other side of the
+      Hill as there is this side, the world's a monstrous big place fo' to
+      ramble about in.&rdquo; He carried his rifle and a heavy pack. Hannibal had a
+      much smaller pack and his old sporting rifle, burdens of which his Uncle
+      Bob relieved him at brief intervals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the past ten days their journey had been conducted in a leisurely
+      fashion. As Yancy said, they were seeing the world, and it was well to
+      take a good look at it while they had a chance. He was no longer fearful
+      of pursuit and his temperament asserted itself&mdash;the minimum of
+      activity sufficed. Usually they camped just where the night overtook them;
+      now and then they varied this by lodging at some tavern, for since there
+      was money in his pocket, Yancy was disposed to spend it. He could not
+      conceive that it had any other possible use.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly out of the silence came the regular beat of hoofs. These grew
+      nearer and nearer, and at last when they were quite close, Yancy faced
+      about. He instantly recognized Murrell and dropped his rifle into the
+      crook of his arm. The act was instinctive, since there was no reason to
+      believe that the captain had the least interest in the boy. Smilingly
+      Murrell reined in his horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;Bob Yancy!&rdquo; he cried, in apparent astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir&mdash;Bob Yancy. Does it happen you are looking fo' him,
+      Captain?&rdquo; inquired Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;no, Bob. I'm on my way West. Shake hands.&rdquo; His manner was frank
+      and winning, and Yancy met it with an equal frankness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, me and my nevvy are glad to meet some one we've knowed afore.
+      The world are a lonesome place once you get shut of yo'r own dooryard,&rdquo; he
+      said. Murrell slipped from his saddle and fell into step at Yancy's side
+      as they moved forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They were mightily stirred up at the Cross Roads when I left, wondering
+      what had come of you,&rdquo; he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When did you quit there?&rdquo; asked Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About a fortnight ago,&rdquo; said Murrell. &ldquo;Every one approves of your action
+      in this matter, Yancy,&rdquo; he went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's kind of them,&rdquo; responded Yancy, a little dryly. There was no
+      reason for it, but he was becoming distrustful of Murrell, and uneasy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bladen's hurt himself by the stand he's taken it this matter,&rdquo; Murrell
+      added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They went forward in silence, Yancy brooding and suspicious. For the last
+      mile or so their way had led through an unbroken forest, but a sudden turn
+      in the road brought them to the edge of an extensive clearing. Close to
+      the road were several buildings, but not a tree had been spared to shelter
+      them and they stood forth starkly, the completing touch to a civilization
+      that was still in its youth, unkempt, rather savage, and ruthlessly
+      utilitarian. A sign, the work of inexpert hands, announced the somewhat
+      dingy structure of hewn logs that stood nearest the roadside a tavern.
+      There was a horse rack in front of it and a trampled space. It was flanked
+      by its several sheds and barns on one hand and a woodpile on the other.
+      Beyond the woodpile a rail fence inclosed a corn-field, and beyond the
+      barns and sheds a similar fence defined the bounds of a stumpy
+      pasture-lot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the door of the tavern the figure of a man emerged. Pausing by the
+      horse rack he surveyed the two men and boy, if not with indifference, at
+      least with apathy. Just above his head swung the sign with its legend,
+      &ldquo;Slosson&mdash;Entertainment&rdquo;; but if he were Slosson, one could take the
+      last half of the sign either as a poetic rhapsody on the part of the
+      painter, or the yielding to some meaningless convention, for in his
+      person, Mr. Slosson suggested none of those qualities of brain or heart
+      that trenched upon the lighter amenities of life. He was black-haired and
+      bull-necked, and there was about him a certain shagginess which a recent
+      toilet performed at the horse trough had not served to mitigate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Howdy?&rdquo; he drawled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Howdy?&rdquo; responded Mr. Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall you stop here?&rdquo; asked Murrell, sinking his voice. Yancy nodded.
+      &ldquo;Can you put us up?&rdquo; inquired Murrell, turning to the tavern-keeper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon that's what I'm here for,&rdquo; said Slosson. Murrell glanced about
+      the empty yard. &ldquo;Slack,&rdquo; observed Slosson languidly. &ldquo;Yes, sir, slack's
+      the only name for it.&rdquo; It was understood he referred to the state of
+      trade. He looked from one to the other of the two men. As his eyes rested
+      on Murrell, that gentleman raised the first three fingers of his right
+      hand. The gesture was ever so little, yet it seemed to have a tonic effect
+      on Mr. Slosson. What might have developed into a smile had he not
+      immediately suppressed it, twisted his bearded lips as he made an
+      answering movement. &ldquo;Eph, come here, you!&rdquo; Slosson raised his voice. This
+      call brought a half-grown black boy from about a corner of the tavern, to
+      whom Murrell relinquished his horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let's liquor,&rdquo; said the captain over his shoulder, moving off in the
+      direction of the bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come on, Nevvy!&rdquo; said Yancy following, and they all entered the tavern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, here's to the best of good luck!&rdquo; said Murrell, as he raised his
+      glass to his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Same here,&rdquo; responded Yancy. Murrell pulled out a roll of bills, one of
+      which he tossed on the bar. Then after a moment's hesitation he detached a
+      second bill from the roll and turned to Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, youngster&mdash;a present for you;&rdquo; he said good-naturedly.
+      Hannibal, embarrassed by the unexpected gift, edged to his Uncle Bob's
+      side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't you-all got nothing to say to the gentleman?&rdquo; asked Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir,&rdquo; said the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That sounds a heap better. Let's see&mdash;why, if it ain't ten dollars&mdash;think
+      of that!&rdquo; said Yancy, in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let's have another drink,&rdquo; suggested Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently Hannibal stole out into the yard. He still held the bill in his
+      hand, for he did not quite know how to dispose of his great wealth. After
+      debating this matter for a moment he knotted it carefully in one corner of
+      his handkerchief. But this did not quite suit him, for he untied the knot
+      and looked at the bill again, turning it over and over in his hand. Then
+      he folded it carefully into the smallest possible compass and once more
+      tied a corner of his handkerchief about it, this time with two knots
+      instead of one; these he afterward tested with his teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I 'low she won't come undone now!&rdquo; he said, with satisfaction. He stowed
+      the handkerchief away in his trousers pocket, ramming it very tight with
+      his fist. He was much relieved when this was done, for wearing a care-free
+      air he sauntered across the yard and established himself on the top rail
+      of the corn-field fence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colored boy, armed with an ax, appeared at the woodpile and began to
+      chop in the desultory fashion of his race, pausing every few seconds to
+      stare in the direction of his white compatriot, who met his glance with
+      reserve. Whereupon Mr. Slosson's male domestic indulged in certain strange
+      antics that were not rightly any part of woodchopping. This yet further
+      repelled Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The disgustin' chattel!&rdquo; he muttered under his breath, quoting his Uncle
+      Bob, with whom, in theory at least, race feeling was strong. Yancy
+      appeared at the door of the bar and called to him, and as the boy slid
+      from the fence and ran toward him across the yard, the Scratch Hiller
+      sauntered forth to meet him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon it's all right, Nevvy,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but we don't know nothing
+      about this here Captain Murrell&mdash;as he calls himself&mdash;though he
+      seems a right clever sort of gentleman; but we won't mention Belle Plain.&rdquo;
+       With this caution he led the way into the tavern and back through the bar
+      to a low-ceilinged room where Murrell and Slosson were already at table.
+      It was intolerably hot, and there lingered in the heavy atmosphere of the
+      place stale and unappetizing odors. Only Murrell attempted conversation
+      and he was not encouraged; and presently silence fell on the room except
+      for the rattle of dishes and the buzzing of flies. When they had finished,
+      the stale odors and the heat drove them quickly into the bar again, where
+      for a little time Hannibal sat on Yancy's knee, by the door. Presently he
+      slipped down and stole out into the yard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The June night was pulsing with life. Above him bats darted in short
+      circling flights. In the corn-field and pasture-lot the fireflies lifted
+      from their day-long sleep, showing pale points of light in the half
+      darkness, while from some distant pond or stagnant watercourse came the
+      booming of frogs, presently to swell into a resonant chorus. These were
+      the summer night sounds he had known as far back as his memory went.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the tavern the three men were drinking&mdash;Murrell with the idea that
+      the more Yancy came under the influence of Slosson's corn whisky the
+      easier his speculation would be managed. Mr. Yancy on his part believed
+      that if Murrell went to bed reasonably drunk he would sleep late and give
+      him the opportunity he coveted, to quit the tavern unobserved at break of
+      day. Gradually the ice of silence which had held them mute at supper,
+      thawed. At first it was the broken lazy speech of men who were disposed to
+      quiet, then the talk became brisk&mdash;a steady stream of rather dreary
+      gossip of horses and lands and negroes, of speculations past and gone in
+      these great staples.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal crossed to the corn-field. There, in the friendly gloom, he
+      examined his handkerchief and felt of the rolled-up bill. Then he made
+      count of certain silver and copper coins which he had in his other pocket.
+      Satisfied that he had sustained no loss, he again climbed to the top rail
+      of the fence where he seated himself with an elbow resting on one knee and
+      his chin in the palm of his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got ten dollars and seventy cents&mdash;yes, sir&mdash;and the clostest
+      shooting rifle I ever tossed to my shoulder.&rdquo; He seemed but small to have
+      accomplished such a feat. He meditated for a little space. &ldquo;I reckon when
+      we strike the settlements again I should like to buy my Uncle Bob a
+      present.&rdquo; With knitted brows he considered what this should be, canvassing
+      Yancy's needs. He had about decided on a ring such as Captain Murrell was
+      wearing, when he heard the shuffling of bare feet over the ground and a
+      voice spoke out of the darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When yo' get to feelin' like sleep, young boss, Mas'r Slosson he says I
+      show yo' to yo' chamber.&rdquo; It was Slosson's boy Eph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you-all happen to notice what they're doing in the tavern now?&rdquo; asked
+      Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I low they're makin' a regular hog-killin' of it,&rdquo; said Eph smartly.
+      Hannibal descended from the fence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you can show me my chamber,&rdquo; he said, and his tone was severe. What
+      a white man did was not a matter for a black man to criticize. They went
+      toward the open door of the tavern. Mr. Slosson's corn whisky had already
+      wrought a marked transformation in the case of Slosson himself. His
+      usually terse speech was becoming diffuse and irrelevant, while vacant
+      laughter issued from his lips. Yancy was apparently unaffected by the good
+      cheer of which he had partaken, but Murrell's dark face was flushed. The
+      Scratch Hiller's ability to carry his liquor exceeded anything he had
+      anticipated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You-all run along to bed, Nevvy,&rdquo; said Yancy, as Hannibal entered the
+      room. &ldquo;I'll mighty soon follow you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Eph secured a tin candle-stick with a half-burnt candle in it and led the
+      way into the passage back of the bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mas'r Slosson's jus' mo' than layin' back!&rdquo; he said, as he closed the
+      door after them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you-all will lay back, too, when you get growed up,&rdquo; retorted
+      Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir, I won't. White folks won't let a nigger lay back. Onliest time a
+      nigger sees co'n whisky's when he's totin' it fo' some one else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon a nigger's fool enough without corn whisky,&rdquo; said Hannibal. They
+      mounted a flight of stairs and passed down a narrow hall. This brought
+      them to the back of the building, and Eph pushed open the door on his
+      right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This heah's yo' chamber,&rdquo; he said, and preceding his companion into the
+      room, placed the candle on a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;I low I clean forgot something!&rdquo; cried Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it's yo' bundle and yo' gun, I done fotched 'em up heah and laid 'em
+      on yo' bed,&rdquo; said Eph, preparing' to withdraw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly am obliged to you,&rdquo; said Hannibal, and with a good night, Eph
+      retired, closing the door after him, and the boy heard the patter of his
+      bare feet as he scuttled down the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The moon was rising and Hannibal went to the open window and glanced out.
+      His room overlooked the back yard of the inn and a neglected truck patch.
+      Starting from a point beyond the truck patch and leading straight away to
+      the woodland beyond was a fenced lane, with the corn-field and the
+      pasture-lot on either hand. Immediately below his window was the steeply
+      slanting roof of a shed. For a moment he considered the night, not
+      unaffected by its beauty, then, turning from the window, he moved his
+      bundle and rifle to the foot of the bed, where they would be out of his
+      way, kicked off his trousers, blew out the candle and lay down. The gossip
+      of the men in the bar ran like a whisper through the house, and with it
+      came frequent bursts of noisy laughter. Listening for these sounds the boy
+      dozed off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy had become more and more convinced as the evening passed that
+      Murrell was bent on getting him drunk, and suspicion mounted darkly to his
+      brain. He felt certain that he was Bladen's agent. Now, Mr. Yancy took an
+      innocent pride in his ability to &ldquo;cool off liquor.&rdquo; Perhaps it was some
+      heritage from a well living ancestry that had hardened its head with Port
+      and Madeira in the days when the Yancys owned their acres and their
+      slaves. Be that as it may, he was equal to the task he had set himself. He
+      saw with satisfaction the flush mount to Murrell's swarthy cheeks, and
+      felt that the limit of his capacity was being reached. Mr. Slosson had
+      become a sort of Greek chorus. He anticipated all the possible phases of
+      drunkenness that awaited his companions. He went from silence to noisy
+      mirth, when his unmeaning laughter rang through the house; he told long
+      witless stories as he leaned against the bar; he became melancholy and
+      described the loss of his wife five years before. From melancholy he
+      passed to sullenness and seemed ready to fasten a quarrel on Yancy, but
+      the latter deftly evaded any such issue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you-all want is another drink,&rdquo; he said affably. &ldquo;With all you been
+      through you need a tonic, so shove along that extract of cornshucks and
+      molasses!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a rip-staver,&rdquo; said Slosson thickly. &ldquo;But I've knowed enough sorrow
+      to kill a horse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have that look. Captain, will you join us?&rdquo; asked Yancy. Murrell
+      shook his head, but he made a significant gesture to Slosson as Yancy
+      drained his glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have a drink with me!&rdquo; cried Slosson, giving way to drunken laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you reckon you'll spite yo' appetite fo' breakfast, neighbor?&rdquo;
+       suggested Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean you won't drink with me?&rdquo; roared Slosson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The captain's dropped out and I 'low it's about time fo' these here
+      festivities to come to an end. I'm thinking some of going to bed myself,&rdquo;
+       said Yancy. He kept his eyes fixed on Murrell. He realized that if the
+      latter could prevent it he was not to leave the bar. Murrell stood between
+      him and the door; more than this, he stood between him and his rifle,
+      which leaned against the wall in the far corner of the room. Slosson
+      roared out a protest to his words. &ldquo;That's all right, neighbor,&rdquo; retorted
+      Yancy over his shoulder, &ldquo;but I'm going to bed.&rdquo; He never shifted his
+      glance from Murrell's face. Scowling now, the captain's eyes blazed back
+      their challenge as he thrust his right hand under his coat. &ldquo;Fair play&mdash;I
+      don't know who you are, but I know what you want!&rdquo; said Yancy, the light
+      in his frank gray eyes deepening. Murrell laughed and took a forward step.
+      At the same moment Slosson snatched up a heavy club from back of the bar
+      and dealt Yancy a murderous blow. A single startled cry escaped the
+      Scratch Hitler; he struck out wildly as he lurched toward Murrell, who
+      drew his knife and drove it into his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Groping wildly, Yancy reached his rifle and faced about. His scalp lay
+      open where Slosson's treacherous blow had fallen and his face was covered
+      with blood; even as his fingers stiffened they found the hammer, but
+      Murrell, springing forward, kicked the gun out of his hands. Dashing the
+      blood from his eyes, Yancy threw himself on Murrell. Then, as they
+      staggered to and fro, Yancy dully bent on strangling his enemy, Slosson&mdash;whom
+      the sight of blood had wonderfully sobered&mdash;rushed out from the bar
+      and let loose a perfect torrent of blows with his club. Murrell felt the
+      fingers that gripped him grow weak, and Yancy dropped heavily to the
+      floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How long the boy slept he never knew, but he awoke with a start and a
+      confused sense of things. He seemed to have heard a cry for help. But the
+      tavern was very silent now. The distant murmur of voices and the shouts of
+      laughter had ceased. He lifted himself up on his elbow and glanced from
+      the window. The heavens were pale and gray. It was evidently very late,
+      probably long after midnight but where was his Uncle Bob?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sank back on his pillow intent and listening. What he had heard, what
+      he still expected to hear, he could not have told, but he was sure he had
+      been roused by a cry of some sort. A chilling terror that gripped him fast
+      and would not let him go, mounted to his brain. Once he thought he heard
+      cautious steps beyond his door. He could not be certain, yet he imagined
+      the bull-necked landlord standing with his ear to some crack seeking to
+      determine whether or not he slept. His thin little body grew rigid and a
+      cold sweat started from him. He momentarily expected the latch to be
+      lifted, then in the heavy silence he caught the sound of some stealthy
+      movement beyond the lath and plaster partition, and an instant later an
+      audible footfall. He heard the boards creak and give, as the person who
+      had been standing before his door passed down the hall, down the stairs,
+      and to the floor below.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Limp and shivering, he drew his scanty covering tight about him. In the
+      silence that succeeded, he once more became aware of the tireless chorus
+      of the frogs, the hooting of the owls, and the melancholy and oft-repeated
+      call of the whippoorwill. But where was his Uncle Bob? Why didn't he come
+      to bed? And whose was that cry for help he had heard? Memories of idle
+      tales of men foully dealt with in these lonely taverns, of murderous
+      landlords, and mysterious guests who were in league with them, flashed
+      through his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell had followed them for this&mdash;and had killed his Uncle Bob, and
+      he would be sent back to Bladen! The law had said that Bladen could have
+      him and that his Uncle Bob must give him up. The law put men in prison&mdash;it
+      hanged them sometimes&mdash;his Uncle Bob had told him all about it&mdash;by
+      the neck with ropes until they were dead! Maybe they wouldn't send him
+      back; maybe they would do with him what they had already done with his
+      Uncle Bob; he wanted the open air, the earth under his feet, and the sky
+      over his head. The four walls stifled him. He was not afraid of the night,
+      he could run and hide in it&mdash;there were the woods and fields where he
+      would be safe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He slid from the bed, and for a long moment stood cold and shaking, his
+      every sense on the alert. With infinite caution he got into his trousers
+      and again paused to listen, since he feared his least movement might
+      betray him. Reassured, he picked up his battered hat from the floor and
+      inch by inch crept across the squeaking boards to the window. When the
+      window was reached he paused once more to listen, but the quiet that was
+      everywhere throughout the house gave him confidence. He straddled the low
+      sill, and putting out his hand gripped the stock of his rifle and drew
+      that ancient weapon toward him. Next he secured his pack, and was ready
+      for flight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Encumbered by his belongings, but with no mind to sacrifice them, he
+      stepped out upon the shed and made his way down the slant of the roof to
+      the eaves. He tossed his bundle to the ground and going down on his knees
+      lowered his rifle, letting the muzzle fall lightly against the side of the
+      shed as it left his hand, then he lay flat on his stomach and, feet first,
+      wriggled out into space. When he could no longer preserve his balance, he
+      gave himself a shove away from the eaves and dropped clear of the
+      building.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he recovered himself he was sure he heard a door open and close, and
+      threw himself prone on the ground, where the black shadow cast by the
+      tavern hid him. At the same moment two dark figures came from about a
+      corner of the building. He could just distinguish that they carried some
+      heavy burden between them and that they staggered as they moved. He heard
+      Slosson curse drunkenly, and a whispered word from Murrell. The two men
+      slowly crossed the truck patch, and the boy's glance followed them, his
+      eyes starting from his head. Just at the mouth of the lane they paused and
+      put down their burden; a few words spoken in a whisper passed between them
+      and they began to drag some dark thing down the lane, their backs bent,
+      their heads bowed and the thing they dragged bumping over the uneven
+      ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They passed out of sight, and breathless and palsied, Hannibal crept about
+      a corner of the tavern. He must be sure! The door of the bar stood open;
+      the lamps were still burning, and the upturned chairs and a broken table
+      told of the struggle that had taken place there. The boy rested his hand
+      on the top step as he stared fearfully into the room. His palm came away
+      with a great crimson splotch. But he was not satisfied yet. He must be
+      sure&mdash;sure! He passed around the building as the men had done and
+      crossed the truck patch to the mouth of the lane. Here he slid through the
+      fence into the corn-field, and, well sheltered, worked his way down the
+      rows. Presently he heard a distant sound&mdash;a splash&mdash;surely it
+      was a splash&mdash;.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later the men came up the lane, to disappear in the direction of
+      the tavern. Hannibal peered after them. His very terrors, while they
+      wrenched and tortured him, gave him a desperate kind of courage. As the
+      gloom hid the two men, he started forward again; he must know the meaning
+      of that sound&mdash;that splash, if it was a splash. He reached the end of
+      the cornfield, climbed the fence, and entered a deadening of slashed and
+      mutilated timber. In the long wet grass he found where the men had dragged
+      their burden. He reached down and swept his hand to and fro&mdash;once&mdash;twice&mdash;the
+      third time his little palm came away red and discolored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was the first pale premonition of dawn in the sky, and as he hurried
+      on the light grew, and the black trunks of trees detached themselves from
+      the white mist that filled the woods and which the dawn made visible.
+      There was light enough for him to see that he was following the trail left
+      by the men; he could distinguish where the dew had been brushed from the
+      long grass. Advancing still farther, he heard the clear splash of running
+      water, an audible ripple that mounted into a silver cadence. Day was
+      breaking now. The lifeless gray along the eastern horizon had changed to
+      orange. Still following the trail, he emerged upon the bank of the Elk
+      River, white like the woods with its ghostly night sweat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dull beat of the child's heart quickened as he gazed out on the swift
+      current that was hurrying on with its dreadful secret. Then the full
+      comprehension of his loss seemed to overwhelm him and he was utterly
+      desolate. Sobs shook him, and he dropped on his knees, holding fast to the
+      stock of his rifle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle Bob&mdash;Uncle Bob, come back! Can't you come back!&rdquo; he wailed
+      miserably. Presently he staggered to his feet. Convulsive sobs still
+      wrenched his little body. What was he to do? Those men&mdash;his Uncle
+      Bob's murderers&mdash;would go to his room; they would find his empty bed
+      and their search for him would begin! Not for anything would he have gone
+      back through the corn-field or the lane to the road. He had the courage to
+      go forward, but not to retrace his steps; and the river, deep and swift,
+      barred his path. As he glanced about, he saw almost at his feet a dug-out,
+      made from a single poplar log. It was secured to an overhanging branch by
+      a length of wild grape-vine. With one last fearful look off across the
+      deadening in the direction of the tavern, he crept down to the water's
+      edge and entered the canoe. In a moment, he had it free from its lashing
+      and the rude craft was bumping along the bank in spite of his best efforts
+      with the paddle. Then a favoring current caught it and swept it out toward
+      the center of the stream.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was much too big and clumsy for him to control without the stream's
+      help, though he labored doggedly with his paddle. Now he was broadside to
+      the current, now he was being spun round and round, but always he was
+      carried farther and farther from the spot where he had embarked. He passed
+      about a bend; and a hundred yards beyond, about a second bend; then the
+      stream opened up straight before him a half-mile of smooth running water.
+      Far down it, at the point where the trees met in the unbroken line of the
+      forest and the water seemed to vanish mysteriously, he could distinguish a
+      black moving object; some ark or raft, doubtless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the smoother water of the long reach, Hannibal began to make head
+      against the flood. The farther shore became the nearer, and finally he
+      drove the bow of his canoe up on a bit of shelving bank, and seizing his
+      pack and rifle, sprang ashore. Panting and exhausted, he paused just long
+      enough to push the canoe out into the stream again, and then, with his
+      rifle and pack in his hands, turned his small tear-stained face toward the
+      wooded slope beyond. As he toiled up it in the wide silence of the dawn, a
+      mournful wind burst out of the north, filling the air about him with
+      withered leaves and the dead branches of trees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. ON THE RIVER
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Betty stood under a dripping umbrella in the midst of a drenching
+      downpour, her boxes and trunks forming a neat pyramid of respectable size
+      beside her. She was somewhat perturbed in spirit, since they contained
+      much elaborate finery all in the very latest eastern fashion, spoils that
+      were the fruit of a heated correspondence with Tom, who hadn't seemed at
+      all alive to the fact that Betty was nearly eighteen and in her own right
+      a young woman of property. A tarpaulin had been thrown over the heap, and
+      with one eye on it and the other on the stretch of yellow canal up which
+      they were bringing the fast packet Pioneer, she was waiting impatiently to
+      see her belongings transferred to a place of safety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just arrived by the four-horse coach that plyed regularly between
+      Washington and Georgetown, she had found the long board platform beside
+      the canal crowded with her fellow passengers, their number augmented by
+      those who delight to share vicariously in travel and to whom the departure
+      of a stage or boat was a matter of urgent interest requiring their
+      presence, rain or shine. Suddenly she became aware of a tall, familiar
+      figure moving through the crowd. It was Bruce Carrington. At the same
+      moment he saw her, and with a casual air that quite deceived her,
+      approached; and Betty, who had been feeling very lonely and very homesick,
+      was somehow instantly comforted at sight of him. She welcomed him almost
+      as a friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're leaving to-night?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;isn't it miserable the way it rains? And why are they so slow&mdash;why
+      don't they hurry with that boat?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's in the last lock now,&rdquo; explained Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My clothes will all be ruined,&rdquo; said Betty. He regarded the dress she
+      wore with instant concern. &ldquo;No&mdash;I mean the things in my trunks; this
+      doesn't matter,&rdquo; and Betty nodded toward the pile under the steaming
+      tarpaulin. Carrington's dark eyes opened with an expression of mild
+      wonder. And so those trunks were full of clothes&mdash;Oh, Lord!&mdash;he
+      looked down at the flushed, impatient face beside him with amusement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll see that they are taken care of,&rdquo; he said, for the boat was
+      alongside the platform now; and gathering up Betty's hand luggage, he
+      helped her aboard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By the time they had reached Wheeling, Betty had quite parted with
+      whatever superficial prejudice she might have had concerning river-men.
+      This particular one was evidently a very nice river-man, an exception to
+      his kind. She permitted him to assume the burden of her plans, and no
+      longer scanned the pages of her Badger's and Porter's with a puckered
+      brow. It reposed at the bottom of her satchel. He made choice of the
+      steamer on which she should continue her journey, and thoughtfully chose
+      The Naiad&mdash;a slow boat, with no reputation for speed to sustain. It
+      meant two or three days longer on the river, but what of that? There would
+      be no temptation in the engine-room to attach a casual wrench or so to the
+      safety-valve as an offset to the builder's lack of confidence in his own
+      boilers. He saw to it that her state-room was well aft&mdash;steamers had
+      a trick of blowing up forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ne had now reached a state of the utmost satisfaction with himself and the
+      situation. Betty was friendly and charming. He walked with her, and he
+      talked with her by the hour; and always he was being entangled deeper and
+      deeper in the web of her attraction. &ldquo;When alone he would pace the deck
+      recalling every word she had spoken. There was that little air of high
+      breeding which was Betty's that fascinated him. He had known something of
+      the other sort, those who had arrived at prosperity with manners and
+      speech that still reflected the meaner condition from which they had
+      risen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven't a thing to offer her&mdash;this is plain madness of mine!&rdquo; he
+      kept telling himself, and then the expression of his face would become
+      grim and determined. No more of the river for him&mdash;he'd get hold of
+      some land and go to raising cotton; that was the way money was made.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slow as The Naiad was, the days passed much too swiftly for him. When
+      Memphis was reached their friendly intercourse would come to an end. There
+      would be her brother, of whom she had occasionally spoken&mdash;he would
+      be pretty certain to have the ideas of his class.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for Betty, she liked this tall fellow who helped her through the
+      fatigue of those long days, when there was only the unbroken sweep of the
+      forest on either hand, with here and there a clearing where some
+      outrageous soul was making a home for himself. The shores became duller,
+      wilder, more uninteresting as they advanced, and then at last they entered
+      the Mississippi, and she was almost home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty was not unexcited by the prospect. She would be the mistress of the
+      most splendid place in West Tennessee. She secretly aspired to be a
+      brilliant hostess. She could remember when the doors of Belle Plain were
+      open to whoever had the least claim to distinction&mdash;statesmen and
+      speculators in land; men who were promoting those great schemes of
+      improvement, canals and railroads; hard-featured heroes of the two wars
+      with England&mdash;a diminishing group; the men of the modern army, the
+      pathfinders, and Indian fighters, and sometimes a titled foreigner. She
+      wondered if Tom had maintained the traditions of the place. She found that
+      Carrington had heard of Belle Plain. He spoke of it with respect, but with
+      a noticeable lack of enthusiasm, for how could he feel enthusiasm when he
+      must begin his chase after fortune with bare hands?&mdash;he suffered
+      acutely whenever it was mentioned. The days, like any other days,
+      dwindled. The end of it all was close at hand. Another twenty-four hours
+      and Carrington reflected there would only be good-by to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will reach New Madrid to-night,&rdquo; he told her. They were watching the
+      river, under a flood of yellow moonlight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then just another day&mdash;Oh, I can hardly wait!&rdquo; cried Betty
+      delightedly. &ldquo;Soon I shall hope to see you at Belle Plain, Mr.
+      Carrington,&rdquo; she added graciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, your&mdash;your family&mdash;&rdquo; he hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's only just Tom&mdash;he's my half-brother. My mother was left a
+      widow when I was a baby. Later, some years after, she married Tom's
+      father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;then he's not even your half-brother?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's no relation at all&mdash;and much older. When Tom's father died my
+      mother made Tom, manager, and still later he was appointed my guardian.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you own Belle Plain?&rdquo; and Carrington sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. You have never seen it?&mdash;it's right on the river, you know?&rdquo;
+       then Betty's face grew sober: &ldquo;Tom's dreadfully queer&mdash;I expect he'll
+      require a lot of managing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you'll be equal to that!&rdquo; said-Carrington, convinced of Betty's
+      all-compelling charm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I'm not at all certain about Tom&mdash;I can see where we shall have
+      serious differences; but then, I shan't have to struggle single-handed
+      with him long; a cousin of my mother's is coming to Belle Plain to make
+      her home with me&mdash;she'll make' him behave,&rdquo; and Betty laughed
+      maliciously. &ldquo;It's a great nuisance being a girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Betty fell to watching for the lights at New Madrid, her elbows
+      resting on the rail against which she was leaning, and the soft curve of
+      her chin sunk in the palms of her hands. She wondered absently what Judith
+      would have said of this river-man. She smiled a little dubiously. Judith
+      had certainly vindicated the sincerity of her convictions regarding the
+      importance of family, inasmuch as in marrying Ferris she had married her
+      own second cousin. She nestled her chin a little closer in her palms. She
+      remembered that they had differed seriously over Mr. Yancy's defiance, of
+      the law as it was supposed to be lodged in the sacred person of Mr.
+      Bladen's agent, the unfortunate Blount. Carrington, with his back against
+      a stanchion, watched her discontentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll be mighty glad to have this over with, Miss Malroy&mdash;&rdquo; he said
+      at length, with a comprehensive sweep toward the river.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;shan't you?&rdquo; and she opened her eyes questioningly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Carrington with a short laugh, drawing a chair near hers and
+      sitting down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty, in surprise, gave him a quick look, and then as quickly glanced
+      away from what she encountered in his eyes. Men were accustomed to talk
+      sentiment to her, but she had hoped&mdash;well, she really had thought
+      that he was, superior to this weakness. She had enjoyed the feeling that
+      here was some one, big and strong and thoroughly masculine, with whom she
+      could be friendly without&mdash;she took another look at him from under
+      the fringe of her long lashes. He was so nice and considerate&mdash;and
+      good looking&mdash;he was undeniably this last. It would be a pity! And
+      she had already determined that Tom should invite him to Belle Plain. She
+      didn't mind if he was a river-man&mdash;they could be friends, for clearly
+      he was such an exception. Tom should be cordial to him. Betty stared
+      before her, intently watching the river. As she looked, suddenly pale
+      points of light appeared on a distant headland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that New Madrid?&mdash;Oh, is it, Mr. Carrington?&rdquo;' she cried eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon so,&rdquo; but he did not alter his position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you're not looking!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am&mdash;I'm looking at you. I reckon you'll think me crazy, Miss
+      Malroy-presumptuous and all that but I wish Memphis could be wiped off the
+      map and that we could go on like this for ever!&mdash;no, not like this
+      but together&mdash;you and I,&rdquo; he took a deep breath. Betty drew a little
+      farther away, and looked at him reproachfully; and then she turned to the
+      dancing lights far down the river. Finally she said slowly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you were&mdash;different.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not,&rdquo; and Carrington's hand covered hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;you mustn't kiss my hand like that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear&mdash;I'm just a man&mdash;and you didn't expect, did you, that I
+      could see you this way day after day and not come to love you?&rdquo; He rested
+      his arm across the back of her chair and leaned toward her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;no&mdash;&rdquo; and Betty moved still farther away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me a chance to win your love, Betty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mustn't talk so&mdash;I am nothing to you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you are. You're everything to me,&rdquo; said Carrington doggedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not&mdash;I won't be!&rdquo; and Betty stamped her foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can't help it. I love you and that's all there is about it. I know
+      I'm a fool to tell you now, Betty, but years wouldn't make any difference
+      in my feeling; and I can't have you go, and perhaps never see you again,
+      if I can help it. Betty&mdash;give me a chance&mdash;you don't hate me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I do&mdash;yes, I do&mdash;indeed&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know you don't. Let me see you again and do what I can to make you care
+      for me!&rdquo; he implored. But he had a very indignant little aristocrat to
+      deal with. She was angry with him, and angry with herself that in spite of
+      herself his words moved her. She wouldn't have it so! Why, he wasn't even
+      of her class&mdash;her kind! &ldquo;Betty, you don't mean&mdash;&rdquo; he faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean&mdash;I am extremely annoyed. I mean just what I say.&rdquo; Betty
+      regarded him with wrathful blue eyes. It proved too much for Carrington.
+      His arm, dropped about her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall love me&mdash;&rdquo; She was powerless in his embrace. She felt his
+      breath on her cheek, then he kissed her. Breathless and crimson, she
+      struggled and pushed him from her. Suddenly his arms fell at his side; his
+      face was white. &ldquo;I was a brute to do that!&mdash;Betty, forgive me! I am
+      sorry&mdash;no, I can't be sorry!&rdquo;'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you dare! I hope I may never see you again&mdash;I hate you&mdash;&rdquo;
+       said Betty furiously, tears in her eyes and her pulses still throbbing
+      from his fierce caress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean that?&rdquo; he asked slowly, rising.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;a million times, yes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't believe you&mdash;I can't&mdash;I won't!&rdquo; They were alongside the
+      New Madrid wharf now, and a certain young man who had been impatiently
+      watching The Naiad's lights ever since they became visible crossed the
+      gang-plank with a bound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Betty&mdash;why in the name of goodness did you ever, choose this tub?&mdash;everything
+      on the river has passed it!&rdquo; said the newcomer. Betty started up with a
+      little cry of surprise and pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Charley!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington stepped back. This must be the brother who had come up the
+      river from Memphis to meet her&mdash;but her brother's name was Tom! He
+      looked this stranger&mdash;this Charley&mdash;over with a hostile eye,
+      offended by his good looks, his confident manner, in which he thought he
+      detected an air of ownership, as if&mdash;certainly he was holding her
+      hands longer than was necessary! Of course, other men were in love with
+      her, such a radiant personality held its potent attraction for men, but
+      for all that, she was going to belong to him&mdash;Carrington! She did
+      like him; she had shown it in a hundred little ways during the last week,
+      and he would give her up to no man&mdash;give her up?&mdash;there wasn't
+      the least tie between them&mdash;except that kiss&mdash;and she was
+      furious because of it. There was nothing for him to do but efface himself.
+      He would go now, before the boat started&mdash;and an instant later, when
+      Betty, remembering, turned to speak to him, his place by the rail was
+      deserted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. JUDGE SLOCUM PRICE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On that day Hannibal was haunted by the memory of what he had heard and
+      seen at Slosson's tavern. More than this, there was his terrible sense of
+      loss, and the grief he could not master, when his thin, little body was
+      shaken by sobs. Marking the course of the road westward, he clung to the
+      woods, where his movements were as stealthy as the very shadows
+      themselves. He shunned the scattered farms and the infrequent settlements,
+      for the fear was strong with him that he might be followed either by
+      Murrell or Slosson. But as the dusk of evening crept across the land, the
+      great woods, now peopled by strange shadows, sent him forth into the
+      highroad. He was beginning to be very tired, and hunger smote him with
+      fierce pangs, but back of it all was his sense of bitter loss, his
+      desolation, and his loneliness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't forget Uncle Bob if I tried&mdash;&rdquo; he told himself, with
+      quivering lips, as he limped wearily along the dusty road, and the tears
+      welled up and streaked his pinched face. Now before him he saw the
+      scattered lights of a settlement. All his terrors, the terrors that
+      grouped themselves about the idea of pursuit and capture, rushed back upon
+      him, and in a panic he plunged into the black woods again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the distant lights intensified his loneliness. He had lived a whole
+      day without food, a whole day without speech. He began to skirt the
+      settlement, keeping well within the thick gloom of the woods, and
+      presently, as he stumbled forward, he came to a small clearing in the
+      center of which stood a log dwelling. The place seemed deserted. There was
+      no sign of life, no light shone from the window, no smoke issued from the
+      stick-and-mud chimney.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tilted back in a chair by the door of this house a man was sleeping. The
+      hoot of an owl from a near-by oak roused him. He yawned and stretched
+      himself, thrusting out his fat legs and extending his great arms. Then
+      becoming aware of the small figure which had stolen up the path as he
+      slept and now stood before him in the uncertain light, he fell to rubbing
+      his eyes with the knuckles of his plump hands. The pale night mist out of
+      the silent depths of the forest had assumed shapes as strange.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; he demanded, and his voice rumbled thickly forth from his
+      capacious chest. The very sound was sleek and unctuous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Hannibal,&rdquo; said the small figure. He was meditating flight; he
+      glanced over his shoulder toward the woods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you ain't. He's been dead a thousand years, more or less. Try again,&rdquo;
+       recommended the man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Hannibal Wayne Hazard,&rdquo; said the boy. The man quitted his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;I am glad to know you, Hannibal Wayne Hazard. I am Slocum
+      Price&mdash;Judge Slocum Price, sometime major-general of militia and
+      ex-member of congress, to mention a few of those honors my fellow
+      countrymen have thrust upon me.&rdquo; He made a sweeping gesture with his two
+      hands outspread and bowed ponderously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy saw a man of sixty, whose gross and battered visage told its own
+      story. There was a sparse white frost about his ears; and his eyes, pale
+      blue and prominent, looked out from under beetling brows. He wore a shabby
+      plum-colored coat and tight, drab breeches. About his fat neck was a black
+      stock, with just a suggestion of soiled linen showing above it. His figure
+      was corpulent and unwieldy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man saw a boy of perhaps ten, barefoot, and clothed in homespun shirt
+      and trousers. On his head was a ruinous hat much too large for him, but
+      which in some mysterious manner he contrived to keep from quite engulfing
+      his small features, which were swollen and tear-stained. In his right hand
+      he carried a bundle, while his left clutched the brown barrel of a long
+      rifle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't belong in these parts, do you?&rdquo; asked the judge, when he had
+      completed his scrutiny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; answered the boy. He glanced off down the road, where lights
+      were visible among the trees. &ldquo;What town is that?&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pleasantville&mdash;which is a lie&mdash;but I am neither sufficiently
+      drunk nor sufficiently sober to cope with the possibilities your question
+      offers. It is a task one should approach only after extraordinary
+      preparation,&rdquo; and the sometime major-general of militia grinned
+      benevolently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a town, ain't it?&rdquo; asked Hannibal doubtfully. He scarcely understood
+      this large, smiling gentleman who was so civilly given to speech with him,
+      yet strangely enough he was not afraid of him, and his whole soul craved
+      human companionship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's got a name&mdash;but you'll excuse me, I'd much prefer not to tell
+      you how I regard it&mdash;you're too young to hear. But stop a bit&mdash;have
+      you so much as fifty cents about you?&rdquo; and the judge's eyes narrowed to a
+      slit above their folds of puffy flesh. Hannibal, keeping his glance fixed
+      on the man's face, fell back a step. &ldquo;I can't let you go if you are
+      penniless&mdash;I can't do that!&rdquo; cried the judge, with sudden vehemence.
+      &ldquo;You shall be my guest for the night. They're a pack of thieves at the
+      tavern,&rdquo; he lowered his voice. &ldquo;I know 'em, for they've plucked me!&rdquo; To
+      make sure of his prey, he rested a fat hand on the boy's shoulder and drew
+      him gently but firmly into the shanty. As they crossed the threshold he
+      kicked the door shut, then with flint and steel he made a light, and
+      presently a candle was sputtering in his hands. He fitted it into the neck
+      of a tall bottle, and as the light flared up the boy glanced about him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The interior was mean enough, with its rough walls, dirt floor and black,
+      cavernous fireplace. A rude clapboard table did duty as a desk, a fact
+      made plain by a horn ink-well, a notary's seal, and a rack with a
+      half-dozen quill pens. Above the desk was a shelf of books in worn calf
+      bindings, and before it a rickety chair. A shakedown bed in one corner of
+      the room was tastefully screened from the public gaze by a tattered quilt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boy, don't be afraid. Look on me as a friend,&rdquo; urged the judge, who
+      towered above him in the dim candle-light. &ldquo;Here's comfort without
+      ostentation. Don't tell me you prefer the tavern, with its corrupt
+      associations!&rdquo; Hannibal was silent, and the judge, after a brief moment of
+      irresolution, threw open the door. Then he bent toward the small stranger,
+      bringing his face close to the child's, while his thick lips wreathed
+      themselves in a smile ingratiatingly genial. &ldquo;You can't look me squarely
+      in the eye and say you prefer the tavern to these scholarly surroundings?&rdquo;
+       he said banteringly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I'll be glad to stop,&rdquo; answered Hannibal. The judge clapped him
+      playfully on the back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Such confidence is inspiring! Make yourself perfectly at home. Are you
+      hungry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. I ain't had much to eat to-day,&rdquo; replied Hannibal cautiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can offer you food then. What do you say to cold fish?&rdquo; the judge
+      smacked his lips to impart a relish to the idea. &ldquo;I dare swear I can find
+      you some corn bread into the bargain. Tea I haven't got. On the advice of
+      my physician, I don't use it. What do you say&mdash;shall we light a fire
+      and warm the fish?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I 'low I could eat it cold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No trouble in the world to start a fire. All we got to do is to go out,
+      and pull a few palings off the fence,&rdquo; urged the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will do all right just like it is,&rdquo; said Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, then!&rdquo; cried the judge gaily, and he began to assemble the
+      dainties he had enumerated. &ldquo;Here you are!&rdquo; he cleared his throat
+      impressively, while benignity shone from every feature of his face. &ldquo;A
+      moment since you allowed me to think that you were solvent to the extent
+      of fifty cents&mdash;&rdquo; Hannibal looked puzzled. The judge dealt him a
+      friendly blow on the back, then stood off and regarded him with a glance
+      of great jocularity, his plump knuckles on his hips and his arms akimbo.
+      &ldquo;I wonder&rdquo;&mdash;and his eyes assumed a speculative squint &ldquo;I wonder if
+      you could be induced to make a temporary loan of that fifty cents? The sum
+      involved is really such a ridiculous trifle I don't need to point out to
+      you the absolute moral certainty of my returning it at an early date&mdash;say
+      to-morrow morning; say to-morrow afternoon at the latest; say even the day
+      after at the very outside. Meantime, you shall be my guest. The landlady's
+      son has found my notarial seal an admirable plaything&mdash;she has had to
+      lick the little devil twice for hooking it&mdash;my pens and stationery
+      are at your disposal, should you desire to communicate to absent friends;
+      you can have the run of my library!&rdquo; the judge fairly trembled in his
+      eagerness. It was not the loss of his money that Hannibal most feared, and
+      the coin passed from his possession into his host's custody. As it dropped
+      into the latter's great palm he was visibly moved. His moist, blue eyes
+      became yet more watery, while his battered old face assumed an expression
+      indicating deep inward satisfaction. &ldquo;Thank you, my boy! This is one of
+      those intrinsically trifling benefits which, conferred at the moment of
+      acute need, touch the heart and tap the unfailing springs of human
+      gratitude&mdash;I must step down to the tavern&mdash;when I return, please
+      God, we shall know more of each other.&rdquo; While he was still speaking he had
+      produced a jug from behind the quilt that screened his bed, and now,
+      bareheaded, and with every indication of haste, took himself off into the
+      night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Left alone, Hannibal gravely seated himself at the table. What the judge's
+      larder lacked in variety it more than made up for in quantity, and the boy
+      was grateful for this fact. He was half famished, and the coarse, abundant
+      food was of the sort to which he was accustomed. Presently he heard the
+      judge's heavy, shuffling step as he came up the path from the road, and a
+      moment later his gross bulk of body filled the doorway. Breathing hard and
+      perspiring, the judge entered the shanty, but his eagerness, together with
+      his shortness of breath, kept him silent until he had established himself
+      in his chair beside the table, with the jug and a cracked glass at his
+      elbow. Then, bland and smiling, he turned toward his guest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you join me?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir. Please, I'd rather not,&rdquo; said Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean that you don't like good liquor?&rdquo; demanded the judge. &ldquo;Not
+      even with sugar and a dash of water?&mdash;say, now, don't you like it
+      that way, my boy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't learned to like it no ways,&rdquo; said Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You amaze me&mdash;well&mdash;well&mdash;the greater the joy to which you
+      may reasonably aspire. The splendid possibilities of youth are yours. My
+      tenderest regards, Hannibal!&rdquo; and he nodded over the rim of the cracked
+      glass his shaking hand had carried to his lips. Twice the glass was filled
+      and emptied, and then again, his roving, watery eyes rested meditatively
+      on the child, who sat very erect in his chair, with his brown hands
+      crossed in his lap. &ldquo;Personally, I can drink or not,&rdquo; explained the judge.
+      &ldquo;But I hope I am too much a man of the world to indulge in any intemperate
+      display of principle.&rdquo; He proved the first clause of his proposition by
+      again filling and emptying his glass. &ldquo;Have you a father?&rdquo; he asked
+      suddenly. Hannibal shook his head. &ldquo;A mother?&rdquo; demanded the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They both of them done died years and years ago,&rdquo; answered the boy. &ldquo;I
+      can't tell you how long back it was, but I reckon I don't know much about
+      it. I must have been a small child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho&mdash;a small child!&rdquo; cried the judge, laughing. He cocked his head on
+      one side and surveyed Hannibal Wayne Hazard with a glance of comic
+      seriousness. &ldquo;A small child and in God's name what do you call yourself
+      now? To hear you talk one would think you had dabbled your feet in the
+      Flood!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm most ten,&rdquo; said Hannibal, with dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can well believe it,&rdquo; responded the judge. &ldquo;And with this weight of
+      years, where did you come from and how did you get here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From across the mountains.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir. Mr. Yancy fetched me&mdash;part way.&rdquo; The boy's voice broke when
+      he spoke his Uncle Bob's name, and his eyes swam with tears, but the judge
+      did not notice this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And where are you going?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To West Tennessee.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you any friends there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've money enough to see you through?&rdquo; and what the judge intended for
+      a smile of fatherly affection became a leer of infinite cunning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got ten dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ten dollars&mdash;&rdquo; the judge smacked his lips once. &ldquo;Ten dollars&rdquo; he
+      repeated, and smacked his lips twice. There was a brief silence, in which
+      he seemed to give way to pleasant reveries.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From beyond the open door of the shanty came a multitude of night sounds.
+      The moon had risen, and what had been a dusty country road was now a
+      streak of silver in the hot light. The purple flush on the judge's face,
+      where the dignity that belonged to age had gone down in wreck, deepened.
+      The sparse, white frost above his ears was damp with sweat. He removed his
+      stock, opened his shirt at the neck, and cast aside his coat; then he
+      lighted a blackened pipe, filled his glass, and sank back in his chair.
+      The long hours of darkness were all before him, and his senses clothed
+      themselves in rich content. Once more his glance rested on the boy. Here,
+      indeed, was a guest of whom one might make much and not err&mdash;he felt
+      all the benevolence of his nature flow toward him. Ten dollars!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly the tavern would have been no place for you! Well, thank God,
+      it wasn't necessary for you to go there. You are more than welcome here. I
+      tell you, when you know this place as I know it, you'll regard every
+      living soul here with suspicion. Keep 'em at arm's length!&rdquo; he sank his
+      voice to an impressive whisper. &ldquo;In particular, I warn you against a
+      certain Solomon Mahaffy. You'll see much of him; I haven't known how to
+      rebuff the fellow without being rude&mdash;he sticks to me like my shadow.
+      He's profited by my charity and he admires my conversation and affects my
+      society, but don't tell him you have so much as a rusty copper, for he
+      will neither rest nor eat nor sleep until he's plucked you&mdash;tell him
+      nothing&mdash;leave him to me. I keep him&mdash;there&mdash;&rdquo; the judge
+      extended his fat hands, &ldquo;at arm's length. I say to him metaphorically
+      speaking&mdash;'so close, but no closer. I'll visit you when sick, I'll
+      pray with you when dying, I'll chat with you, I'll eat with you, I'll
+      smoke with you, and if need be, I'll drink with you&mdash;but be your
+      intimate? Never! Why? Because be's a damned Yankee! These are the
+      inextinguishable feelings of a gentleman. I am aware they are out of place
+      in this age, but what's bred in the bone will show in the flesh. Who says
+      it won't, is no gentleman himself and a liar as well! My place in the
+      world was determined two or three hundred years ago, and my ancestors spat
+      on such cattle as Mahaffy and they were flattered by the attention!&rdquo; The
+      judge, powerfully excited by his denunciation of the unfortunate Mahaffy,
+      quitted his chair and, lurching somewhat as he did so, began to pace the
+      floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take me for your example, boy! You may be poor, you may possibly be
+      hungry you'll often be thirsty, but through it all you will remain that
+      splendid thing&mdash;a gentleman! Lands, niggers, riches, luxury, I've had
+      'em all; I've sucked the good of 'em; they've colored my blood, they've
+      gone into the fiber of my brain and body. Perhaps you'll contend that the
+      old order is overthrown, that family has gone to the devil? You are right,
+      and there's the pity of it! Where are the great names? A race of upstarts
+      has taken their place&mdash;sons of nobody&mdash;nephews of nobody&mdash;cousins
+      of nobody&mdash;I observe only deterioration in the trend of modern life.
+      The social fabric is tottering&mdash;I can see it totter&mdash;&rdquo; and he
+      tottered himself as he said this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy had watched him out of wide eyes, as ponderous and unwieldy he
+      shuffled back and forth in the dim candlelight; now shaking his head and
+      muttering, the judge dropped into his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm an old man-the spectacle won't long offend me. I'll die
+      presently. The Bench and Bar will review my services to the country, the
+      militia will fire a few volleys at my graveside, here and there a flag
+      will be at half-mast, and that will be the end&mdash;&rdquo; He was so
+      profoundly moved by the thought that he could not go on. His voice broke,
+      and he buried his face in his arms. A sympathetic moisture had gathered in
+      the child's eyes. He understood only a small part of what his host was
+      saying, but realized that it had to do with death, and he had his own
+      terrible acquaintance with death. He slipped from his chair and stole to
+      the judge's side, and that gentleman felt a cool hand rest lightly on his
+      arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; he said, glancing up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm mighty sorry you're going to die,&rdquo; said the boy softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless you, Hannibal!&rdquo; cried the judge, looking wonderfully cheerful,
+      despite his recent bitterness of spirit. &ldquo;I'm not experiencing any of the
+      pangs of mortality now. My dissolution ain't a matter of to-night or
+      to-morrow&mdash;there's some life in Slocum Price yet, for all the rough
+      usage, eh? I've had my fun&mdash;I could tell you a thing or two about
+      that, if you had hair on your chin!&rdquo; and the selfish lines of his face
+      twisted themselves into an exceedingly knowing grin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talked like you thought you were going to die right off,&rdquo; said
+      Hannibal gravely, as he resumed his chair. The judge was touched. It had
+      been more years than he cared to remember since he had launched a decent
+      emotion in the breast of any human being. For a moment he was silent,
+      struck with a sense of shame; then he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are sure you are not running away, Hannibal? I hope you know that
+      boys should always tell the truth&mdash;that hell has its own especial
+      terrors for the boy who lies? Now, if I thought the worst of you, I might
+      esteem it my duty to investigate your story.&rdquo; The judge laid a fat
+      forefinger against the side of his nose, and regarded him with drunken
+      gravity. Hannibal shook with terror. This was what he had feared. &ldquo;That's
+      one aspect of the case. Now, on the other hand, I might draw up a legal
+      instrument which could not fail to be of use to you on your travois, and
+      would stop all questions. As for my fee, it would be trifling, when
+      compared with the benefits I can see accruing to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I ain't running away. I ain't got no one to run away from,&rdquo; said the
+      boy chokingly. He was showing signs of fatigue. His head drooped and he
+      met the judge's glance with tired, sleepy eyes. The latter looked at him
+      and then said suddenly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think you'd better go to bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I had,&rdquo; agreed Hannibal, slipping from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, take my bed back of the quilt. You'll find a hoe there. You can dig
+      up the dirt under the shuck tick with it&mdash;which helps astonishingly.
+      What would the world say if it could know that judge Slocum Price makes
+      his bed with a hoe! There's Spartan hardihood!&rdquo; but the boy, not knowing
+      what was meant by Spartan hardihood, remained silent. &ldquo;Nearing threescore
+      years and ten, the allotted span as set down by the Psalmist&mdash;once
+      man of fashion, soldier, statesman and lawgiver&mdash;and makes his bed
+      with a hoe! What a history!&rdquo; muttered the judge with weary melancholy, as
+      one groping hand found the jug while the other found the glass. There was
+      a pause, while he profited by this fortunate chance. &ldquo;Well, take the bed,&rdquo;
+       he resumed hospitably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can sleep most anywhere. I ain't no ways particular,&rdquo; said Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say, take the bed!&rdquo; commanded the judge sternly. And Hannibal quickly
+      retired behind the quilt. &ldquo;Do you find it comfortable?&rdquo; the judge asked,
+      when the rustling of the shuck tick informed him that the child had lain
+      down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; said the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you said your prayers?&rdquo; inquired the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir. I ain't said 'em yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, say them now. Religion is as becoming in the young as it is
+      respectable in the aged. I'll not disturb you to-night, for it is God's
+      will that I should stay up and get very drunk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X. BOON COMPANIONS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Some time later the judge was aware of a step on the path beyond his door,
+      and glancing up, saw the tall figure of a man pause on his threshold. A
+      whispered curse slipped from between his lips. Aloud he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that you, Mr. Mahaffy?&rdquo; He got no reply, but the tall figure,
+      propelled by very long legs, stalked into the shanty and a pair of keen,
+      restless eyes deeply set under a high, bald head were bent curiously upon
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I take it I'm intruding,&rdquo; the new-comer said sourly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why should you think that, Solomon Mahaffy? When has my door been closed
+      on you?&rdquo; the judge asked, but there was a guilty deepening of the flush on
+      his face. Mr. Mahaffy glanced at the jug, at the half-emptied glass within
+      convenient reach of the judge's hand, lastly at the judge himself, on
+      whose flame-colored visage his eyes rested longest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've heard said there was honor among thieves,&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know of no one better fitted to offer an opinion on so delicate a point
+      than just yourself, Mahaffy,&rdquo; said the judge, with a thick little ripple
+      of laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Solomon Mahaffy's long face did not relax in its set expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I saw your light,&rdquo; he explained, &ldquo;but you seem to be raising first-rate
+      hell all by yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, be reasonable, Solomon. You'd gone down to the steamboat landing,&rdquo;
+       said the judge plaintively. By way of answer, Mahaffy shot him a
+      contemptuous glance. &ldquo;Take a chair&mdash;do, Solomon!&rdquo; entreated the
+      judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't force my society on any man, Mr. Price,&rdquo; said Mahaffy, with
+      austere hostility of tone. The judge winced at the &ldquo;Mr.&rdquo; That registered
+      the extreme of Mahaffy's disfavor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You feel bitter about this, Solomon?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; said Mahaffy, in a tone of utter finality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll feel better with three fingers of this trickling through your
+      system,&rdquo; observed the judge, pushing a glass toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When did I ever sneak a jug into my shanty?&rdquo; asked Mahaffy sternly,
+      evidently conscious of entire rectitude in this matter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I deplore your choice of words, Solomon,&rdquo; said the judge. &ldquo;You know damn
+      well that if you'd been here I couldn't have got past your place with that
+      jug! But let's deal with conditions. Here's the jug, with some liquor left
+      in it&mdash;here's a glass. Now what more do you want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have I ever been caught like this?&rdquo; demanded Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you've invariably manifested the honorable disabilities of a
+      gentleman. But don't set it all down to virtue. Maybe you haven't had the
+      opportunity, maybe the temptation never came and found you weak and
+      thirsty. Put away your sinful pride, Solomon&mdash;a sot like you has no
+      business with the little niceties of selfrespect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I drink alone?&rdquo; insisted Mahaffy doggedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never give you the chance,&rdquo; retorted his friend. Mr. Mahaffy drew near
+      the table. &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; urged the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope you feel mean?&rdquo; said Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it's any satisfaction to you, I do,&rdquo; admitted the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ought to.&rdquo; Mahaffy drew forward a chair. The judge filled his glass.
+      But Mr. Mahaffy's lean face, with its long jaws and high cheek-bones, over
+      which the sallow skin was tightly drawn, did not relax in its forbidding
+      expression, even when he had tossed off his first glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love to see you in a perfectly natural attitude like that, Solomon,
+      with your arm crooked. What's the news from the landing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy brought his fist down on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I heard the boat churning away round back of the bend, then I saw the
+      lights, and she tied up and they tossed off the freight. Then she churned
+      away again and her lights got back of the trees on the bank. There was the
+      lap of waves on the shore, and I was left with the half-dozen miserable
+      loafers who'd crawled out to see the boat come in. That's the news six
+      days a week!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      By the river had come the judge, tentatively hopeful, but at heart
+      expecting nothing, therefore immune to disappointment and equipped for
+      failure. By the river had come Mr. Mahaffy, as unfit as the judge himself,
+      and for the same reason, but sour and bitter with the world, believing
+      always in the possibility of some miracle of regeneration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pleasantville's weekly paper, The Genius of Liberty, had dwelt at length
+      upon those distinguished services judge Slocum Price had rendered the
+      nation in war and peace, the judge having graciously furnished an array of
+      facts otherwise difficult of access. That he was drunk at the time had but
+      added to the splendor of the narrative. He had placed his ripe wisdom, the
+      talents he had so assiduously cultivated, at the services of his fellow
+      citizens. He was prepared to represent them in any or all the courts. But
+      he had remained undisturbed in his condition of preparedness; that erudite
+      brain was unconcerned with any problem beyond financing his thirst at the
+      tavern, where presently ingenuity, though it expressed itself with a
+      silver tongue, failed him, and he realized that the river's spent floods
+      had left him stranded with those other odds and ends of worthless drift
+      that cumbered its sun-scorched mud banks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Something of all this passed through his mind as he sat there sodden and
+      dreamy, with the one fierce need of his nature quieted for the moment. He
+      had been stranded before, many times, in those long years during which he
+      had moved steadily toward a diminishing heritage; indeed, nothing that was
+      evil could contain the shock of a new experience. He had fought and lost
+      all his battles&mdash;bitter struggles to think of even now, after the
+      lapse of years, and the little he had to tell of himself was an intricate
+      mingling of truth and falsehood, grotesque exaggeration, purposeless
+      mendacity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He and Mahaffy had met exactly one month before, on the deck of the
+      steamer from which they had been put ashore at the river landing two miles
+      from Pleasantville. Mahaffy's historic era had begun just there.
+      Apparently he had no past of which he could be brought to speak. He
+      admitted having been born in Boston some sixty years before, and was a
+      printer by trade; further than this, he had not revealed himself, drunk or
+      sober.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the judge's elbow Mr. Mahaffy changed his position with nervous
+      suddenness. Then he folded his long arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You asked if there was any news, Price; while we were waiting for the
+      boat a raft tied up to the bank; the fellow aboard of it had a man he'd
+      fished up out of the river, a man who'd been pretty well cut to pieces.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was he?&rdquo; asked the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nobody knew, and he wasn't conscious. I shouldn't be surprised if he
+      never opens his lips again. When the doctor had looked to his cuts, the
+      fellow on the raft cast off and went on down the Elk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It occurred to the judge that he himself had news to impart. He must
+      account for the boy's presence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;While you've been taking your whiff of life down at the steamboat
+      landing, Mahaffy, I've been experiencing a most extraordinary
+      coincidence.&rdquo; The judge paused. By a sullen glare in his deep-sunk eyes
+      Mr. Mahaffy seemed to bid him go on. &ldquo;Back east&mdash;&rdquo; the judge jerked
+      his thumb with an indefinite gesture &ldquo;back east at my ancestral home&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Mahaffy snorted harshly. &ldquo;You don't believe I had an ancestral home?&mdash;well,
+      I had! It was of brick, sir, with eight Corinthian columns across the
+      front, having a spacious paneled hall sixty feet long. I had the
+      distinguished honor to entertain General Andrew Jackson there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you get those dimensions out of the jug?&rdquo; inquiry Mahaffy, with a
+      frightful bark that was intended for a sarcastic laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, it is not in your province to judge me by my present degraded
+      associates. Near the house I have described&mdash;my father's and his
+      father's before him, and mine now&mdash;but for the unparalleled
+      misfortunes which have pursued me&mdash;lived a family by the name of
+      Hazard. And when I went to the war of '12&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What were you in that bloody time, a sutler?&rdquo; inquired Mahaffy
+      insultingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir&mdash;a colonel of infantry!&mdash;I say, when I went to the war,
+      one of these Hazards accompanied me as my orderly. His grandson is back of
+      that curtain now&mdash;asleep&mdash;in my bed!&rdquo; Mahaffy put down his
+      glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were like this once before,&rdquo; he said darkly. But at that instant the
+      shuck tick rattled noisily at some movement of the sleeping boy. Mahaffy
+      quitted his chair, and crossing the room, drew the quilt aside. A glance
+      sufficed to assure him that in part, at least, the judge spoke the truth.
+      He let the curtain fall into place and resumed his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's an orphan, Solomon; a poor, friendless orphan. Another might have
+      turned him away from his door&mdash;I didn't; I hadn't the heart to. I
+      bespeak your sympathy for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is he?&rdquo; asked Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Haven't I just told you?&rdquo; said the judge reproachfully. Mahaffy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've told me something. Who is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His name is Hannibal Wayne Hazard. Wait until he wakes up and see if it
+      isn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure he isn't kin to you?&rdquo; said Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a drop of my blood flows in the veins of any living creature,&rdquo;
+       declared the judge with melancholy impressiveness. He continued with
+      deepening feeling, &ldquo;All I shall leave to posterity is my fame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speaking of posterity, which isn't present, Mr. Price, I'll say it is
+      embarrassed by the attention,&rdquo; observed Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a long silence between them. Mr. Mahaffy drank, and when he did
+      not drink he bit his under lip and studied the judge. This was always
+      distressing to the latter gentleman. Mahaffy's silence he could never
+      penetrate. What was back of it&mdash;judgment, criticism, disbelief&mdash;what?
+      Or was it the silence of emptiness? Was Mahaffy dumb merely because he
+      could think of nothing to say, or did his silence cloak his feelings-and
+      what were his feelings? Did his meditations outrun his habitually
+      insulting speech as he bit his under lip and glared at him? The judge
+      always felt impelled to talk at such times, while Mahaffy, by that silence
+      of his, seemed to weigh and condemn whatever he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The moon had slipped below the horizon. Pleasantville had long since gone
+      to bed; it was only the judge's window that gave its light to the
+      blackness of the night. There was a hoofbeat on the road. It came nearer
+      and nearer, and presently sounded just beyond the door. Then it ceased,
+      and a voice said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, there!&rdquo; The judge scrambled to his feet, and taking up the candle,
+      stepped, or rather staggered, into the yard. Mahaffy followed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's wanted?&rdquo; asked the judge, as he lurched up to horse and rider,
+      holding his candle aloft. The light showed a tail fellow mounted on a
+      handsome bay horse. It was Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there an inn hereabouts?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll find one down the road a ways,&rdquo; said Mahaffy. The judge said
+      nothing. He was staring up at Murrell with drunken gravity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have either of you gentlemen seen a boy go through here to-day? A boy
+      about ten years old?&rdquo; Murrell glanced from one to the other. Mr. Mahaffy's
+      thin lips twisted themselves into a sarcastic smile. He turned to the
+      judge, who spoke up quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he carry a bundle and rifle?&rdquo; he asked. Murrell gave eager assent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the judge, &ldquo;he stopped here along about four o'clock and
+      asked his way to the nearest river landing.&rdquo; Murrell gathered up his
+      reins, and then that fixed stare of the judge's seemed to arrest his
+      attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll know me again,&rdquo; he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anywhere,&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope that's a satisfaction to you,&rdquo; said Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It ain't&mdash;none whatever,&rdquo; answered the judge promptly. &ldquo;For I don't
+      value you&mdash;I don't value you that much!&rdquo; and he snapped his fingers
+      to illustrate his meaning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. THE ORATOR Or THE DAY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hannibal!&rdquo; the judge's voice and manner were rather stern. &ldquo;Hannibal, a
+      man rode by here last night on a big bay horse. He said he was looking for
+      a boy about ten years old&mdash;a boy with a bundle and rifle.&rdquo; There was
+      an awful pause. Hannibal's heart stood still for a brief instant, then it
+      began to beat with terrific thumps against his ribs. &ldquo;Who was that man,
+      Hannibal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;please, I don't know&mdash;&rdquo; gasped the child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hannibal, who was that man?&rdquo; repeated the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It were Captain Murrell.&rdquo; The judge regarded him with a look of great
+      steadiness. He saw his small face go white, he saw the look of abject
+      terror in his eyes. The judge raised his fist and brought it down with a
+      great crash on the table, so that the breakfast dishes leaped and rattled.
+      &ldquo;We don't know any boy ten years old with a rifle and bundle!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please&mdash;you won't let him take me away, judge I want to stop with
+      you!&rdquo; cried Hannibal. He slipped from his chair, and passing about the
+      table, seized the judge by the hand. The judge was visibly affected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; he roared, with a great oath. &ldquo;He shan't have you&mdash;I'll see him
+      in the farthest corner of hell first! Is he kin to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Took you to raise, did he&mdash;and abused you&mdash;infernal hypocrite!&rdquo;
+       cried the judge with righteous wrath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He tried to get me away from my Uncle Bob. He's been following us since
+      we crossed the mountains.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is your Uncle Bob?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's dead.&rdquo; And the child began to weep bitterly. Much puzzled, the judge
+      regarded him in silence for a moment, then bent and lifted him into his
+      lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, my son&mdash;&rdquo; he said soothingly. &ldquo;Now you tell me when he died,
+      and all about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He were killed. It were only yesterday, and I can't forget him! I don't
+      want to&mdash;but it hurts&mdash;it hurts terrible!&rdquo; Hannibal buried his
+      head in the judge's shoulder and sobbed aloud. Presently his small hands
+      stole about the judge's neck, and that gentleman experienced a strange
+      thrill of pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me how he died, Hannibal,&rdquo; he urged gently. In a voice broken by
+      sobs the child began the story of their flight, a confused narrative,
+      which the judge followed with many a puzzled shake of the head. But as he
+      reached his climax&mdash;that cry he had heard at the tavern, the men in
+      the lane with their burden&mdash;he became more and more coherent and his
+      ideas clothed themselves in words of dreadful simplicity and directness.
+      The judge shuddered. &ldquo;Can such things be?&rdquo; he murmured at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You won't let him take me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never unsay my words,&rdquo; said the judge grandly. &ldquo;With God's help I'll be
+      the instrument for their destruction.&rdquo; He frowned with a preternatural
+      severity. Eh&mdash;if he could turn a trick like that, it would pull him
+      up! There would be no more jeers and laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What credit and standing it would give him! His thoughts slipped along
+      this fresh channel. What a prosecution he would conduct&mdash;what a
+      whirlwind of eloquence he would loose! He began to breathe hard. His name
+      should go from end to end of the state! No man could be great without
+      opportunity&mdash;for years he had known this&mdash;but here was
+      opportunity at last! Then he remembered what Mahaffy had told him of the
+      man on the raft. This Slosson's tavern was probably on the upper waters of
+      the Elk. Yancy had been thrown in the river and had been picked up in a
+      dying condition. &ldquo;Hannibal,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;Solomon Mahaffy, who was here last
+      night, told me he saw down at the river landing, a man who had been fished
+      up out of the Elk&mdash;a man who had been roughly handled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were it my Uncle Bob?&rdquo; cried Hannibal, lifting a swollen face to his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear lad, I don't know,&rdquo; said the judge sympathetically. &ldquo;Some people on
+      a raft had picked him up out of the river. He was unconscious and no one
+      knew him. He was apparently a stranger in these parts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It were Uncle Bob! It were Uncle Bob&mdash;I know it were my Uncle Bob! I
+      must go find him!&rdquo; and Hannibal slipped from the judge's lap and ran for
+      his rifle and bundle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop a bit!&rdquo; cried the judge. &ldquo;He was taken on past here, and he was
+      badly injured. Now, if it was your Uncle Bob, he'll come back the moment
+      he is able to travel. Meantime, you must remain under my protection while
+      we investigate this man Slosson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But alas&mdash;that thoroughfare which is supposed to be paved exclusively
+      with good resolutions, had benefited greatly by Slocum Price's labors in
+      the past, and he was destined to toil still in its up-keep. He borrowed
+      the child's money and spent it, and if any sense of shame smote his torpid
+      conscience, he hid it manfully. Not so Mr. Mahaffy; for while he profited
+      by his friend's act, he told that gentleman just what he thought of him
+      with insulting candor. On the eighth day there was sobriety for the pair.
+      Deep gloom visited Mr. Mahaffy, and the judge was a prey to melancholy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Saturday, and in Pleasantville a jail-raising was in progress.
+      During all the years of its corporate dignity the village had never
+      boasted any building where the evil-doer could be placed under restraint;
+      hence had arisen its peculiar habit of dealing with crime; but a leading
+      citizen had donated half an acre of ground lying midway between the town
+      and the river landing as a site for the proposed structure, and the
+      scattered population of the region had assembled for the raising. Nor was
+      Pleasantville unprepared to make immediate use of the jail, since the
+      sheriff had in custody a free negro who had knifed another free negro and
+      was awaiting trial at the next term of court.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We don't want to get there too early,&rdquo; explained the judge, as they
+      quitted the cabin. &ldquo;We want to miss the work, but be on hand for the
+      celebration.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose we may confidently look to you to favor us with a few eloquent
+      words?&rdquo; said Mr. Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why not, Solomon?&rdquo; asked the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not, indeed!&rdquo; echoed Mr. Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The opportunity he craved was not denied him. The crowd was like most
+      southwestern crowds of the period, and no sooner did the judge appear than
+      there were clamorous demands for a speech. He cast a glance of triumph at
+      Mahaffy, and nimbly mounted a convenient stump. He extolled the climate of
+      middle Tennessee, the unsurpassed fertility of the soil; he touched on the
+      future that awaited Pleasantville; he apostrophized the jail; this simple
+      structure of logs in the shadow of the primeval woods was significant of
+      their love of justice and order; it was a suitable place for the detention
+      of a citizen of a great republic; it was no mediaeval dungeon, but a
+      forest-embowered retreat where, barring mosquitoes and malaria, the party
+      under restraint would be put to no needless hardship; he would have the
+      occasional companionship of the gentlemanly sheriff; his friends, with
+      such wise and proper restrictions as the law saw fit to impose, could come
+      and impart the news of the day to him through the chinks of the logs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand you have dealt in a hasty fashion with one or two
+      horse-thieves,&rdquo; he continued. &ldquo;Also with a gambler who was put ashore here
+      from a river packet and subsequently became involved in a dispute with a
+      late citizen of this place touching the number of aces in a pack of cards.
+      It is not for me to criticize! What I may term the spontaneous love of
+      justice is the brightest heritage of a free people. It is this same
+      commendable ability to acquit ourselves of our obligations that is making
+      us the wonder of the world! But don't let us forget the law&mdash;of which
+      it is an axiom, that it is not the severity of punishment, but the
+      certainty of it, that holds the wrong-doer in check! With this safe and
+      commodious asylum the plow line can remain the exclusive aid to
+      agriculture. If a man murders, curb your natural impulse! Give him a fair
+      trial, with eminent counsel!&rdquo; The judge tried not to look self-conscious
+      when he said this. &ldquo;If he is found guilty, I still say, don't lynch him!
+      Why? Because by your hasty act you deny the public the elevating and
+      improving spectacle of a legal execution!&rdquo; When the applause had died out,
+      a lank countryman craning his neck for a sight of the sheriff, bawled out
+      over the heads of the crowd:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's your nigger? We want to put him in here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon he's gone fishin'. I never seen the beat of that nigger to go
+      fishin',&rdquo; said the sheriff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoop! Ain't you goin' to put him in here?&rdquo; yelled the countryman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a mighty lonely spot for a nigger,&rdquo; said the sheriff doubtingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lonely? Well, suppose he ups and lopes out of this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't know that nigger,&rdquo; rejoined the sheriff warmly. &ldquo;He ain't
+      missed a meal since I had him in custody. Just as regular as the clock
+      strikes he's at the back door. Good habits&mdash;why, that darky is a
+      lesson to most white folks!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't care a cuss about that nigger, but what's the use of building a
+      jail if a body ain't goin' to use it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there's some sense in that,&rdquo; agreed the sheriff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's a whole heap of sense in it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suggest&rdquo;&mdash;the speaker was a young lawyer from the next county&mdash;&ldquo;I
+      suggest that a committee be appointed to wait on the nigger at the
+      steamboat landing and acquaint him with the fact that with his assistance
+      we wish completely to furnish the jail.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I protest&mdash;&rdquo; cried the judge. &ldquo;I protest&mdash;&rdquo; he repeated
+      vigorously. &ldquo;Pride of race forbids that I should be a party to the
+      degradation of the best of civilization! Is your jail to be christened to
+      its high office by a nigger? Is this to be the law's apotheosis? No, sir!
+      No nigger is worthy the honor of being the first prisoner here!&rdquo; This was
+      a new and striking idea. The crowd regarded the judge admiringly.
+      Certainly here was a man of refined feeling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's just the way I feel about it,&rdquo; said the sheriff. &ldquo;If I'd athought
+      there was any call for him I wouldn't have let him go fishing, I'd have
+      kept him about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, let the nigger fish&mdash;he has powerful luck. What's he usin',
+      Sheriff; worms or minnies?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Worms,&rdquo; said the sheriff shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently the crowd drifted away in the direction of the tavern. Hannibal
+      meantime had gone down to the river. He haunted its banks as though he
+      expected to see his Uncle Bob appear any moment. The judge and Mahaffy had
+      mingled with the others in the hope of free drinks, but in this hope there
+      lurked the germ of a bitter disappointment. There was plenty of drinking,
+      but they were not invited to join in this pleasing rite, and after a
+      period of great mental anguish Mahaffy parted with the last stray coin in
+      the pocket of his respectable black trousers, and while his flask was
+      being filled the judge indulged in certain winsome gallantries with the
+      fat landlady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;La, Judge Price, how you do run on!&rdquo; she said with a coquettish toss of
+      her curls.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the charm of you, ma'am,&rdquo; said the judge. He leaned across the bar
+      and, sinking his voice to a husky whisper, asked, &ldquo;Would it be perfectly
+      convenient for you to extend me a limited credit?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Judge Price, you know a heap better than to ask me that!&rdquo; she
+      answered, shaking her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No offense, ma'am,&rdquo; said the judge, hiding his disappointment, and with
+      Mahaffy he quitted the bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you marry the old girl? You could drink yourself to death in
+      six months,&rdquo; said Mahaffy. &ldquo;That would be a speculation worth while&mdash;and
+      while you live you could fondle those curls!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe I'll be forced to it yet,&rdquo; responded the judge with gloomy
+      pessimism.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the filling of Mahaffy's flask the important event of the day was
+      past, and both knew it was likely to retain its preeminence for a terrible
+      and indefinite period; a thought that enriched their thirst as it
+      increased their gravity while they were traversing the stretch of dusty
+      road that lay between the cavern and the judge's shanty. When they had
+      settled themselves in their chairs before the door, Mahaffy, who was
+      notably jealous of his privileges, drew the cork from the flask and took
+      the first pull at its contents. The judge counted the swallows as
+      registered by that useful portion of Mahaffy's anatomy known as his Adam's
+      apple. After a breathless interval, Mahaffy detached himself from the
+      flask and civilly passing the cuff of his coat about its neck, handed it
+      over to the judge. In the unbroken silence that succeeded the flask passed
+      swiftly from hand to hand, at length Mahaffy held it up to the light. It
+      was two-thirds empty, and a sigh stole from between his thin lips. The
+      judge reached out a tremulous hand. He was only too familiar with his
+      friend's distressing peculiarities.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not yet!&rdquo; he begged thickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; demanded Mahaffy fiercely. &ldquo;Is it your liquor or mine?&rdquo; He
+      quitted his chair end stalked to the well where he filled the flask with
+      water. Infinitely disgusted, the judge watched the sacrilege. Mahaffy
+      resumed his chair and again the flask went its rounds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It ain't so bad,&rdquo; said the judge after a time, but with a noticeable lack
+      of enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were you in shape to put anything better than water into it, Mr. Price?&rdquo;
+       The judge winced. He always winced at that &ldquo;Mr.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I wouldn't serve myself such a trick as that,&rdquo; he said with
+      decision. &ldquo;When I take liquor, it's one thing; and when I want water, it's
+      another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is, indeed,&rdquo; agreed Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I drink as much clear water as is good for a man of my constitution,&rdquo;
+       said the judge combatively. &ldquo;My talents are wasted here,&rdquo; he resumed,
+      after a little pause. &ldquo;I've brought them the blessings of the law, but
+      what does it signify!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you ever come here?&rdquo; Mahaffy spoke sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I might ask the same question of you, and in the same offensive tone,&rdquo;
+       said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ask, not wishing to take a liberty, were you always the same old
+      pauper you've been since I've known you?&rdquo; inquired Mahaffy. The judge
+      maintained a stony silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The heat deepened in the heart of the afternoon. The sun, a ball of fire,
+      slipped back of the tree-tops. Thick shadows stole across the stretch of
+      dusty road. Off in the distance there was the sound of cowbell. Slowly
+      these came nearer and nearer&mdash;as the golden light slanted, sifting
+      deeper and deeper into the woods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They could see the crowd that came and went about the tavern, they caught
+      the distant echo of its mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Common&mdash;quite common,&rdquo; said the judge with somber melancholy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't see anything common,&rdquo; said Mahaffy sourly. &ldquo;The drinks weren't
+      common by a long sight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I referred to the gathering in its social aspect, Solomon,&rdquo; explained the
+      judge; &ldquo;the illiberal spirit that prevailed, which, I observe, did not
+      escape you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skunks!&rdquo; said Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a man present had the public spirit to set 'em up,&rdquo; lamented the
+      judge. &ldquo;They drank in pairs, and I'd blistered my throat at their damn
+      jail-raising! What sort of a fizzle would it have been if I hadn't been on
+      hand to impart distinction to the occasion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't begrudge 'em their liquor,&rdquo; said Mahaffy with acid dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; interrupted the judge. &ldquo;I hope it's poison to 'em.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will be in the long run, if it's any comfort to you to know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's no comfort, it's not near quick enough,&rdquo; said the judge
+      relentlessly. The sudden noisy clamor of many voices, highpitched and
+      excited, floated out to them under the hot sky. &ldquo;I wonder&mdash;&rdquo; began
+      the judge, and paused as he saw the crowd stream into the road before the
+      tavern. Then a cloud of dust enveloped it, a cloud of dust that came from
+      the trampling of many pairs of feet, and that swept toward them, thick and
+      impenetrable, and no higher than a tall man's head in the lifeless air. &ldquo;I
+      wonder if we missed anything,&rdquo; continued the judge, finishing what he had
+      started to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The score or more of men were quite near, and the judge and Mahaffy made
+      out the tall figure of the sheriff in the lead. And then the crowd, very
+      excited, very dusty, very noisy and very hot, flowed into the judge's
+      front yard. For a brief moment that gentleman fancied Pleasantville had
+      awakened to a fitting sense of its obligation to him and that it was about
+      to make amends for its churlish lack of hospitality. He rose from his
+      chair, and with a splendid florid gesture, swept off his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's the pussy fellow!&rdquo; cried a voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, shut up&mdash;don't you think I know him?&rdquo; retorted the sheriff
+      tartly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen&mdash;&rdquo; began the judge blandly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get the well-rope!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge was rather at loss properly to interpret these varied remarks.
+      He was not long left in doubt. The sheriff stepped to his side and dropped
+      a heavy hand on his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Slocum Price, or whatever your name is, your little game is up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get the well-rope! Oh, hell&mdash;won't some one get the well-rope?&rdquo; The
+      voice rose into a wail of entreaty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge's eyes, rather startled, slid around in their sockets. Clearly
+      something was wrong&mdash;but what&mdash;what?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't he bold?&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear madam, this is an unexpected pleasure!&rdquo; said the judge, with his
+      hand upon his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you make your wicked old sheep's eyes at me, you brazen thing!&rdquo;
+       cried the lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're wanted,&rdquo; said the sheriff grimly, still keeping his hand on the
+      judge's shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For what?&rdquo; demanded the judge thickly. The sheriff had no time in which
+      to answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want my money!&rdquo; shrieked the landlady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your money&mdash;Mrs. Walker, you amaze me!&rdquo; The judge drew himself up
+      haughtily, in genuine astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want my money!&rdquo; repeated Mrs. Walker in even more piercing tones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not aware that I owe you anything, madam. Thank God, I hold your
+      receipted bill of recent date,&rdquo; answered the judge with chilling dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good money&mdash;not this worthless trash!&rdquo; she shook a bill under his
+      nose. The judge recognized it as the one of which he had despoiled
+      Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been catched passing counterfeit,&rdquo; 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. This was something like&mdash;it had a
+      taste for the man-hunt! The sheriff snatched away the rope and dealt the
+      officious gentleman a savage blow on the chin that sent him staggering
+      backward into the arms of his friends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, see here, now&mdash;I'm going to arrest this old faller! I am going
+      to put him in jail, and I ain't going to have no nonsense&mdash;do you
+      hear me?&rdquo; he expostulated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can explain&mdash;&rdquo; cried the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Make him give me my money!&rdquo; wailed Mrs Walker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jezebel!&rdquo; roared the judge, in a passion of rage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ca'm's the word, or you'll get 'em started!&rdquo; whispered the sheriff. The
+      judge looked fearfully around. At his side stood Mahaffy, a yellow pallor
+      splotching his thin cheeks. He seemed to be holding himself there by an
+      effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak to them, Solomon&mdash;speak to them&mdash;you know how I came by
+      the money! Speak to them&mdash;you know I am innocent!&rdquo; cried the judge,
+      clutching his friend by the arm. Mahaffy opened his thin lips, but the
+      crowd drowned his voice in a roar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's his partner&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's no evidence against him,&rdquo; said the sheriff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A tall fellow, in a fringed hunting-shirt, shook a long finger under
+      Mahaffy's aquiline nose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You scoot&mdash;that's what&mdash;you make tracks! And if we ever see
+      your ugly face about here again, we'll&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll what?&rdquo; inquired Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll fix you out with feathers that won't molt, that's what!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Mahaffy seemed to hesitate. His lean hands opened and closed, and he
+      met the eyes of the crowd with a bitter, venomous stare. Some one gave him
+      a shove and he staggered forward a step, snapping out a curse. Before he
+      could recover himself the shove was repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lope on out of here!&rdquo; yelled the tall fellow, who had first challenged
+      his right to remain in Pleasantville or its environs. As the crowd fell
+      apart to make way for him, willing hands were extended to give him the
+      needed impetus, and without special volition of his own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy was hurried toward the road. His hat was knocked flat on his head&mdash;he
+      turned with an angry snarl, the very embodiment of hate&mdash;but again he
+      was thrust forward. And then, somehow, his walk became a run and the crowd
+      started after him with delighted whoopings. Once more, and for the last
+      time, he faced about, giving the judge a hopeless, despairing glance. His
+      tormentors were snatching up sods and stones and he had no choice. He
+      turned, his long strides taking him swiftly over the ground, with the air
+      full of missiles at his back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before he had gone a hundred yards he abandoned the road and, turning off
+      across an unfenced field, ran toward the woods and swampy bottom. Twenty
+      men were in chase behind him. The judge was the sheriff's prisoner&mdash;that
+      official had settled that point&mdash;but Mr. Mahaffy was common property,
+      it was his cruel privilege to furnish excitement; his keen rage was almost
+      equal to the fear that urged him on. Then the woods closed about him. His
+      long legs, working tirelessly, carried him over fallen logs and through
+      tall tangled thickets, the voices behind him growing more and more distant
+      as he ran.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. THE FAMILY ON THE RAFT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      That would unquestionably have been the end of Bob Yancy when he was shot
+      out into the muddy waters of the Elk River, had not Mr. Richard Keppel
+      Cavendish, variously known as Long-Legged Dick, and Chills-and-Fever
+      Cavendish, of Lincoln County, in the state of Tennessee, some months
+      previously and after unprecedented mental effort on his part, decided that
+      Lincoln County was no place for him. When he had established this idea
+      firmly in his own mind and in the mind of Polly, his wife, he set about
+      solving the problem of transportation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cavendish's paternal grandparent had drifted down the Holston and
+      Tennessee; and Mr. Cavendish's father, in his son's youth, had poled up
+      the Elk. Mr. Cavendish now determined to float down the Elk to its
+      juncture with the Tennessee, down the Tennessee to the Ohio, and if need
+      be, down the Ohio to the Mississippi, and keep drifting until he found
+      some spot exactly suited to his taste. Temperamentally, he was well
+      adapted to drifting. No conception of vicarious activity could have been
+      more congenial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With this end in view he had toiled through late winter and early spring,
+      building himself a raft on which to transport his few belongings and his
+      numerous family; there were six little Cavendishes, and they ranged in
+      years from four to eleven; there was in addition the baby, who was always
+      enumerated separately. This particular infant Mr. Cavendish said he
+      wouldn't take a million dollars for. He usually added feelingly that he
+      wouldn't give a piece of chalk for another one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      June found him aboard his raft with all his earthly possessions bestowed
+      about him, awaiting the rains and freshets that were to waft him
+      effortless into a newer country where he should have a white man's chance.
+      At last the rains came, and he cast off from the bank at that unsalubrious
+      spot where his father had elected to build his cabin on a strip of level
+      bottom subject to periodic inundation. Wishing fully to profit by the
+      floods and reach the big water without delay, Cavendish ran the raft
+      twenty-four hours at a stretch, sleeping by day while Polly managed the
+      great sweep, only calling him when some dangerous bit of the river was to
+      be navigated. Thus it happened that as Murrell and Slosson were dragging
+      Yancy down the lane, Cavendish was just rounding a bend in the Elk, a
+      quarter of a mile distant. Leaning loosely against the long handle of his
+      sweep, he was watching the lane of bright water that ran between the black
+      shadows cast by the trees on either bank. He was in shirt and trousers,
+      barefoot and bareheaded, and his face, mild and contemplative, wore an
+      expression of dreamy contentment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly its expression changed. He became alert and watchful. He had
+      heard a dull splash. Thinking that some tree had been swept into the
+      flood, he sought to pierce the darkness that lay along the shore. Five or
+      six minutes passed as the raft glided along without sound. He was about to
+      relapse into his former attitude of listless ease when he caught sight of
+      some object in the eddy that swept alongside. Mr. Cavendish promptly
+      detached himself from the handle of the sweep and ran to the edge of the
+      raft.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Lord&mdash;what's that!&rdquo; he gasped, but he already knew it was a
+      face, livid and blood-streaked. Dropping on his knees he reached out a
+      pair of long arms and made a dexterous grab, and his fingers closed on the
+      collar of Yancy's shirt. &ldquo;Neighbor, I certainly have got you!&rdquo; said
+      Cavendish, between his teeth. He drew Yancy close alongside the raft, and,
+      slipping a hand under each arm, pulled him clear of the water. The swift
+      current swept the raft on down the stream. It rode fairly in the center of
+      the lane of light, but no eye had observed its passing. Mr. Cavendish
+      stood erect and stared down at the blood-stained face, then he dropped on
+      his knees again and began a hurried examination of the still figure.
+      &ldquo;There's a little life here&mdash;not much, but some&mdash;you was well
+      worth fishing up!&rdquo; he said approvingly, after a brief interval. &ldquo;Polly!&rdquo;
+       he called, raising his voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This brought Mrs. Cavendish from one of the two cabins that occupied the
+      center of the raft. She was a young woman, still very comely, though of a
+      matronly plumpness. She was in her nightgown, and when she caught sight of
+      Yancy she uttered a shriek and fled back into the shanty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I declare, Dick, you might ha' told a body you wa'n't alone!&rdquo; she said
+      reproachfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her cry had aroused the other denizens of the raft. The tow heads of the
+      six little Cavendishes rose promptly from a long bolster in the smaller of
+      the two shanties, and as promptly six little Cavendishes, each draped in a
+      single non-committal garment, apparently cut by one pattern and not at all
+      according to the wearer's years or length of limb, tumbled forth from
+      their shelter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho', Polly, he's senseless! But you dress and come here quick. Now, you
+      young folks, don't you tetch him!&rdquo; for the six small Cavendishes, excited
+      beyond measure, were crowding and shoving for a nearer sight of Yancy.
+      They began to pelt their father with questions. Who was it? Sho', in the
+      river? Sho', all cut up like that&mdash;who'd cut him? Had he hurt
+      himself? Was he throwed in? When did pop fish him out? Was he dead? Why
+      did he lay like that and not move or speak&mdash;sho'! This and much more
+      was flung at Mr. Cavendish all in one breath, and each eager questioner
+      seized him by the hand, the dangling sleeve of his shirt, or his trousers&mdash;they
+      clutched him from all sides. &ldquo;I never seen such a family!&rdquo; said Mr.
+      Cavendish helplessly. &ldquo;Now, you-all shut up, or I 'low I'll lay into you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Cavendish's appearance created a diversion in his favor. The six
+      rushed on her tumultously. They seized her hands or struggled for a
+      fragment of her skirt to hold while they poured out their tale. Pop had
+      fished up a man&mdash;he'd been throwed in the river! Pop didn't know if
+      he was dead or not&mdash;he was all cut and bloody.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I declare, I've a mind to skin you if you don't keep still! Miss
+      Constance,&rdquo; Polly addressed her eldest child, &ldquo;I'm surprised at you! You
+      might be a heathen savage for all you got on your back&mdash;get into some
+      duds this instant!&rdquo; Cavendish was on his knees again beside Yancy, and
+      Polly, by a determined effort, rid herself of the children. &ldquo;Why, he's a
+      grand-looking man, ain't he?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;La, what a pity!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can feel his heart beat, and he's bleeding some,&rdquo; said Cavendish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see&mdash;just barely flutters, don't it? Henry, go mind the sweep
+      and see we don't get aground! Keppel, you start a fire and warm some
+      water! Connie, you tear up my other petticoat for bandages now, stir
+      around, all of you!&rdquo; And then began a period of breathless activity. They
+      first lifted Yancy into the circle of illumination cast by the fire Keppel
+      had started on the hearth of flat stones before the shanties. Then, with
+      Constance to hold a pan of warm water, Mrs. Cavendish deftly bathed the
+      gaping wound in Yancy's shoulder where Murrell had driven his knife. This
+      she bandaged with strips torn from her petticoat. Next she began on the
+      ragged cut left by Slosson's club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's got a right to be dead!&rdquo; said Cavendish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get the shears, Dick&mdash;I must snip away some of his hair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All this while the four half-naked youngest Cavendishes, very still now,
+      stood about the stone hearth in the chill dawn and watched their mother's
+      surgery with a breathless interest. Only the outcast Henry at the sweep
+      ever and anon lifted his voice between sobs of mingled rage and
+      disappointment, and demanded what was doing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think he is going to die, Polly?&rdquo; whispered Cavendish at length. Their
+      heads, hers very black and glossy, his very blond, were close together as
+      they bent above the injured man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never say a body's going to die until he's dead,&rdquo; said Polly. &ldquo;He's
+      still breathing, and a Christian has got to do what they can. Don't you
+      think you ought to tie up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The freshet's leaving us. I'll run until we hit the big water down by
+      Pleasantville, and then tie up,&rdquo; said Cavendish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon we'd better lift him on to one of the beds&mdash;get his wet
+      clothes off and wrap him up warm,&rdquo; said Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, put him in our bed!&rdquo; cried all the little Cavendishes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Yancy was borne into the smaller of the two shanties, where presently
+      his bandaged head rested on the long communal pillow. Then his wet clothes
+      were hung up to dry along with a portion of the family wash which
+      fluttered on a rope stretched between the two shanties.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The raft had all the appearance of a cabin dooryard. There was, in
+      addition to the two shelters of bark built over a light framework of
+      poles, a pen which housed a highly domestic family of pigs, while half a
+      dozen chickens enjoyed a restricted liberty. With Yancy disposed of, the
+      regular family life was resumed. It was sun-up now. The little
+      Cavendishes, reluctant but overpersuaded, had their faces washed alongside
+      and were dressed by Connie, while Mrs. Cavendish performed the same
+      offices for the baby. Then there was breakfast, from which Mr. Cavendish
+      rose yawning to go to bed, where, before dropping off to sleep, he played
+      with the baby. This left Mrs. Cavendish in full command of her floating
+      dooryard. She smoked a reflective pipe, watching the river between puffs,
+      and occasionally lending a hand at the sweeps. Later the family wash
+      engaged her. It had neither beginning nor end, but serialized itself from
+      day to day. Connie was already proficient at the tubs. It was a knack she
+      was in no danger of losing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Keppel and Henry took turns at the sweeps, while the three smaller
+      children began to manifest a love for the water they had not seemed to
+      possess earlier in the day. They played along the edge of the raft, always
+      in imminent danger of falling in, always being called back, or seized,
+      just in time to prevent a catastrophe. This ceaseless activity on their
+      part earned them much in the way of cuffings, chastisements which Mrs.
+      Cavendish administered with no great spirit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Drat you, why don't you go look at the pore gentleman instead of
+      posterin' a body 'most to death!&rdquo; she demanded at length, and they stole
+      off on tiptoe to stare at Yancy. Presently Richard ran to his mother's
+      side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come quick&mdash;he's mutterin' and mumblin' and moving his head!&rdquo; he
+      cried. It was as the child said. Yancy had roused from his heavy stupor.
+      Words almost inaudible and quite inarticulate were issuing from his lips
+      and there was a restless movement of his head on the pillow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He 'pears powerful distressed about something,&rdquo; said Mrs. Cavendish. &ldquo;I
+      reckon I'd better give him a little stimulant now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While she was gone for the whisky, Connie, who had squatted down beside
+      the bed, touched Yancy's hand which lay open. Instantly his fingers closed
+      about hers and he was silent; the movement of his head ceased abruptly;
+      but when she sought to withdraw her hand he began to murmur again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I declare, what he wants is some one to sit beside him!&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Cavendish, who had returned with the whisky, a few drops of which she
+      managed to force between Yancy's lips. All the rest of that day some one
+      of the children sat beside the wounded man, who was quiet and satisfied
+      just as long as there was a small hand for him to hold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He must be a family man,&rdquo; observed Mr. Cavendish when Polly told him of
+      this. &ldquo;We'll tie up at Pleasantville landing and learn who he is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He had ought to have a doctor to look at them cuts of his,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Cavendish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was late afternoon when the landing was reached. Half a score of men
+      were loafing about the woodyard on shore. Mr. Cavendish made fast to a
+      blasted tree, then he climbed the bank; the men regarding him incuriously
+      as he approached.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Howdy,&rdquo; said Cavendish genially.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Howdy,&rdquo; they answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where might I find the nearest doctor?&rdquo; inquired Cavendish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Within about six foot of you,&rdquo; said one of the group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meaning yourself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meaning myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Briefly Cavendish told the story of Yancy's rescue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Doc, I want you should cast an eye over the way we've dressed his
+      cuts, and I want the rest of you to come and take a look at him and tell
+      who he is and where he belongs,&rdquo; he said in conclusion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll know him if he belongs within forty miles of here in any direction,&rdquo;
+       said the doctor. But he shook his head when his eye rested on Yancy.
+      &ldquo;Never saw him,&rdquo; he said briefly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about them bandages, Doc?&rdquo; demanded Cavendish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I reckon they'll do,&rdquo; replied the doctor indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will he live?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't say. You'll know all about that inside the next forty-eight
+      hours. Better let the rest have a look.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just feel of them bandages&mdash;sho', I got money in my pants!&rdquo; Mr.
+      Cavendish was rapidly losing his temper, yet he controlled himself until
+      each man had taken a look at Yancy; but always with the same result&mdash;a
+      shake of the head. &ldquo;I reckon I can leave him here?&rdquo; Cavendish asked, when
+      the last man had looked and turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave him here&mdash;why?&rdquo; demanded the doctor slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I'm going on, that's why. I'm headed for downstream, and he ain't
+      in any sort of shape to say whether he wants to go or stop,&rdquo; explained
+      Cavendish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You picked him up, didn't you?&rdquo; asked one of the men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly did,&rdquo; said Cavendish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon if you're so anxious for him to stay hereabout, you'd
+      better stop, yourself,&rdquo; said the owner of the woodyard. &ldquo;There ain't a
+      house within two miles of here but mine, and he don't go there!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're a healthy lot, you are!&rdquo; said Cavendish. &ldquo;I wonder your largeness
+      of heart ain't ruptured your wishbones long ago!&rdquo; So saying, he retired to
+      the stern of his raft and leaned against the sweep-handle, apparently lost
+      in thought. His visitors climbed the bank and reestablished themselves on
+      the wood-ranks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently Mr. Cavendish lifted his voice and addressed Polly and the six
+      little Cavendishes at the other end of the raft. He asserted that he was
+      the only well-born man within a radius of perhaps a hundred miles&mdash;he
+      excepted no one. He knew who his father and mother were, and they had been
+      legally married&mdash;he seemed to infer that this was not always the
+      case. Mr. Cavendish glanced toward the shore, then he lifted his voice
+      again, giving it as his opinion that he was the only Christian seen in
+      those parts in the last fifty years. He offered to fight any gentleman who
+      felt disposed to challenge this assertion. He sprang suddenly aloft,
+      knocked his bare heels together and uttered an ear-piercing whoop. He
+      subsided and gazed off into the red eye of the sun which was slipping back
+      of the trees. Presently he spoke again. He offered to lick any gentleman
+      who felt aggrieved by his previous remarks, for fifty cents, for a drink
+      of whisky, for a chew of tobacco, for nothing&mdash;with one hand tied
+      behind him! He sprang aloft, cracked his heels together as before and
+      crowed insultingly; then he subsided into silence. An instant later he
+      appeared stung by the acutest pangs of remorse. In a cringing tone he
+      begged Polly to forgive him for bringing her to such a place. He bewailed
+      that they had risked pollution by allowing any inhabitant of that region
+      to set foot on the raft&mdash;he feared for the innocent minds of their
+      children, and he implored her pardon. Perhaps it was better that they
+      should cast off at once&mdash;unless one of the gentlemen on shore felt
+      himself insulted, in which event he would remain to fight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then as he slowly worked the raft out toward the middle of the stream, he
+      repeated all his former remarks, punctuating them with frequent whoops. He
+      recapitulated the terms on which he could be induced to fight-fifty cents,
+      a drink of liquor, a chew of tobacco, nothing! His shouts became fainter
+      and fainter as the raft was swept down-stream, and finally died away in
+      the distance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. THE JUDGE BREAKS JAIL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The sheriff had brought the judge's supper. He reported that the crowd was
+      dispersing, and that on the whole public sentiment was not particularly
+      hostile; indeed, he went so far as to say there existed a strong
+      undercurrent of satisfaction that the jail should have so speedily
+      justified itself. Moreover, there was a disposition to exalt the judge as
+      having furnished the crowning touch to the day's pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon, sir, they'd have felt obliged to string you up if there wa'n't
+      no jail,&rdquo; continued the sheriff lazily from the open door where he had
+      seated himself. &ldquo;I don't say there ain't them who don't maintain you had
+      ought to be strung up as it is, but people are funny, sir; the majority
+      talk like they might wish to keep you here indefinite. There's no telling
+      when we'll get another prisoner. Tomorrow the blacksmith will fix some
+      iron bars to your window so folks can look in and see you. It will give a
+      heap more air to the place&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unless I do get more air, you will not be troubled long by me!&rdquo; declared
+      the judge in a tone of melancholy conviction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The building was intolerably hot, the advantages of ventilation having
+      been a thing the citizens of Pleasantville had overlooked. But the judge
+      was a reasonable soul; he was disposed to accept his immediate personal
+      discomfort with a fine true philosophy; also, hope was stirring in his
+      heart. Hope was second nature with him, for had he not lived all these
+      years with the odds against him?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do sweat some, don't you? Oh, well, a man can stand a right smart
+      suffering from heat like this and not die. It's the sun that's dangerous,&rdquo;
+       remarked the sheriff consolingly. &ldquo;And you had ought to suffer, sir!
+      that's what folks are sent to jail for,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will kindly bear in mind, sir, that I have been convicted of no
+      crime!&rdquo; retorted the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you hadn't been so blamed particular you might have had company;
+      politest darky you would meet anywhere. Well, sir, I didn't think the boss
+      orator of the day would be the first prisoner&mdash;the joke certainly is
+      on you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never saw such bloody-minded ruffians! Keep them out and keep me in&mdash;all
+      I ask is to vindicate myself in the eyes of the world,&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; began the sheriff severely, &ldquo;ain't it enough to make 'em
+      bloody-minded? Any one of 'em might have taken your money and got stuck.
+      Just to think of that is what hets them up.&rdquo; He regarded the judge with a
+      glance of displeasure. &ldquo;I hate to see a man so durn unreasonable in his
+      p'int of view. And you picked a lady&mdash;a widow-lady&mdash;say, ain't
+      you ashamed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, what's going to happen to me?&rdquo; demanded the judge angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you'll be tried. I reckon the law will deal with you&mdash;that
+      is, if the public remains ca'm. Maybe it will come to the conclusion that
+      it'd prefer a lynching&mdash;people are funny.&rdquo; He seemed to detach
+      himself from the possible current of events.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And, waking and sleeping, I have that before me!&rdquo; cried the judge
+      bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had ought to have thought of that sooner, when you was unloading that
+      money. Why, it ain't even good counterfeit! I wonder a man of your years
+      wa'n't slicker.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you taken steps to find the boy, or Solomon Mahaffy?&rdquo; inquired the
+      judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is my innocence going to be established&mdash;how am I going to clear
+      myself if my witnesses are hounded out of the county?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love to hear you talk, sir. I told 'em at the raising to-day that I
+      considered you one of the most eloquent minds I had ever listened to&mdash;but
+      naturally, sir, you are too smart to be honest. You say you ain't been
+      convicted yet; but you're going to be! There's quite a scramble for places
+      on the jury already. There was pistols drawed up at the tavern by some of
+      our best people, sir, who got het up disputin' who was eligible to serve.&rdquo;
+       The judge groaned. &ldquo;You should be thankful them pistols wasn't drawed on
+      you, sir,&rdquo; said the sheriff amiably. &ldquo;You've got a heap to be grateful
+      about; for we've had one lynching, and we've rid one or two parties on a
+      rail after giving 'em a coat of tar and feathers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge shuddered. The sheriff continued placidly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll take it you'll get all that's coming to you, sir, say about twenty
+      years&mdash;that had ought to let you out easy. Sort of round out your
+      earthly career, and leave something due you t'other side of Jordan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose there is no use in my pointing out to you that I did not know
+      the money was counterfeit, and that I was quite innocent of any intention
+      to defraud Mrs. Walker?&rdquo; said the judge, with a weary, exasperated air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It don't make no difference where you got the money; you know that, for
+      you set up to be some sort of a lawyer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently the sheriff went his way into the dusk of the evening, and night
+      came swiftly to fellowship the judge's fears. A single moonbeam found its
+      way into the place, making a thin rift in the darkness. The judge sat down
+      on the three-legged stool, which, with a shake-down bed, furnished the
+      jail. His loneliness was a great wave of misery that engulfed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, just so my life ain't cut short!&rdquo; he whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had known a varied career, and what he was pleased to call his
+      unparalleled misfortunes had reduced him to all kinds of desperate shifts
+      to live, but never before had the law laid its hands on him. True, there
+      had been times and seasons when he had been grateful for the gloom of the
+      dark ways he trod, for echoes had taken the place of the living voice that
+      had once spoken to his soul; but he could still rest his hand upon his
+      heart and say that the law had always nodded to him to pass on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Where was Solomon Mahaffy, and where Hannibal? He felt that Mahaffy could
+      fend for himself, but he experienced a moment of genuine concern when he
+      thought of the child. In spite of himself, his thoughts returned to him
+      again and again. But surely some one would shelter and care for him!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and work him like a horse, and probably abuse him into the
+      bargain&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then there was a scarcely audible rustle on the margin of the woods, a dry
+      branch snapped loudly. A little pause succeeded in which the judge's heart
+      stood still. Next a stealthy step sounded in the clearing. The judge had
+      an agonized vision of regulators and lynchers. The beat of his pulse
+      quickened. He knew something of the boisterous horseplay of the frontier.
+      The sheriff had spoken of tar and feathers&mdash;very quietly he stood
+      erect and picked up the stool.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven helping me, I'll brain a citizen or two before it comes to that!&rdquo;
+       he told himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The cautious steps continued to approach. Some one paused below the
+      closely shuttered window, and a hand struck the boards sharply. A whisper
+      stole into the jail.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you awake, Price?&rdquo; It was Mahaffy who spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless you, Solomon Mahaffy!&rdquo; cried the judge unsteadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got the boy&mdash;he's with me,&rdquo; said Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless you both!&rdquo; repeated the judge brokenly. &ldquo;Take care of him,
+      Solomon. I feel better now, knowing he's in good hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, Judge&mdash;&rdquo; it was Hannibal
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear lad?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm mighty sorry that ten dollars I loaned you was bad&mdash;but you
+      don't need ever to pay it back!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy gave way to mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind!&rdquo; said the judge indulgently. &ldquo;It performed all the essential
+      functions of a perfectly legal currency. Just suppose we had discovered it
+      was counterfeit before I took it to the tavern&mdash;that would have been
+      a hardship!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It were Captain Murrell gave it to me,&rdquo; explained Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I consecrate myself to his destruction! Judge Slocum Price can not be
+      humiliated with impunity!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should think you would save your wind, Price, until you'd waddled out
+      of danger!&rdquo; Mahaffy spoke, gruffly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you going to get me out of this, Solomon&mdash;for I suppose you
+      are here to break jail for me,&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy inspected the building. He found that the door was secured by two
+      ponderous hasps to which were fitted heavy padlocks, but the solid wooden
+      shutter which closed the square hole in the gable that served as a window
+      was fastened by a hasp and peg. He withdrew the peg, opened the shutter,
+      and the judge's face, wreathed in smiles, appeared at the aperture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The blessed sky and air!&rdquo; he murmured, breathing deep. &ldquo;A week of this
+      would have broken my spirit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you can, Price, you'd better come feet first,&rdquo; suggested Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not sufficiently acrobatic, Solomon&mdash;it's heads or I lose!&rdquo; said the
+      judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He thrust his shoulders into the opening and wriggled outward. Suddenly
+      his forward movement was arrested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was afraid of that!&rdquo; he said, with a rather piteous smile. &ldquo;It's my
+      stomach, Solomon!&rdquo; Mahaffy seized him by the shoulders with lean muscular
+      hands. &ldquo;Pull!&rdquo; cried the judge hoarsely. But Mahaffy's vigorous efforts
+      failed to move him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you're stuck, Price!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get your wind, Solomon,&rdquo; urged the judge, &ldquo;and then, if Hannibal will
+      reach up and work about my middle with his knuckles while you pull, I may
+      get through.&rdquo; But even this expedient failed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you reckon you can get me back? I should not care to spend the night
+      so!&rdquo; said the judge. He was purple and panting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let's try you edgewise!&rdquo; And Mahaffy pushed the judge into the jail
+      again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the judge, after another period of resolute effort on his part
+      and on the part of Mahaffy. &ldquo;Providence has been kind to me in the past,
+      but it's clear she didn't have me in mind when they cut this hole.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Price, I guess all we can do is to go back to town and see if I can
+      get into my cabin&mdash;I've got an old saw there. If I can find it, I can
+      come again to-morrow night and cut away one of the logs, or the cleats of
+      the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In Heaven's name, do that to-night, Solomon!&rdquo; implored the judge. &ldquo;Why
+      procrastinate?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Price, there's a pack of dogs in this neighborhood, and we must have a
+      full night to move in, or they'll pull us down before we've gone ten
+      miles!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge groaned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're right, Solomon; I'd forgotten the dogs,&rdquo; and he groaned again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy closed and fastened the shutter, then he and Hannibal stole across
+      the clearing and entered the woods. The judge flung off his clothes and
+      went to bed, determined to sleep away as many hours as possible. He was
+      only aroused by the arrival of his breakfast, which the sheriff brought
+      about eight o'clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if I was in your boots I couldn't sleep like you!&rdquo; remarked that
+      official admiringly. &ldquo;But I reckon, sir, this ain't the first time the
+      penitentiary has stared you in the face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you reckon wrong,&rdquo; said the judge sententiously, as he hauled on his
+      trousers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No?&mdash;you needn't hurry none. I'll get them dishes when I fetch your
+      dinner,&rdquo; he added, as he took his leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later the blacksmith appeared and fitted three iron bars to the
+      window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon that'll hold you, old feller!&rdquo; he observed pleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was disposed to linger, since he was interested in the mechanical means
+      employed in the making of counterfeit money and thirsted for knowledge at
+      first hand. Also, he had in his possession a one-dollar bill which had
+      come to him in the way of trade and which local experts had declared to be
+      a spurious production. He passed it in between the bars and demanded the
+      judge's opinion of it as though he were the first authority in the land.
+      But he went no wiser than he came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was nearing the noon hour when the judge's solitude was again invaded.
+      He first heard the distant murmur of voices on the road and passed an
+      uneasy and restless ten minutes, with his eye to a crack in the door. He
+      was soothed and reassured, however, when at last he caught sight of the
+      sheriff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, judge, I got company for you,&rdquo; cried the sheriff cheerfully, as he
+      threw open the door. &ldquo;A hoss-thief!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He pushed into the building a man, hatless and coatless, with a pair of
+      pale villainous eyes and a tobacco-stained chin. The judge viewed the
+      new-comer with disfavor. As for the horse-thief, he gave his companion in
+      misery a coldly critical stare, seated himself on the stool, and with
+      quite a fierce air devoted all his energy to mastication. He neither
+      altered his position nor changed his expression until he and the judge
+      were alone, then, catching the judge's eye, he made what seemed a casual
+      movement with his hand, the three fingers raised; but to the judge this
+      clearly was without significance, and the horse-thief manifested no
+      further interest where he was concerned. He did not even condescend to
+      answer the one or two civil remarks the judge addressed to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the long afternoon wore itself away, the judge lived through the many
+      stages of doubt and uncertainty, for suppose anything had happened to
+      Mahaffy! When the sheriff came with his supper he asked him if he had seen
+      or heard of his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judge, I reckon he's lopin' on yet. I never seen a man of his years run
+      as well as he done&mdash;it was inspirin' how he got over the ground!&rdquo;
+       answered the sheriff. Then he attempted conversation with the horse-thief,
+      but was savagely cursed for his pains. &ldquo;Well, I don't envy you your
+      company none, sir,&rdquo; he remarked as he took leave of the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Standing before the window, the judge watched the last vestige of light
+      fade from the sky and the stars appear. Would Mahaffy come? The suspense
+      was intolerable. It was possibly eight o'clock. He could not reasonably
+      expect Mahaffy until nine or half past; to come earlier would be too great
+      a risk. Suddenly out of the silence sounded a long-drawn whistle. Three
+      times it was repeated. The horse-thief leaped to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neighbor, that means me!&rdquo; he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The moon was rising now, and by its light the judge saw a number of
+      horsemen appear on the edge of the woods. They entered the clearing,
+      picking their way among the stumps without haste or confusion. When quite
+      close, five of the band dismounted; the rest continued on about the jail
+      or cantered off toward the road. By this time the judge's teeth were
+      chattering and he was dripping cold sweat at every pore. He prayed
+      earnestly that they might hang the horsethief and spare him. The
+      dismounted men took up a stick of timber that had been cut for the jail
+      and not used.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look out inside, there!&rdquo; cried a voice, and the log was dashed against
+      the door; once&mdash;twice&mdash;it rose and fell on the clapboards, and
+      under those mighty thuds grew up a wide gap through which the moonlight
+      streamed splendidly. The horse-thief stepped between the dangling cleats
+      and vanished. The judge, armed with the stool, stood at bay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What next?&rdquo; a voice asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get dry brush&mdash;these are green logs&mdash;we'll burn this jail!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold on!&rdquo; the judge recognized the horse-thief as the speaker. &ldquo;There's
+      an old party in there! No need to singe him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I tried him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge tossed away the stool. He understood now that these men were
+      neither lynchers nor regulators. With a confident, not to say jaunty step,
+      he emerged from the jail.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your servant, gentlemen!&rdquo; he said, lifting his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Git!&rdquo; said one of the men briefly, and the judge moved nimbly away toward
+      the woods. He had gained its shelter when the jail began to glow redly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now to find Solomon and the boy, and then to put the miles between himself
+      and Pleasantville with all diligence. As he thought this, almost at his
+      elbow Mahaffy and Hannibal rose from behind a fallen log. The Yankee
+      motioned for silence and pointed west.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; breathed the judge. He noted that Mahaffy had a heavy pack, and the
+      boy his long rifle. For a mile or two they moved forward without speech,
+      the boy in the lead; while at his heels strode Mahaffy, with the judge
+      bringing up the rear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you feel, Price?&rdquo; asked Mahaffy at length, over his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like one come into a fortune! Those horse-thieves gave me a fine scare,
+      but did me a good turn.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal kept to the woods by a kind of instinct, and the two men yielded
+      themselves to his guidance; but there was no speech between them. Mahaffy
+      trod in the boy's steps, and the judge, puffing like an overworked engine,
+      came close upon his heels. In this way they continued to advance for an
+      hour or more, then the boy paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on!&rdquo; commanded Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you 'low the judge can stand it?&rdquo; asked Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless you, lad!&rdquo; panted the judge feelingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's got to stand it&mdash;either that, or what do you suppose will
+      happen to us if they start their dogs?&rdquo; said Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon's right&mdash;you are sure we are not going in a circle,
+      Hannibal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I'm sure,&rdquo; said Hannibal. &ldquo;Do you see that star? My Uncle Bob
+      learned me how I was to watch that star when I wanted to keep going
+      straight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was another long interval of silence. Bit by bit the sky became
+      overcast. Vague, fleecy rifts of clouds appeared in the heavens. A wind
+      sprang up, murmuring about them, there came a distant roll of thunder,
+      while along the horizon the lightning rushed in broken, jagged lines of
+      fire. In the east there was a pale flush that showed the black, hurrying
+      clouds the winds had summoned out of space.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The booming thunder, first only the sullen menace of the approaching
+      storm, rolled nearer and nearer, and the fierce light came in blinding
+      sheets of flame. A ceaseless, pauseless murmur sprang up out of the
+      distance, and the trees rocked with a mighty crashing of branches, while
+      here and there a big drop of rain fell. Then the murmur swelled into a
+      roar as the low clouds disgorged themselves. Drenched to the skin on the
+      instant, the two men and the boy stumbled forward through the gray wake of
+      the storm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's come of our trail now?&rdquo; shouted the judge, but the sound of his
+      voice was lost in the rush of the hurrying winds and the roar of the airy
+      cascades that fell about them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An hour passed. There was light under the trees, faint, impalpable without
+      visible cause, but they caught the first sparkle of the rain drops on leaf
+      and branch; they saw the silvery rivulets coursing down the mossy trunks
+      of old trees; last of all through a narrow rift in the clouds, the sun
+      showed them its golden rim, and day broke in the steaming woods. With the
+      sun, with a final rush of the hurrying wind, a final torrent, the storm
+      spent itself, and there was only the drip from bough and leaf, or pearly
+      opalescent points of moisture on the drenched black trunks of maple and
+      oak; a sapphire sky, high arched, remote overhead; and the June day all
+      about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's come of they trail now?&rdquo; cried the judge again. &ldquo;He'll be a good
+      dog that follows it through, these woods!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They had paused on a thickly wooded hillside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We've come eight or ten miles if we have come a rod, Price,&rdquo; said
+      Mahaffy, &ldquo;and I am in favor of lying by for the day. When it comes dark we
+      can go on again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge readily acquiesced in this, and they presently found a dense
+      thicket which they cautiously entered. Reaching the center of the tangled
+      growth, they beat down the briers and bushes, or cut them away with their
+      knives, until they had a little cleared space where they could build a
+      fire. Then from the pack which Mahaffy carried, the rudiments of a simple
+      but filling meal were produced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your parents took no chances when they named you Solomon!&rdquo; said the judge
+      approvingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. BELLE PLAIN
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Tom,&rdquo; said Betty, with a bustling little air of excitement as she
+      rose from the breakfast table that first morning at Belle Plain, &ldquo;I am
+      ready if you are. I want you to show me everything!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you'll notice some changes,&rdquo; remarked Tom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He went from the room and down the hall a step or two in advance of her.
+      On the wide porch Betty paused, breathing deep. The house stood on an
+      eminence; directly before it at the bottom of the slight descent was a
+      small bayou, beyond this the forest stretched away in one unbroken mass to
+      the Mississippi. Here and there, gleaming in the brilliant morning light,
+      some great bend of the river was visible through the trees, while the
+      Arkansas coast, blue and distant, piled up against the far horizon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it you want to see, anyhow, Betty?&rdquo; Tom demanded, turning on her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything&mdash;the place, Tom&mdash;Belle Plain! Oh, isn't it
+      beautiful! I had no idea how lovely it was!&rdquo; cried Betty, as with her eyes
+      still fixed on the distant panorama of woods and water she went down the
+      steps, Tom at her heels&mdash;he bet she'd get sick of it all soon enough,
+      that was one comfort!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Tom! Why does the lawn look like this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like what?&rdquo; inquired Tom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, this&mdash;all weeds and briers, and the paths overgrown?&rdquo; and as
+      Betty surveyed the unkempt waste that had once been a lawn, a little frown
+      fixed itself on her smooth brow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ware rubbed his chin reflectively with the back of his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That sort of thing looked all right, Bet,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but it kept five or
+      six of the best hands out of the fields right at the busiest time of the
+      year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Haven't I slaves enough?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dull color crept into Ware's cheeks. He hated her for that &ldquo;I!&rdquo; So she
+      was going to come that on him, was she? And he'd worked himself like a
+      horse to bring in more land. Why, he'd doubled the acreage in cotton and
+      corn in the last four years! He smothered his sense of hurt and
+      indignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you want to see the crops, Bet? Let me order a team and show you
+      about, you couldn't walk over the place in a week!&rdquo; he urged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl shook her head and moved swiftly down the path that led from
+      terrace to terrace to the margin of the bayou. At the first terrace she
+      paused. All below was a wilderness of tangled vines and brush. She faced
+      Tom rather piteously. What had been lost was more than he could possibly
+      understand. Her father had planned these grounds which he was allowing a
+      riotous second growth to swallow up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's positively squalid!&rdquo; cried Betty, with a little stamp of her foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware glanced about with dull eyes. The air of neglect and decay which was
+      everywhere visible, and which was such a shock to Betty, had not been
+      reached in a season, he was really convinced that the place looked pretty
+      much as it had always looked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll tell you, Betty, I'm busy this morning; you poke about and see what
+      you want done and we'll do it,&rdquo; he said, and made a hasty retreat to his
+      office, a little brick building at the other side of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty returned to the porch and seating herself on the top step with her
+      elbows on her knees and her chin sunk in the palms of her hands, gazed
+      about her miserably enough. She was still seated there when half an hour
+      later Charley Norton galloped up the drive from the highroad. Catching
+      sight of her on the porch he sprang from the saddle, and, throwing his
+      reins to a black boy, hurried to her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Inspecting your domain, Betty?&rdquo; he asked, as he took his place near her
+      on the step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why didn't you tell me, Charley&mdash;or at least prepare me for this?&rdquo;
+       she asked, almost tearfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How was I to know, Betty? I haven't been here since you went away, dear&mdash;what
+      was there to bring me? Old Tom would make a cow pasture out of the Garden
+      of Eden, wouldn't he&mdash;a beautiful, practical, sordid soul he is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What am I going to do, Charley?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep after him until you get what you want, it's the only way to manage
+      Tom that I know of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's horrid to have to assert one's self!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll have to with Tom&mdash;you must, Betty&mdash;he won't understand
+      anything else.&rdquo; Then he added: &ldquo;Let's look around and see what's needed, a
+      season or two of care will remedy the most of this neglect. Just make Tom
+      put a lot of hands in here with brush-hooks and axes and soon you'll not
+      know the place!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Norton spent the day at Belle Plain; and though he was there on his good
+      behavior as the result of an agreement they had reached on board The
+      Naiad, he proposed twice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My intentions are all right, Betty,&rdquo; he assured her in extenuation. &ldquo;But
+      I've the worst memory imaginable. Oh, yes, the lower terrace is badly
+      gullied, but it's no great matter, it can be fixed with a little work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was soon plain to Betty that Tom's ideals, if he possessed any, had not
+      led him in the direction of what he termed display. His social impulse had
+      suffered atrophy. The house was utterly disorganized; there was a dearth
+      of suitable servants. Those she had known were gone&mdash;sold, she
+      learned. Tom explained that there had been no need for them since he had
+      lived pretty much in his office, what had been the use in keeping darkies
+      standing about doing nothing? He had got rid of those show niggers and put
+      their price in husky field hands, who could be made to do a day's work and
+      not feel they were abused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Tom was mistaken in his supposition that Betty would soon tire of
+      Belle Plain. She demanded men, and teams, and began on the lawns. This
+      interested and fascinated her. She was out at sun-up to direct her
+      laborers. She had the advantage of Charley Norton's presence and advice
+      for the greater part of each day in the week, and Sundays he came to look
+      over what had been accomplished, and, as Tom firmly believed, to put that
+      little fool up to fresh nonsense. He could have booted him!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the grounds took shape before her delighted eyes, Betty found leisure
+      to institute a thorough reformation indoors. A number of house servants
+      were rescued from the quarters and she began to instruct them in their new
+      duties.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tom was sick at heart. The little fool would cripple the place. It gave
+      him acute nausea to see the gangs at work about the lawns; it made him
+      sicker to pass through the house. There were five or six women in the
+      kitchen now&mdash;he was damned if he could see what they found to do&mdash;there
+      was a butler and a page. Betty had levied on the stables for one of the
+      best teams to draw the family carriage, which had not been in use since
+      her mother's death; there was a coachman for that, and another little
+      monkey to ride on the rumble and hop down and open gates. This came of
+      sending girls away to school&mdash;they only learned foolishness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And those niggers about the house had to be dressed for their new work;
+      the butler, a cracking plow-hand he was, wore better clothes than he&mdash;Tom&mdash;did.
+      No wonder he was sick;&mdash;and waste! Tom knew all about that when the
+      bills began to come in from Memphis. Why, that pink-faced chit, he always
+      referred to her in his own mind now as a pink-faced chit, was evolving a
+      scheme of life that would cost eight or ten thousand dollars a year to
+      maintain, and she was talking of decorators for the house, either from New
+      Orleans or Philadelphia, and new furniture from top to bottom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tom felt that he was being robbed. Then he realized with a sense of shock
+      that here was a fortune of over half a million in lands and slaves which
+      he had managed and manipulated all these years, but which was not his. It
+      was true that under the terms of his stepmother's will he would inherit it
+      in the event of Betty's death&mdash;well, she looked like dying, a whole
+      lot&mdash;she was as strong as a mule, those soft rounded curves covered
+      plenty of vigorous muscle; Tom hated the very sight of her. A pink-faced
+      chit bubbling over with life and useless energy, a perfect curse she was,
+      with all sorts of extravagant tastes and he was powerless to check her,
+      for, although he was still her guardian, there were certain provisions of
+      the will&mdash;he consulted the copy he kept locked up in his desk in the
+      office&mdash;that permitted her to do pretty much as she pleased with her
+      income. It was a hell of a will! She could spend fifteen or twenty
+      thousand dollars a year if she wanted to and he couldn't prevent it. It
+      was an iniquitous document!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Well, the place could go straight off to the devil, he wouldn't wear out
+      his life economizing for her to waste&mdash;he didn't get a thank-you&mdash;and
+      he knew that nobody took off the land bigger crops than he did, while bale
+      for bale his cotton outsold all other cotton raised in the county&mdash;that
+      was the kind of a manager he was. He wagged his head in self-approval. And
+      what did he get out of it? A lump sum each year with a further lump sum of
+      twenty thousand dollars when she came of age&mdash;soon now&mdash;or
+      married. Tom's eyes bulged from their sockets&mdash;she'd be doing that
+      next, to spite him!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty's sphere of influence rapidly extended itself. She soon began to
+      have her doubts concerning the treatment accorded the slaves, and was not
+      long in discovering that Hicks, the overseer, ran things with a heavy
+      hand. Matters reached a crisis one day when, happening to ride through the
+      quarters, she found him disciplining a refractory black. She turned sick
+      at the sight. Here was a slave actually being whipped by another slave
+      while Hicks stood looking on with his hands in his pockets, and with a
+      brutal satisfied air. When he caught sight of the girl, he sang out,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That'll do; he's had enough, I reckon, to learn him!&rdquo; He added sullenly
+      to Betty, &ldquo;Sorry you seen this, Miss!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How dare you order such a punishment without authority!&rdquo; cried Betty
+      furiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hicks gave her a black scowl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't need no authority to whip a shirker,&rdquo; he said insolently, as he
+      turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop!&rdquo; commanded Betty, her eyes blazing. She strove to keep her voice
+      steady. &ldquo;You shall not remain at Belle Plain another hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hicks said nothing. He knew it would take more than her saying so to get
+      him off the place. Betty turned her horse and galloped back to the house.
+      She felt that she was in no condition to see Tom just at that moment, and
+      dismounting at the door ran up-stairs to her room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime the overseer sought out Ware in his office. His manner of stating
+      his grievance was singular. He began by swearing at his employer. He had
+      been insulted before all the quarter&mdash;his rage fairly choked him, he
+      could not speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tom seized the opportunity to swear back. He wanted to know if he hadn't
+      troubles enough without the overseer's help? If he'd got himself insulted
+      it was his own affair and he could lump it, generally speaking, and get
+      out of that office! But Tom's fury quickly spent itself. He wanted to know
+      what the matter was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sent you off the place, did she; well, you'll have to eat crow. I'll do
+      all I can. I don't know what girls were ever made for anyhow, damned if I
+      do!&rdquo; he added plaintively, as a realization of a stupendous mistake on the
+      part of nature overwhelmed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hicks consented to eat crow only after Mr. Ware had cursed and cajoled him
+      into a better and more forgiving frame of mind. Then Tom hurried off to
+      find Betty and put matters right; a more difficult task than he had
+      reckoned on, for Betty was obdurate and her indignation flared up at
+      mention of the incident; all his powers of argument and persuasion were
+      called into requisition before she would consent to Hicks remaining, and
+      then only on that most uncertain tenure, his good behavior.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now you come up to the house,&rdquo; said Tom, when he had won his point and
+      gone back to Hicks, &ldquo;and get done with it. I reckon you talked when you
+      should have kept your blame familiar mouth shut! Come on, and get it over
+      with, and say you're sorry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Later, after Hicks had made his apology, the two men smoked a friendly
+      pipe and discussed the situation. Tom pointed out that opposition was
+      useless, a losing game, you could get your way by less direct means. She
+      wouldn't stay long at Belle Plain, but while she did remain they must
+      avoid any more crises of the sort through which they had just passed, and
+      presently; she'd be sick of the place. Tom wagged his head. She was sick
+      of it already only she hadn't the sense to know it. It wasn't good enough.
+      Nothing suited-the house&mdash;the grounds&mdash;nothing!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the midst of her activities Betty occasionally found time to think of
+      Bruce Carrington. She was sure she did not wish to see him again! But when
+      three weeks had passed she began to feel incensed that he had not
+      appeared. She thought of him with hot cheeks and a quickening beat of the
+      heart. It was anger. Naturally she was very indignant, as she had every
+      right to be! He was the first man who had dared&mdash;!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then one day when she had decided for ever to banish all memory of him
+      from her mind, and never, under any circumstances, to think of him again,
+      he presented himself at Belle Plain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was in her room just putting the finishing touches to an especially
+      satisfying toilet when her maid tapped on the door and told her there was
+      a gentleman in the parlor who wished to see her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it Mr. Norton?&rdquo; asked Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Miss&mdash;he didn't give no name, Miss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Betty entered the parlor a moment later she saw her caller standing
+      with his back turned toward her as he gazed from one of the windows, but
+      she instantly recognized those broad shoulders, and the fine poise of the
+      shapely head that surmounted them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Carrington&mdash;&rdquo; and Betty stopped short, while her face grew
+      rather pale and then crimsoned. Then she advanced quite boldly and held
+      out a frigid hand, which he took carefully. &ldquo;I didn't know&mdash;so you
+      are alive&mdash;you disappeared so suddenly that night&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I'm alive,&rdquo; he said, and then with a smile. &ldquo;But I fear before you
+      get through with me we'll both wish I were not, Betty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't call me Betty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was that man who met you at New Madrid? He can't have you, whoever he
+      is!&rdquo; His eyes dwelt on her tenderly, and the remembered spell of her fresh
+      youthful beauty deepened itself for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps he doesn't want me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he does. That was plain as day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty surveyed him from under her lashes. What could she do with this man?
+      Nothing affected him. He seemed to have crossed some intangible barrier
+      and to stand closer to her than any other man had ever stood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you still hate me, Betty&mdash;Miss Malroy&mdash;is there anything I
+      can say or do that will make you forgive me?&rdquo; He looked at her penitently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Betty hardened her heart against him and prepared to keep him in
+      place. Remembering that he was still holding her hand, she recovered it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you sit down?&rdquo; she indicated a chair. He seated himself and Betty
+      put a safe distance between them. &ldquo;Are you staying in the neighborhood,
+      Mr. Carrington?&rdquo; she asked, rather unkindly. How did he dare come here
+      when she had forgotten him and her annoyance? And now the sight of him
+      brought back memories of that disagreeable night on that horrid boat&mdash;he
+      had deceived her about that boat, too&mdash;she would never forgive him
+      for that&mdash;she had trusted him and he had clearly shown that he was
+      not to be trusted; and Betty closed her pretty mouth until it was a thin
+      red line and looked away that she might not see his hateful face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I'm not staying in the neighborhood. When I left you, I made up my
+      mind I'd wait at New Madrid until I could come on down here and say I was
+      sorry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it's taken you all this time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington regarded her seriously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I must have come for more time, Betty&mdash;Miss Malroy.&rdquo; In
+      spite of herself, Betty glowed under the caressing humor of his tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really&mdash;you must have chosen poorly then when you selected New
+      Madrid. It couldn't have been a good place for your purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think if I could have made up my mind to stay there long enough, it
+      would have answered,&rdquo; said Carrington. &ldquo;But when a down-river boat tied up
+      'there yesterday it was more than I could stand. You 'see there's danger
+      in a town like New Madrid of getting too sorry. I thought we'd better
+      discuss this point&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mayn't I show you Belle Plain?&rdquo; asked Betty quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Carrington shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't care anything about that,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I didn't come here to see
+      Belle Plain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You certainly are candid,&rdquo; said Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I intend to be honest with you always.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me&mdash;but I don't know that I shall particularly like it. Do you
+      think it was quite fair to select the boat you did, or was your resolution
+      to be always honest formed later?&rdquo; demanded Betty severely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her with great sweetness of expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't advise that boat for speed, only for safety. Betty, doesn't it
+      mean anything to you that I love you? I admit that I wish it had been
+      twice as slow!&rdquo; he added reflectively, as an afterthought. He looked at
+      her steadily, and Betty's dark lashes drooped as the color mounted to her
+      face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't,&rdquo; she said quickly. She rose from her chair, and Carrington
+      followed her example with a lithe movement that bespoke muscles in good
+      training. She led the way through the wide hall and out to the porch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now I am going to show you all over the place,&rdquo; she announced resolutely.
+      She stood on the top step, looking off into the flaming west where the sun
+      rode low in the heavens. &ldquo;Isn't it lovely, Mr. Carrington, isn't it
+      beautiful?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very beautiful!&rdquo; Carrington's glance was fixed on her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you don't care to see Belle Plain,&rdquo; began Betty, rather indignantly.
+      &ldquo;No, I don't, Betty. This is enough for me. I'll come for that some other
+      time if you'll be good enough to let me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you expect to remain in the neighborhood?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've given up the river, and I'm going to get hold of some land&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Land?&rdquo; said Betty, with a rising inflection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, land.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you were a river-man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a river-man no longer. I am going to be a planter now. But I'll tell
+      you why, and all about it some other day.&rdquo; Then he held out his hand.
+      &ldquo;Goodby,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going&mdash;good-by, Mr. Carrington,&rdquo; and Betty's fingers tingled
+      with his masterful clasp long after he had gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington sauntered slowly down the path to the highroad.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She didn't ask me to come back&mdash;an oversight,&rdquo; he told himself
+      cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just beyond the gates he met that same young fellow he had seen at New
+      Madrid. Norton nodded good-naturedly as he passed, and Carrington,
+      glancing back, saw that he turned in at Belle Plain. He shrugged his
+      shoulders, and went on his way not rejoicing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT BOGGS'
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The judge's faith in the reasonableness of mankind having received a
+      staggering blow, there began a somewhat furtive existence for himself, for
+      Solomon Mahaffy, and for the boy. They kept to little frequented byways,
+      and usually it was the early hours of morning, or the cool of late
+      afternoons when they took the road.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The heat of silent middays found them lounging beside shady pools, where
+      the ripple of fretted waters filled the pauses in their talk. It was then
+      that the judge and Mahaffy exchanged views on literature and politics, on
+      religion and politics, on the public debt and politics, on canals and
+      national roads and more politics. They could and did honestly differ at
+      great length and with unflagging energy on these vital topics, especially
+      politics, for they were as far apart mentally as they were close together
+      morally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy, morose and embittered, regarded the life they were living as an
+      unmixed hardship. The judge entered upon it with infinite zest. He
+      displayed astonishing adaptability, while he brought all the resources of
+      a calm and modest knowledge to bear on the vexed problem of procuring
+      sustenance for himself and for his two companions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To an old campaigner like me, nothing could be more delightful than this
+      holiday, coming as it does on the heels of grinding professional
+      activity,&rdquo; he observed to Mahaffy. &ldquo;This is the way our first parents
+      lived&mdash;close to nature, in touch with her gracious beneficence! Sir,
+      this experience is singularly refreshing after twenty years of slaving at
+      the desk. If any man can grasp the possibilities of a likely looking
+      truck-patch at a glance, I am that man, and as for getting around in the
+      dark and keeping the lay of the land&mdash;well, I suppose it's my
+      military training. Jackson always placed the highest value on such data as
+      I furnished him. He leaned on me more than any other man, Solomon&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've heard he stood up pretty straight,&rdquo; said Mahaffy affably. The
+      judge's abandoned conduct distressed him not a little, but his
+      remonstrances had been in vain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I consider that when society subjected me to the indignity of arrest, I
+      was relieved of all responsibility. Injustice must bear its own fruit,&rdquo;
+       the judge had answered him sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His beginnings had been modest enough: a few ears of corn, a few hills of
+      potatoes, and the like, had satisfied him; then one night he appeared in
+      camp with two streaks of scarlet down the side of his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you hurt, Price?&rdquo; demanded Mahaffy, betraying an anxiety of which he
+      was instantly ashamed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me relieve your apprehension, Solomon; it's only a trickle of stewed
+      fruit. I folded a couple of pies and put them in the crown of my hat,&rdquo;
+       explained the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean you've been in somebody's springhouse?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was unlocked, Solomon, This will be a warning to the owner. I consider
+      I have done him a kindness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus launched on a career of plunder, the judge very speedily accumulated
+      a water bucket&mdash;useful when one wished to milk a cow&mdash;an ax from
+      a woodpile, a kettle from a summer kitchen, a tin of soft soap, and an
+      excellent blanket from a wash-line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the boy, Solomon,&rdquo; he said gently, when he caught Mahaffy's steady
+      disapproving glance fixed upon him as he displayed this last trophy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What sort of an example are you setting him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The world is full of examples I'd not recommend, Solomon. One must learn
+      to discriminate. A body can no more follow all the examples than he can
+      follow all the roads, and I submit that the ends of morality can as well
+      be served in showing a child what he should not do as in showing him what
+      he should. Indeed, I don't know but it's the finer educational idea!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thereafter the judge went through the land with an eye out for wash-lines.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm looking for a change of linen for the boy, Solomon,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Let me
+      bring you a garment or two. Eh&mdash;how few men you'll find of my build;
+      those last shirts I got were tight around the armholes and had no more
+      tail than a rabbit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Two nights later Mr. Mahaffy accepted a complete change of under linen,
+      but without visible sign of gratitude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A night later the judge disappeared from camp, and after a prolonged
+      absence returned puffing and panting with three watermelons, which proved
+      to be green, since his activity had been much in advance of the season.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't suppose there is any greater tax on human ingenuity than to carry
+      three watermelons!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;The human structure is ideally adapted
+      to the transportation of two&mdash;it can be done with comfort; but when a
+      body tackles three he finds that nature herself is opposed to the
+      proceeding! Well, I am going back for a bee-gum I saw in a fence corner.
+      Hannibal will enjoy that&mdash;a child is always wanting sweets!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In this fashion they fared gaily across the state, but as they neared the
+      Mississippi the judge began to consider the future. His bright and
+      illuminating intelligence dealt with this problem in all its
+      many-sidedness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish you'd enter one of the learned professions, Solomon&mdash;have you
+      ever thought of medicine?&rdquo; he inquired. Mr. Mahaffy laughed. &ldquo;But why not,
+      Solomon? There is nothing like a degree or a title&mdash;that always
+      stamps a man, gives him standing&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do I know about the human system?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should certainly hope you know as much as the average doctor knows. We
+      could locate in one of these new towns where they have the river on one
+      side and the canal on the other, and where everybody has the ague&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do I know about medicine?&rdquo; inquired Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As much as Aesculapius, no doubt&mdash;even he had to make a beginning.
+      The torch of science wasn't lit in a day&mdash;you must be willing to
+      wait; but you've got a good sick-room manner. Have you ever thought of
+      opening an undertaker's shop? If you couldn't cure them you might bury
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A certain hot afternoon brought them into the shaded main street of a
+      straggling village. Near the door of the principal building, a frame
+      tavern, a man was seated, with his feet on the horse-rack. There was no
+      other sign of human occupancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, sir?&rdquo; said the judge, halting before this solitary
+      individual whom he conjectured to be the 'landlord. The man nodded,
+      thrusting his thumbs into the armholes of his vest. &ldquo;What's the name of
+      this bustling metropolis?&rdquo; continued the judge, cocking his head on one
+      side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he spoke, Bruce Carrington appeared in the tavern door; pausing there,
+      he glanced curiously at the shabby wayfarers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is Raleigh, in Shelby County, Tennessee, one of the states of the
+      Union of which, no doubt, you've heard rumor in your wanderings,&rdquo; said the
+      landlord.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you the voice from the tomb?&rdquo; inquired the judge, in a tone of
+      playful sarcasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington, amused, sauntered toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's one for you, Mr. Pegloe!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am charmed to meet a gentleman whose spirit of appreciation shows his
+      familiarity with a literary allusion,&rdquo; said the judge, bowing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We ain't so dead as we look,&rdquo; said Pegloe. &ldquo;Just you keep on to Boggs'
+      race-track, straight down the road, and you'll find that out&mdash;everybody's
+      there to the hoss-racing and shooting-match. I reckon you've missed the
+      hoss-racing, but you'll be in time for the shooting. Why ain't you there,
+      Mr. Carrington?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm going now, Mr. Pegloe,&rdquo; answered Carrington, as he followed the
+      judge, who, with Mahaffy and the boy, had moved off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better stop at Boggs'!&rdquo; Pegloe called after them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the judge had already formed his decision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Horse-racing and shooting-matches were suggestive of that progressive
+      spirit, the absence of which he had so much lamented at the jail raising
+      at Pleasantville&mdash;Memphis was their objective point, but Boggs'
+      became a side issue of importance. They had gained the edge of the village
+      when Carrington overtook them. He stepped to Hannibal's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, let me carry that long rifle, son!&rdquo; he said. Hannibal looked up
+      into his face, and yielded the piece without a word. Carrington balanced
+      it on his big, muscular palm. &ldquo;I reckon it can shoot&mdash;these old guns
+      are hard to beat!&rdquo; he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's the clostest shooting rifle I ever sighted,&rdquo; said Hannibal
+      promptly. &ldquo;You had ought to see the judge shoot her&mdash;my! he never
+      misses!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The clostest shooting rifle you ever sighted&mdash;eh?&rdquo; he repeated.
+      &ldquo;Why, aren't you afraid of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Hannibal scornfully. &ldquo;But she kicks you some if you don't hold
+      her right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a rusty name-plate on the stock of the old sporting rifle; this
+      had caught Carrington's eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the name here? Oh, Turberville.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge, a step or two in advance, wheeled in his tracks with a
+      startling suddenness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; he faltered, and his face was ashen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, I was reading the name here; it is yours; sir, I suppose?&rdquo; said
+      Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The color crept slowly back into the judge's cheeks, but a tremulous hand
+      stole up to his throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir&mdash;no; my name is Price&mdash;Slocum Price! Turberville&mdash;Turberville&mdash;&rdquo;
+       he muttered thickly, staring stupidly at Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's not a common name; you seem to have heard it before?&rdquo; said the
+      latter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A spasm of pain passed over the judge's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I've heard it. The name is on the rifle, you say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here on the stock, yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge took the gun and examined it in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did you get this rifle, Hannibal?&rdquo; he at length asked brokenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fetched it away from the Barony, sir; Mr. Crenshaw said I might have
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge gave a great start, and a hoarse inarticulate murmur stole from
+      between his twitching lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Barony&mdash;the Barony&mdash;what Barony? The Quintard seat in North
+      Carolina, is that what you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge, as though stunned, stared at Hannibal and stared at the rifle,
+      where the rusted name-plate danced before his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you know of the Barony, Hannibal?&rdquo; the words came slowly from the
+      judge's lips, and his face had gone gray again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I lived at the Barony once, until Uncle Bob took me to Scratch Hill to be
+      with him. It were Mr. Crenshaw said I was to have the old sp'otin' rifle,&rdquo;
+       said Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you lived at the Barony?&rdquo; repeated the judge, and a dull stupid
+      wonder struck through his tone, he passed a shaking hand before his eyes.
+      &ldquo;How long ago&mdash;when?&rdquo; he continued.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know how long it were, but until Uncle Bob carried me away after
+      the old general died.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge slipped a hand under the child's chin and tilted his face back
+      so that he might look into it. For a long moment he studied closely those
+      small features, then with a shake of the head he handed the rifle to
+      Carrington, and without a word strode forward. Carrington had been
+      regarding Hannibal with a quickened interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; he said, as the judge moved off. &ldquo;You're the boy I saw at Scratch
+      Hill!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal gave him a frightened glance, and edged to Mr. Mahaffy's side,
+      but did not answer him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's become of Bob Yancy?&rdquo; Carrington went on. He looked from Mahaffy
+      to the judge; externally neither of these gentlemen was calculated to
+      inspire confidence. Mahaffy, keenly alive to this fact, returned
+      Carrington's glance with a fixed and hostile stare. &ldquo;Come&mdash;&rdquo; said
+      Carrington good-naturedly, &ldquo;you surely remember me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir; I reckon I do&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't you tell me about Mr. Yancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir; I don't know exactly where he is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how did you get here?&rdquo; persisted Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly Mahaffy turned on him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you see he's with us?&rdquo; he said truculently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my dear sir, I certainly intended no offense!&rdquo; rejoined Carrington
+      rather hotly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy was plainly disturbed, the debased currency of his affection was
+      in circulation where Hannibal was concerned, and he eyed the river-man
+      askance. He was prepared to give him the lie should he set up any claim to
+      the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge plodded forward, his shoulders drooped, and his head bowed. For
+      once silence had fixed its seal upon his lips, no inspiring speech fell
+      from them. He had been suddenly swept back into a past he had striven
+      these twenty years and more to forget, and his memories shaped themselves
+      fantastically. Surely if ever a man had quitted the world that knew him,
+      he was that man! He had died and yet he lived&mdash;lived horribly,
+      without soul or heart, the empty shell of a man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A turn in the road brought them within sight of Boggs' racetrack, a wide
+      level meadow. The judge paused irresolutely, and turned his bleared face
+      on his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll stop here, Solomon,&rdquo; he said rather wearily, for the spirit of
+      boast and jest was quite gone out of him. He glanced toward Carrington.
+      &ldquo;Are you a resident of these parts, sir?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've been in Raleigh three days altogether,&rdquo; answered Carrington, falling
+      into step at his side, and they continued on across the meadow in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you observe the decorations of those refreshment booths?&mdash;the
+      tasteful disposition of our national colors, sir?&rdquo; the judge presently
+      inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington smiled; he was able to follow his companion's train of thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were elbowing the crowd now. Here were men from the small clearings
+      in homespun and butternut or fringed hunting-shirts, with their women folk
+      trailing after them. Here, too, in lesser numbers, were the lords of the
+      soil, the men who counted their acres by the thousand and their slaves by
+      the score. There was the flutter of skirts among the moving groups, the
+      nodding of gay parasols that shaded fresh young faces, while occasionally
+      a comfortable family carriage with some planter's wife or daughter rolled
+      silently over the turf; for Boggs' race-track was a famous meeting-place
+      where families that saw one another not above once or twice a year,
+      friends who lived a day's hard drive apart even when summer roads were at
+      their best, came as to a common center.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge's dull eye kindled, the haggard lines that had streaked his face
+      erased themselves. This was life, opulent and full. These swift rolling
+      carriages with their handsome women, these well-dressed men on foot, and
+      splendidly mounted, all did their part toward lifting him out of his
+      gloom. He settled his hat on his head with a rakish slant and his walk
+      became a strut, he courted observation; he would have been grateful for a
+      word, even a jest at his expense.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A cry from Hannibal drew his attention. Turning, he was in time to see the
+      boy bound away. An instant later, to his astonishment, he saw a young girl
+      who was seated with two men in an open carriage, spring to the ground, and
+      dropping to her knees put her arms about the tattered little figure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Hannibal!&rdquo; cried Betty Malroy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Betty! Miss Betty!&rdquo; and Hannibal buried his head on her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it, Hannibal; what is it, dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, only I'm so glad to find you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad to see you, too!&rdquo; said Betty, as she wiped his tears away.
+      &ldquo;When did you get here, dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We got here just to-day, Miss Betty,&rdquo; said Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ware, careless as to dress, with a wiry black beard of a week's growth
+      decorating his chin and giving an unkempt appearance which his expression
+      did not mitigate, it being of the sour and fretful sort; scowled down on
+      the child. He had favored Boggs' with his presence, not because he felt
+      the least interest in horse-racing, but because he had no faith in girls,
+      and especially had he profound mistrust of Betty. She was so much easily
+      portable wealth, a pink-faced chit ready to fall into the arms of the
+      first man who proposed to her. But Charley Norton had not seemed disturbed
+      by the planter's forbidding air. Between those two there existed complete
+      reciprocity of feeling, inasmuch as Tom's presence was as distasteful to
+      Norton as his own presence was distressing to Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is your Uncle Bob, Hannibal?&rdquo; Betty asked, glancing about, and at
+      her question a shadow crossed the child's face and the tears gathered
+      again in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't you seen him, Miss Betty?&rdquo; he whispered. He had been sustained by
+      the belief that when he found her he should find his Uncle Bob, too.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what do you mean, Hannibal&mdash;isn't your Uncle Bob with you?&rdquo;
+       demanded Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He got hurt in a fight, and I got separated from him way back yonder just
+      after we came out of the mountains.&rdquo; He looked up piteously into Betty's
+      face. &ldquo;But you think he'll find me, don't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you poor little thing!&rdquo; cried Betty compassionately, and again she
+      sank on her knees at Hannibal's side, and slipped her arms about him. The
+      child began to cry softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What ragamuffin's this, Betty?&rdquo; growled Ware disgustedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Betty did not seem to hear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you come alone, Hannibal?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma'am; the judge and Mr. Mahaffy, they fetched me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge had drawn nearer as Betty and Hannibal spoke together, but
+      Mahaffy hung back. There were gulfs not to be crossed by him. It was
+      different with the judge; the native magnificence of his mind fitted him
+      for any occasion. He pulled up his stock, and coaxed a half-inch of limp
+      linen down about his wrists, then very splendidly he lifted his napless
+      hat from his shiny bald head and pressing it against his fat chest with
+      much fervor, elegantly inclined himself from the hips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Allow me the honor to present myself, ma'am&mdash;Price is my name&mdash;Judge
+      Slocum Price. May I be permitted to assume that this is the Miss Betty of
+      whom my young protege so often speaks?&rdquo; The judge beamed benevolently, and
+      rested a ponderous hand on the boy's head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tom Ware gave him a glance of undisguised astonishment, while Norton
+      regarded him with an expression of stunned and resolute gravity. Mahaffy
+      seemed to be undergoing a terrible moment of uncertainty. He was divided
+      between two purposes: one was to seize Price by the coat tails and drag
+      him back into the crowd; the other was to kick him, and himself fly that
+      spot. This singular impulse sprang from the fact that he firmly believed
+      his friend's appearance was sufficient to blast the boy's chances in every
+      quarter; nor did he think any better of himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty looked at the judge rather inquiringly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad he has found friends,&rdquo; she said slowly. She wanted to believe
+      that judge Slocum Price was somehow better than he looked, which should
+      have been easy, since it was incredible that he could have been worse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has indeed found friends,&rdquo; said the judge with mellow unction, and
+      swelling visibly. These prosperous appearing people should be of use to
+      him, God willing&mdash;he made a sweeping gesture. &ldquo;I have assumed the
+      responsibility of his future&mdash;he is my care.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Now Betty caught sight of Carrington and bowed. Occupied with Hannibal and
+      the judge, she had been unaware of his presence. Carrington stepped
+      forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you met Mr. Norton, and my brother, Mr. Carrington?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two young men shook hands, and Ware improved the opportunity to
+      inspect the new-comer. But as his glance wandered over him, it took in
+      more than Carrington, for it included the fine figure and swarthy face of
+      Captain Murrell, who, with his eyes fixed on Betty, was thrusting his
+      eager way through the crowd.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell had presented himself at Belle Plain the day before. For upward of
+      a year, Ware had enjoyed great peace of mind as a direct result of his
+      absence from west Tennessee, and when he thought of him at all he had
+      invariably put a period to his meditations with, &ldquo;I hope to hell he
+      catches it wherever he is!&rdquo; It had really seemed a pernicious thing to him
+      that no one had shown sufficient public spirit to knock the captain on the
+      head, and that this had not been done, utterly destroyed his faith in the
+      good intentions of Providence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      More than this, Betty had spoken of the captain in no uncertain terms. He
+      was not to repeat that visit. Tom must make that point clear to him. Tom
+      might entertain him if he liked at his office, but the doors of Belle
+      Plain were closed against Captain Murrell; he was not to set his foot
+      inside of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Murrell approached, the hot color surged into Betty's face. As for
+      Hannibal, he had gone white to the lips, and his small hand clutched hers
+      desperately; he was remembering all the terror of that hot dawn at
+      Slosson's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell, with all his hardihood, realized that a too great confidence had
+      placed him in an awkward position, for Betty turned her back on him and
+      began an animated conversation with Carrington and Charley Norton; only
+      Hannibal and the judge continued to regard him; the boy with a frightened,
+      fascinated stare, the judge with a wide sweet smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hicks, the Belle Plain overseer, pushed his way to Murrell's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, John Murrell, ain't you going to show us a trick or two?&rdquo; he
+      inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell turned quickly with a sense of relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you can spare me your rifle,&rdquo; he said, but his face wore a bleak look.
+      Glancing at Betty, he took up his station with the other contestants,
+      whereupon two or three young planters silently withdrew from the
+      firing-line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you think you've seen about enough, Bet?&rdquo; demanded Tom. &ldquo;You don't
+      care for the shooting, do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the very thing I do care for; I think I'd rather see that than the
+      horse-racing,&rdquo; said Betty perversely. This had been her first appearance
+      in public since her home-coming, and she felt that it had been most
+      satisfactory. She had met everybody she had ever known, and scores of new
+      people; her progress had been quite triumphal in spite of Tom, and in
+      spite of Charley Norton, who was plainly not anxious to share her with any
+      one, his devotion being rather of the monopolizing sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty now seated herself in the carriage, with Hannibal beside her,
+      quietly determined to miss nothing. The judge, feeling that he had come
+      into his own, leaned elegantly against the wheel, and explained the merits
+      of each shot as it was made.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our intruding friend, the Captain, ma'am, is certainly a master with his
+      weapon,&rdquo; he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty was already aware of this. She turned to Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Charley, I can't bear to have him win!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid he will, for anything I can do, Betty,&rdquo; said Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Carrington, can't you shoot?&mdash;do take Hannibal's rifle and beat
+      him,&rdquo; she coaxed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be too sure that I can!&rdquo; said Carrington, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I know you can!&rdquo; urged Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope you gentlemen are not going to let me walk off with the prize?&rdquo;
+       said Murrell, approaching the group about the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Norton, I am told you are clever with the rifle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not shooting to-day,&rdquo; responded Norton haughtily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell stalked back to the line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At forty paces I'd risk it myself, ma'am,&rdquo; said the judge. &ldquo;But at a
+      hundred, offhand like this, I should most certainly fail&mdash;I've burnt
+      too much midnight oil. Eh&mdash;what&mdash;damn the dog, he's scored
+      another center shot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would be hard to beat that&mdash;&rdquo; they heard Murrell say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least it would be quite possible to equal it,&rdquo; said Carrington,
+      advancing with Hannibal's rifle in his hands. It was tossed to his
+      shoulder, and poured out its contents in a bright stream of flame. There
+      was a moment of silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Center shot, ma'am!&rdquo; cried the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll add twenty dollars to the purse!&rdquo; Norton addressed himself to
+      Carrington. &ldquo;And I shall hope, sir, to see it go in to your pocket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our sentiments exactly, ma'am, are they not?&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps you'd like to bet a little of your money?&rdquo; remarked Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm ready to do that too, sir,&rdquo; responded Norton quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five hundred dollars, then, that this gentleman in whose success you take
+      so great an interest, can neither equal nor better my next shot!&rdquo; Murrell
+      had produced a roll of bills as he spoke. Norton colored with
+      embarrassment. Carrington took in the situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait a minute&mdash;&rdquo; he said, and passed his purse to Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cover his money, sir,&rdquo; he added briefly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, my horses have run away with most of my cash,&rdquo; explained
+      Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your shot!&rdquo; said Carrington shortly, to the outlaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell taking careful aim, fired, clipping the center.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as the result was known, Carrington raised his rifle; his bullet,
+      truer than his opponent's, drove out the center. Murrell turned on him
+      with an oath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shoot well, but a board stuck against a tree is no test for a man's
+      nerve,&rdquo; he said insolently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington was charging his piece.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I only know of one other kind of target,&rdquo; he observed coolly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;a living target!&rdquo; cried Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The crowd opened from right to left. Betty's face grew white, and uttering
+      a smothered cry she started to descend from the carriage, but the judge
+      rested his hand on her arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my dear young, lady, our friend is quite able to care for himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington shook the priming into the pan of Hannibal's ancient weapon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am ready for that, too,&rdquo; he said. There was a slow smile on his lips,
+      but his eyes, black and burning, looked the captain through and through.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Another time&mdash;&rdquo; said Murrell, scowling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any time,&rdquo; answered Carrington indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. THE PORTAL OF HOPE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This&mdash;&rdquo; the speaker was judge Price; &ldquo;this is the place for me: They
+      are a warm-hearted people, sir; a prosperous people, and a patriotic
+      people with an unstinted love of country. A people full of rugged virtues
+      engaged in carving a great state out of the indulgent bosom of Nature. I
+      like the size of their whisky glasses; I like the stuff that goes into
+      them; I despise a section that separates its gallons into too many
+      glasses. Show me a community that does that, and I'll show you a community
+      rapidly tending toward a low scale of living. I'd like to hang out my
+      shingle here and practise law.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge and Mr. Mahaffy were camped in the woods between Boggs' and
+      Raleigh. Betty had carried Hannibal off to spend the night at Belle Plain,
+      Carrington had disappeared with Charley Norton; but the judge and Mahaffy
+      had lingered in the meadow until the last refreshment booth struck its
+      colors to the twilight, and they had not lingered in vain. The judge threw
+      himself at full length on the ground, and Mahaffy dropped at his side.
+      About them, in the ruddy glow of their camp-fire, rose the dark wall of
+      the forest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I crave opportunity, Solomon&mdash;the indorsement of my own class. I
+      feel that I shall have it here,&rdquo; resumed the judge pensively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mahaffy was sad in his joy, sober in his incipientent drunkenness. The
+      same handsome treatment which the judge commended, had been as freely
+      tendered him, yet he saw the end of all such hospitality. This was the
+      worm in the bud. The judge, however, was an eager idealist; he still
+      dreamed of Utopia, he still believed in millenniums. Mahaffy didn't and
+      couldn't. Memory was the scarecrow in the garden of his hopes&mdash;you
+      could wear out your welcome anywhere. In the end the world reckoned your
+      cost, and unless you were prepared to make some sort of return for its
+      bounty, the cold shoulder came to be your portion instead of the warm
+      handclasp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hannibal has found friends among people of the first importance. I have
+      made it my business to inquire into their standing, and I find that young
+      lady is heiress to a cool half million. Think of that, Solomon&mdash;think
+      of that! I never saw anything more beautiful than her manifestation of
+      regard for my protege&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you made it your business, Mr. Price, to do your very damnedest to
+      ruin his chances,&rdquo; said Mahaffy, with sudden heat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ruin his chances?&mdash;I, sir? I consider that I helped his chances
+      immeasurably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, then, you helped his chances&mdash;only you didn't, Price!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I to understand, Solomon, that you regard my interest in the boy as
+      harmful?&rdquo; inquired the judge, in a tone of shocked surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I regard it as a calamity,&rdquo; said Mahaffy, with cruel candor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how about you, Solomon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Equally a calamity. Mr. Price, you don't seem able to grasp just what we
+      look like!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The mind's the only measure of the man, Solomon. If anybody can talk to
+      me and be unaware that they are conversing with a gentleman, all I can say
+      is their experience has been as pitiable as their intelligence is meager.
+      But it hurts me when you intimate that I stand in the way of the boy's
+      opportunity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Price, what do you; suppose we look like&mdash;you and I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a general way, Solomon, I am conscious that our appeal is to the brain
+      rather than the eye,&rdquo; answered the judge, with dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon even you couldn't do a much lower trick than use the boy as a
+      stepping-stone,&rdquo; pursued Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't see how you have the heart to charge me with such a purpose&mdash;I
+      don't indeed, Solomon.&rdquo; The judge spoke with deep feeling; he was really
+      hurt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you let the boy have his chance, and don't you stick in your broken
+      oar,&rdquo; cried Mahaffy fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge rolled over on his back, and stared up at the heavens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a new aspect of your versatile nature, Solomon. Must I regard you
+      as a personally emancipated moral influence, not committed to the straight
+      and narrow path yourself, but still close enough to it to keep my feet
+      from straying?&rdquo; he at length demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy having spoken his mind, preserved a stony silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge got up and replenished the camp-fire, which had burnt low, then
+      squatting before it, he peered into the flames.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll not deny, Solomon, that Miss Malroy exhibited a real affection for
+      Hannibal?&rdquo; he began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now don't you try to borrow money of her, Price,&rdquo; said Mahaffy, returning
+      to the attack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon&mdash;Solomon&mdash;how can you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That'll be your next move. Now let her alone; let Hannibal have his luck
+      as it comes to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem to forget, sir, that I still bear the name of gentleman!&rdquo; said
+      the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy gave way to acid merriment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, see that you are not tempted to forget that,&rdquo; he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I didn't know your sterling qualities, Solomon, and pay homage to 'em,
+      I might be tempted to take offense,&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's like pouring water on a duck's back to talk to you, Price; nothing
+      strikes in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary, I am at all times ready to listen to reason from any
+      quarter, but I've studied this matter in its many-sided aspect. I won't
+      say we might not do better in Memphis, but we must consider the boy. No;
+      if I can find a vacant house in Raleigh, I wouldn't ask a finer spot in
+      which to spend the afternoon of my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Afternoon?&rdquo; snapped Mahaffy irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's right&mdash;carp&mdash;! But you can't relegate me! You can't
+      shove me away from the portal of hope&mdash;metaphorically speaking, I'm
+      on the stoop; it may be God's pleasure that I enter; there's a place for
+      gray heads&mdash;and there's a respectable slice of life after the
+      meridian is passed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; said Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've made my impression; I've been thrown with cultivated minds quick to
+      recognize superiority; I've met with deference and consideration.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aren't you forgetting the boy?&rdquo; inquired Mahaffy. &ldquo;No, sir! I regard my
+      obligations where he is concerned as a sacred trust to be administered in
+      a lofty and impersonal manner. If his friends&mdash;if Miss Malroy, for
+      instance&mdash;cares to make me the instrument of her benefactions, I'll
+      not be disposed to stand on my dignity; but his education shall be my
+      care. I'll make such a lawyer of him as America has not seen before! I
+      don't ask you to accept my own opinion of my fitness to do this, but two
+      gentlemen with whom I talked this evening&mdash;one of them was the
+      justice of the peace&mdash;were pleased to say that they had never heard
+      such illuminating comments on the criminal law. I quoted the Greeks and
+      Romans to 'em, sir; I gave 'em the salient points on mediaeval law; and
+      they were dumfounded and speechless. I reckon they'd never heard such an
+      exposition of fundamental principles; I showed 'em the germ and I showed
+      'em fruition. Damn it, sir, they were overwhelmed by the array of facts I
+      marshaled for 'em. They said they'd never met with such erudition&mdash;no
+      more they had, for I boiled down thirty years of study into ten minutes of
+      talk! I flogged 'em with facts, and then we drank&mdash;&rdquo; The judge
+      smacked his lips. &ldquo;It is this free-handed hospitality I like; it's this
+      that gives life its gala aspect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He forgot former experiences; but without this kindly refusal of memory to
+      perform its wonted functions, the world would have been a chill place
+      indeed for Slocum Price. But Mahaffy, keen and anxious, with doubt in
+      every glass he drained, a lurking devil to grin at him above the rim,
+      could see only the end of their brief hour of welcome. This made the
+      present moment as bitter as the last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a theory, Solomon, that I shall be handsomely supported by my new
+      friends. They'll snatch at the opportunity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see 'em snatching, Mr. Price,&rdquo; said Mahaffy grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's right&mdash;go on and plant doubt in my heart if you can! You're
+      as hopeless as the grave side!&rdquo; cried the judge, a spasm of rage shaking
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The thing for us to do&mdash;you and I, Price&mdash;is to clear out of
+      here,&rdquo; said Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what of the boy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave him with his friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you know Miss Malroy would be willing to assume his care? It's
+      scandalous the way you leap at conclusions. No, Solomon, no&mdash;I won't
+      shirk a single irksome responsibility,&rdquo; and the judge's voice shook with
+      suppressed emotion. Mahaffy laughed. &ldquo;There you go again, Solomon, with
+      that indecent mirth of yours! Friendship aside, you grow more offensive
+      every day.&rdquo; The judge paused and then resumed. &ldquo;I understand there's a
+      federal judgeship vacant here. The president&mdash;&rdquo; Mr. Mahaffy gave him
+      a furtive leer. &ldquo;I tell you General Jackson was my friend&mdash;we were
+      brothers, sir&mdash;I stood at his side on the glorious blood-wet field of
+      New Orleans! You don't believe me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Price, you've made more demands on my stock of credulity than any man
+      I've ever known!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge became somber-faced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unparalleled misfortune overtook me&mdash;I stepped aside, but the world
+      never waits; I was a cog discarded from the mechanism of society&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He was so pleased with the metaphor that he repeated it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, Price, you talk as though you were a modern job; what's the
+      matter anyhow?&mdash;have you got boils?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge froze into stony silence. Well, Mahaffy could sneer&mdash;he
+      would show him! This was the last ditch and he proposed to descend into
+      it, it was something to be able to demand the final word of fate&mdash;but
+      he instantly recalled that he had been playing at hide-and-seek with
+      inevitable consequences for something like a quarter of a century; it had
+      been a triumph merely to exist. Mahaffy having eased his conscience,
+      rolled over and promptly went to sleep. Flat on his back, the judge stared
+      up at the wide blue arch of the heavens and rehearsed those promises which
+      in the last twenty years he had made and broken times without number. He
+      planned no sweeping reforms, his system of morality being little more than
+      a series of graceful compromises with himself. He must not get hopelessly
+      in debt; he must not get helplessly drunk. Dealing candidly with his own
+      soul in the silence, he presently came to the belief that this might be
+      done without special hardship. Then suddenly the rusted name-plate on
+      Hannibal's old rifle danced again before his burning eyes, and a bitter
+      sense of hurt and loss struck through him. He saw himself as he was, a
+      shabby outcast, a tavern hanger-on, the utter travesty of all he should
+      have been; he dropped his arm across his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first rift of light in the sky found the judge stirring; it found him
+      in his usual cheerful frame of mind. He disposed of his toilet and
+      breakfast with the greatest expedition.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you stroll into town with me, Solomon?&rdquo; he asked, when they had
+      eaten. Mahaffy shook his head, his air was still plainly hostile. &ldquo;Then
+      let your prayers follow me, for I'm off!&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ten minutes' walk brought him to the door of the city tavern, where he
+      found Mr. Pegloe directing the activities of a small colored boy who was
+      mopping out his bar. To him the judge made known his needs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goin' to locate, are you?&rdquo; said Mr. Pegloe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My friends urge it, sir, and I have taken the matter under
+      consideration,&rdquo; answered the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho, do you know any folks hereabouts?&rdquo; asked Mr. Pegloe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not many,&rdquo; said the judge, with reserve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the only empty house in town is right over yonder; it belongs to
+      young Charley Norton out at Thicket Point Plantation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah-h!&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The house Mr. Pegloe had pointed out was a small frame building; it stood
+      directly on the street, with a narrow porch across the front, and a shed
+      addition at the back. The judge scuttled over to it. With his hands
+      clasped under the tails of his coat he walked twice about the building,
+      stopping to peer in at all the windows, then he paused and took stock of
+      his surroundings. Over the way was Pegloe's City Tavern; farther up the
+      street was the court-house, a square wooden box with a crib that housed a
+      cracked bell, rising from a gable end. The judge's pulse quickened. What a
+      location, and what a fortunate chance that Mr. Norton was the owner of
+      this most desirable tenement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He must see him at once. As he turned away to recross the street and learn
+      from Mr. Pegloe by what road Thicket Point might be reached, Norton
+      himself galloped into the village. Catching sight of the judge, he reined
+      in his horse and swung himself from the saddle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was hoping, sir, I might find you,&rdquo; he said, as they met before the
+      tavern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A wish I should have echoed had I been aware of it!&rdquo; responded the judge.
+      &ldquo;I was about to do myself the honor to wait upon you at your plantation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I have saved you a long walk,&rdquo; said Norton. He surveyed the judge
+      rather dubiously, but listened with great civility and kindness as he
+      explained the business that would have taken him to Thicket Point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The house is quite at your service, sir,&rdquo; he said, at length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The rent&mdash;&rdquo; began the judge. He had great natural delicacy always in
+      mentioning matters of a financial nature.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Norton, with a delicacy equal to his own, entreated him not to
+      mention the rent. The house had come to him as boot in a trade. It had
+      been occupied by a doctor and a lawyer; these gentlemen had each decamped
+      between two days, heavily in debt at the stores and taverns, especially
+      the taverns.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't honestly say they owed me, since I never expected to get anything
+      out of them; however, they both left some furniture, all that was
+      necessary for the kind of housekeeping they did, for they were single
+      gentlemen and drew the bulk of their nourishment from Pegloe's bar. I'll
+      turn the establishment over to you with the greatest pleasure in the
+      world, and wish you better luck than your predecessors had&mdash;you'll
+      offend me if you refer to the rent again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And thus handsomely did Charley Norton acquit himself of the mission he
+      had undertaken at Betty Malroy's request.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That same morning Tom Ware and Captain Murrell were seated in the small
+      detached building at Belle Plain, known as the office, where the former
+      spent most of his time when not in the saddle. Whatever the planter's
+      vices, and he was reputed to possess a fair working knowledge of good and
+      evil, no one had ever charged him with hypocrisy. His emotions lay close
+      to the surface and wrote themselves on his unprepossessing exterior with
+      an impartial touch. He had felt no pleasure when Murrell rode into the
+      yard, and he had welcomed him according to the dictates of his mood, which
+      was one of surly reticence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So your sister doesn't like me, Tom&mdash;that's on your mind this
+      morning, is it?&rdquo; Murrell was saying, as he watched his friend out of the
+      corner of his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was mad enough, the way you pushed in on us at Boggs' yesterday. What
+      happened back in North Carolina, Murrell, anyhow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never you mind what happened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's none of my business, I reckon; she'll have to look out for
+      herself, she's nothing to me but a pest sand a nuisance&mdash;I've been
+      more bothered since she came back than I've been in years! I'd give a good
+      deal to be rid of her,&rdquo; said Ware, greatly depressed as he recalled the
+      extraordinary demands Betty had made.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Make it worth my while and I'll take her off your hands,&rdquo; and Murrell
+      laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tom favored him with a sullen stare.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'd better get rid of that notion&mdash;of all fool nonsense, this love
+      business is the worst! I can't see the slightest damn difference between
+      one good looking girl and another. I wish every one was as sensible as I
+      am,&rdquo; he lamented. &ldquo;I wouldn't miss a meal, or ten minutes' sleep, on
+      account of any woman in creation,&rdquo; and Ware shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So your sister doesn't like me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, she doesn't,&rdquo; said Ware, with simple candor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Told you to put a stop to my coming here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not here&mdash;to the house, yes. She doesn't give a damn, so long as she
+      doesn't have to see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell, somber-faced and thoughtful, examined a crack in the flooring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd like to know what happened back yonder in North Carolina to make her
+      so blazing mad?&rdquo; continued Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you want to know, I told her I loved her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all right, that's the fool talk girls like to hear,&rdquo; said Ware. He
+      lighted a cigar with an air of wearied patience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Open the door, Tom,&rdquo; commanded Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is close in here,&rdquo; agreed the planter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It isn't that, but you smoke the meanest cigars I ever smelt, I always
+      think your shoes are on fire. Tom, do you want to get rid of her? Did you
+      mean that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, shut up,&rdquo; said Tom, dropping his voice to a surly whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a brief silence, during which Murrell studied his friend's face.
+      When he spoke, it was to give the conversation a new direction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she bring the boy here last night? I saw you drive off with him in
+      the carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she makes a regular pet of the little ragamuffin&mdash;it's
+      perfectly sickening!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who were the two men with him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of 'em calls himself judge Price; the other kept out of the way, I
+      didn't hear his name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is the boy going to stay at Belle Plain?&rdquo; inquired Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That notion hasn't struck her yet, for I heard her say at breakfast that
+      she'd take him to Raleigh this afternoon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the boy I traveled all the way to North Carolina to get for
+      Fentress. I thought I had him once, but the little cuss gave me the slip.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh&mdash;you don't say?&rdquo; cried Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tom, what do you know about the Quintard lands; what do you know about
+      Quintard himself?&rdquo; continued Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was a rich planter, lived in North Carolina. My father met him when he
+      was in congress and got him to invest in land here. They had some
+      colonization scheme on foot this was upward of twenty years ago&mdash;but
+      nothing came of it. Quintard lost interest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the land?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he held on to that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there much of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A hundred thousand acres,&rdquo; said Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell whistled softly under his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's it worth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A pot of money, two or three dollars an acre anyhow,&rdquo; answered Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quintard has been dead two years, Tom, and back yonder in North Carolina
+      they told me he left nothing but the home plantation. The boy lived there
+      up to the time of Quintard's death, but what relation he was to the old
+      man no one knew. What do you suppose Fentress wants with him? He offered
+      me five thousand dollars if I'd bring him West; and he still wants him,
+      only he's lying low now to see what comes of the two old sots&mdash;he
+      don't want to move in the dark. Offhand, Tom, I'd say that by getting hold
+      of the boy Fentress expects to get hold of the Quintard land.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's likely,&rdquo; said Ware, then struck by a sudden idea, he added, &ldquo;Are
+      you going to take all the risks and let him pocket the cash? If it's the
+      land he's after, the stake's big enough to divide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He can have the whole thing and welcome, I'm playing for a bigger stake.&rdquo;
+       His friend stared at him in astonishment. &ldquo;I tell you, Tom, I'm bent on
+      getting even with the world! No silver spoon came in the way of my mouth
+      when I was a youngster; my father was too honest&mdash;and I think the
+      less of him for it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ware seemed on the whole edified by the captain's unorthodox point of
+      view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My mother was the true grit though; she came of mountain stock, and
+      taught us children to steal by the time we could think! Whatever we stole,
+      she hid, and dared my father to touch us. I remember the first thing of
+      account was when I was ten years old. A Dutch peddler came to our cabin
+      one winter night and begged us to take him in. Of course, he opened his
+      pack before he left, and almost under his nose I got away with a bolt of
+      linen. The old man and woman fought about it, but if the peddler
+      discovered his loss he had the sense not to come back and tell of it! When
+      I was seventeen I left home with three good horses I'd picked up; they
+      brought me more money than I'd ever seen before and I got my first taste
+      of life&mdash;that was in Nashville where I made some good friends with
+      whose help I soon had as pretty a trade organized in horseflesh as any one
+      could wish.&rdquo; A somber tone had crept into Murrell's voice, while his
+      glance had become restless and uneasy. He went on: &ldquo;I'm licking a
+      speculation into shape that will cause me to be remembered while there's a
+      white man alive in the Mississippi Valley!&rdquo; His wicked black eyes were
+      blazing coals of fire in their deep sockets. &ldquo;Have you heard what the
+      niggers did at Hayti?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My God, John&mdash;no, I won't talk to you&mdash;and don't you think
+      about it! That's wrong&mdash;wrong as hell itself!&rdquo; cried Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's no such thing as right and wrong for me. That'll do for those who
+      have something to lose. I was born with empty hands and I am going to fill
+      them where and how I can. I believe the time has come when the niggers can
+      be of use to me&mdash;look what Turner did back in Virginia three years
+      ago! If he'd had any real purpose he could have laid the country waste,
+      but he hadn't brains enough to engineer a general uprising.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware was probably as remote from any emotion that even vaguely
+      approximated right feeling as any man could well be, but Murrell's words
+      jarred his dull conscience, or his fear, into giving signs of life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you talk of that business, we want nothing of that sort out here.
+      You let the niggers alone!&rdquo; he said, but he could scarcely bring himself
+      to believe that Murrell had spoken in earnest. Yet even if he jested, this
+      was a forbidden subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;White brains will have to think for them, if it's to be more than a flash
+      in the pan,&rdquo; said Murrell unheeding him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You let the niggers alone, don't you tamper with them,&rdquo; said Ware. He
+      possessed a profound belief in Murrell's capacity. He knew how the latter
+      had shaped the uneasy population that foregathered on the edge of
+      civilization to his own ends, and that what he had christened the Clan had
+      become an elaborate organization, disciplined and flexible to his ruthless
+      will.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, what do you think I have been working for&mdash;to steal a few
+      niggers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A few&mdash;you've been sending 'em south by the boatload! You ought to
+      be a rich man, Murrell. If you're not it's your own fault.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That furnishes us with money, but you can push the trade too hard and too
+      far, and we've about done that. The planters are uneasy in the sections
+      we've worked over, there's talk of getting together to clean out everybody
+      who can't give a good account of himself. The Clan's got to deal a counter
+      blow or go out of business. It was so with the horse trade; in the end it
+      became mighty unhandy to move the stock we'd collected. We've reached the
+      same point now with the trade in niggers. Between here and the gulf&mdash;&rdquo;
+       he made a wide sweeping gesture with his arm. &ldquo;I am spotting the country
+      with my men; there are two thousand active workers on the rolls of the
+      Clan, and as many more like you, Tom&mdash;and Fentress&mdash;on whose
+      friendship I can rely.&rdquo; He leaned toward Ware. &ldquo;You'd be slow to tell me I
+      couldn't count on you, Tom, and you'd be slow to think I couldn't manage
+      this thing when the time's ripe for it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But no trace of this all-sufficient sense of confidence, of which he
+      seemed so certain, showed on Ware's hardened visage. He spat away the
+      stump of his cigar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure as God, John Murrell, you are overreaching yourself! Your white men
+      are all right, they've got to stick by you; if they don't they know it's
+      only a question of time until they get a knife driven into their ribs&mdash;but
+      niggers&mdash;there isn't any real fight in a nigger, if there was they
+      wouldn't be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet you couldn't have made the whites in Hayti believe that,&rdquo; said
+      Murrell, with a sinister smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because they were no-account trash themselves!&rdquo; returned Ware, shaking
+      his head. &ldquo;We'll all go down in this muss you're fixing for!&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you won't, Tom. I'll look out for my friends. You'll be warned in
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A hell of a lot of good a warning will do!&rdquo; growled Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The business will be engineered so that you, and those like you, will not
+      be disturbed. Maybe the niggers will have control of the country for a day
+      or two in the thickly settled parts near the towns; longer, of course,
+      where the towns and plantations are scattering. The end will come in the
+      swamps and cane-brakes, and the members of the Clan who don't get rich
+      while the trouble is at its worst, will have to stay poor. As for the
+      niggers, I expect nothing else than that they will be pretty well
+      exterminated. But look what that will do for men like yourself, Tom, who
+      will have been able to hold on to their slaves!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd like to have some guarantee that I'd be able to; do that! No, sir,
+      the devils will all go whooping off to raise hell.&rdquo; Ware shivered at the
+      picture his mind had conjured up. &ldquo;Well, thank God, they're not my
+      niggers!&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'd better come with me, Tom,&rdquo; said Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I'm going to keep New Orleans for myself; that's a plum I'm going to
+      pick with the help of a few friends, and I'd cheerfully hang for it
+      afterward if I could destroy the city Old Hickory saved&mdash;but I expect
+      to quit the country in good time; with a river full of ships I shan't lack
+      for means of escape.&rdquo; His manner was cool and decided. He possessed in an
+      eminent degree the egotism that makes possible great crimes and great
+      criminals, and his degenerate brain dealt with this colossal horror as
+      simply as if it had been a petty theft.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's no use in trying to talk you out of this, John, but I just want
+      to ask you one thing: you do all you say you are going to do, and then
+      where in hell's name will you be safe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll take my chances. What have I been taking all my life but the biggest
+      sort of chances?&mdash;and for little enough!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware, feeling the entire uselessness of argument, uttered a string of
+      imprecations, and then fell silent. His acquaintance with Murrell was of
+      long standing. It dated back to the time when he was growing into the
+      management of Belle Plain. A chance meeting with the outlaw in Memphis had
+      developed into the closest intimacy, and the plantation had become one of
+      the regular stations for the band of horse-thieves of which Murrell had
+      spoken. But time had wrought its changes. Tom was now in full control of
+      Belle Plain and its resources, and he had little heart for such risks as
+      he had once taken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, how about the girl, Tom?&rdquo; asked Murrell at length, in a low even
+      tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The girl? Oh, Betty, you mean?&rdquo; said Ware, and shifted uneasily in his
+      seat. &ldquo;Haven't you got enough on your hands without worrying about her?
+      She don't like you, haven't I told you that? Think of some one else for a
+      spell, and you'll find it answers,&rdquo; he urged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you think is going to happen here if I take your advice? She'll
+      marry one of these young bloods!&rdquo; Ware's lips twitched. &ldquo;And then, Tom,
+      you'll get your orders to move out, while her husband takes over the
+      management of her affairs. What have you put by anyhow?&mdash;enough to
+      stock another place?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, not a damn cent!&rdquo; said Ware. Murrell laughed incredulously.
+      &ldquo;It's so! I've turned it all over&mdash;more lands, more niggers, bigger
+      crops each year. Another man might have saved his little spec, but I
+      couldn't; I reckon I never believed it would go to her, and I've managed
+      Belle Plain as if I were running it for myself.&rdquo; He seemed to writhe as if
+      undergoing some acute bodily pain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you are in a fair way to turn it all over to her husband when she
+      marries, and step out of here a beggar, unless&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It isn't right, John! I haven't had pay for my ability! Why, the place
+      would have gone down to nothing with any management but mine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If she were to die, you'd inherit?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware laughed harshly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She looks like dying, doesn't she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen to me, Tom. I'll take her away, and Belle Plain is yours&mdash;land,
+      stock and niggers!&rdquo; said Murrell quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware shifted and twisted in his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It can't be done. I can advise and urge: but I can't command. She's got
+      her friends, those people back yonder in North Carolina, and if I made
+      things uncomfortable for her here she'd go to them and I couldn't stop
+      her. You don't seem to get it through your head that she's got no earthly
+      use for you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell favored him with a contemptuous glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're like every one else! Certain things you'll do, and certain other
+      things you won't even try to do&mdash;your conscience or your fear gets in
+      your way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call it what you like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I offer to take the girl off your hands; when I quit the country she
+      shall go with me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'd be left here to explain what had become of her!&rdquo; cried Ware, in a
+      panic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You won't have anything to explain. She'll have disappeared, that will be
+      all you'll know,&rdquo; said Murrell quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She'll never marry you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you be too sure of that. She may be glad enough to in the end.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you think you are a hell of a fellow with women! Well, maybe you are
+      with one sort&mdash;but what do you know about her kind?&rdquo; jeered the
+      planter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell's brow darkened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll manage her,&rdquo; he said briefly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were of some account until this took hold of you,&rdquo; complained Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you say? One would hardly think I was offering to make you a
+      present of the best plantation in west Tennessee!&rdquo; said Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware seemed to suck in hope through his shut teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't want to know anything about this, you are going to swamp yourself
+      yet&mdash;you're fixing to get yourself strung up&mdash;yes, by thunder,
+      that'll be your finish!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you want the land and the niggers? I reckon you'll have to take them
+      whether you want them or not, for I'm going to have the girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. BOB YANCY FINDS HIMSELF
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Yancy awoke from a long dreamless sleep; heavy-lidded, his eyes slid
+      open. For a moment he struggled with the odds and ends of memory, then he
+      recalled the fight at the tavern, the sudden murderous attack, the fierce
+      blows Slosson had dealt him, the knife thrust which had ended the
+      struggle. Therefore, the bandages that now swathed his head and shoulders;
+      therefore, the need that he should be up and doing&mdash;for where was
+      Hannibal?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sought to lift himself on his elbow, but the effort sent shafts of pain
+      through him; his head seemed of vast size and endowed with a weight he
+      could not support. He sank back groaning, and closed his eyes. After a
+      little interval he opened them again and stared about him. There was the
+      breath of dawn in the air; he heard a rooster crow, and the contented
+      grunting of a pig close at hand. He was resting under a rude shelter of
+      poles and bark. Presently he became aware of a slow gliding movement, and
+      the silvery ripple of water. Clearly he was no longer at the tavern, and
+      clearly some one had taken the trouble to bandage his hurts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length his eyes rolling from side to side focused themselves on a low
+      opening near the foot of his shakedown bed. Beyond this opening, and at
+      some little distance, he saw a sunbonneted woman of a plump and
+      comfortable presence. She was leaning against a tub which rested on a rude
+      bench. At her back was another bark shanty similar to the one that
+      sheltered himself, while on either hand a shoreless expanse of water
+      danced and sparkled under the rays of the newly risen sun. As his eyes
+      slowly took in the scene, Yancy's astonishment mounted higher and higher.
+      The lady's sunbonnet quite hid her face, but he saw that she was smoking a
+      cob-pipe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was still staring at her, when the lank figure of a man emerged from
+      the other shanty. This man wore a cotton shirt and patched butternut
+      trousers; he way hatless and shoeless, and his hair stood out from his
+      head in a great flaming shock. He, too, was smoking a cob-pipe. Suddenly
+      the man put out a long arm which found its way about the lady's waist, an
+      attention that culminated in a vigorous embrace. Then releasing her, he
+      squared his shoulders, took a long breath, beat his chest with the flat of
+      his hands and uttered a cheerful whoop. The embrace, the deep breath, and
+      the whoop constituted Mr. Cavendish's morning devotions, and were
+      expressive of a spirit of thankfulness to the risen sun, his general
+      satisfaction with the course of Providence, and his homage to the lady of
+      his choice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Swinging about on his heel, Cavendish passed beyond Yancy's range of
+      vision. Again the latter attempted to lift himself on his elbow, but sky
+      and water changed places before his eyes and he dropped down on his pillow
+      with a stifled sigh. He seemed to be slipping back into the black night
+      from which he had just emerged. Again he was at Scratch Hill, again Dave
+      Blount was seeking to steal his nevvy&mdash;incidents of the trial and
+      flight recurred to him&mdash;all was confused, feverish, without sequence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly a shadow fell obliquely across the foot of his narrow bed, and
+      Cavendish, bending his long body somewhat, thrust his head in at the
+      opening. He found himself looking into a pair of eyes that for the first
+      time in many a long day held the light of consciousness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you, stranger?&rdquo; he demanded, in a soft drawl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where am I?&rdquo; the words were a whisper on Yancy's bearded lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, you are in the Tennessee River fo' certain; my wife will make
+      admiration when she hears you speak. Polly! you jest step here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Polly had heard Cavendish speak, and the murmur of Yancy's voice in
+      reply. Now her head appeared beside her husband's, and Yancy saw that she
+      was rosy and smiling, and that her claim to good looks was something that
+      could not well be denied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;La, you are some better, ain't you, sir?&rdquo; she cried, smiling down on him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How did I get here, and where's my nevvy?&rdquo; questioned Yancy anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There now, you ain't in no condition fo' to pester yo'self with worry.
+      You was fished up out of the Elk River by Mr. Cavendish,&rdquo; Polly explained,
+      still smiling and dimpling at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When, ma'am&mdash;last night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You got another guess coming to you, stranger!&rdquo; It was Cavendish who
+      spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean, sir, that I been unconscious for a spell?&rdquo; suggested Yancy
+      rather fearfully, glancing from one to the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's been right smart of a spell, too; yes, sir, you've laid like you was
+      dead, and not fo' a matter of hours either&mdash;but days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, nigh on to three weeks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They saw Yancy's eyes widen with a look of dumb horror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Three weeks!&rdquo; he at length repeated, and groaned miserably. He was
+      thinking of Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You was mighty droll to look at when I fished you up out of the river,&rdquo;
+       continued Mr. Cavendish. &ldquo;You'd been cut and beat up scandalous!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you don't know nothing about my nevvy?&mdash;you ain't seen or heard
+      of him, ma'am?&rdquo; faltered Yancy, and glanced up into Polly's comely face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Polly shook her head regretfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How come you in the river?&rdquo; asked Cavendish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I was throwed in. It was a man named Murrell and another man
+      named Slosson. They tried fo' to murder me&mdash;they wanted to get my
+      nevvy&mdash;I 'low they done it!&rdquo; and Yancy groaned again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll get him back,&rdquo; said Polly soothingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Could you-all put me asho'?&rdquo; inquired Yancy, with sudden eagerness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We could, but we won't,&rdquo; said Cavendish, in no uncertain tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, la!&mdash;you'd perish!&rdquo; exclaimed Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are we far from where you-all picked me up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cavendish nodded. He did not like to tell Yancy the distance they had
+      traversed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you-all taking me?&rdquo; asked Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, stranger, that's a question I can't answer offhand. The Tennessee
+      are a twister; mebby it will be Kentucky; mebby it will be Illinoy, and
+      mebby it will be down yonder on the Mississippi. My tribe like this way of
+      moving about, and it certainly favors a body's legs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How old was your nevvy?&rdquo; inquired Polly, reading the troubled look in
+      Yancy's gray eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ten or thereabouts, ma'am. He were a heap of comfort to me,&rdquo; and the
+      whisper on Yancy's lips was wonderfully tender and wistful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just the age of my Richard,&rdquo; said Polly, her glance full of compassion
+      and pity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cavendish essayed to speak, but was forced to pause and clear his
+      throat. The allusion to Richard in this connection having been almost more
+      than he could endure with equanimity. When he was able to put his thoughts
+      into words, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shore am distressed fo' you. I tried to leave you back yonder where I
+      found you, but no one knowed you and you looked so near dead folks
+      wouldn't have it. What parts do you come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'th Carolina. Me and my nevvy was a-goin' into west Tennessee to a
+      place called Belle Plain, somewhere near Memphis. We have friends there,&rdquo;
+       explained Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That settles it!&rdquo; cried Cavendish. &ldquo;It won't be Kentucky, and it won't be
+      Illinoy; I'll put you asho' at Memphis; mebby you'll find yo' nevvy there
+      after all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the best. You lay still and get yo' strength back as fast as you
+      can, and try not to worry&mdash;do now.&rdquo; Polly's voice was soft and
+      wheedling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I been a heap of bother to you-all,&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;La, no,&rdquo; Polly assured him; &ldquo;you ain't been.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And now the six little Cavendishes appeared on the scene. The pore
+      gentleman had come to&mdash;sho! He had got his senses back&mdash;sho! he
+      wa'n't goin' to die after all; he could talk. Sho! a body could hear him
+      plain! Excited beyond measure they scurried about in their fluttering rags
+      of nightgowns for a sight and hearing of the pore gentleman. They
+      struggled madly to climb over their parents, and failing this&mdash;under
+      them. But the opening that served as a door to the shanty being small, and
+      being as it was completely stoppered by their father and mother who were
+      in no mood to yield an inch, they distributed themselves in quest of
+      convenient holes in the bark edifice through which to peer at the pore
+      gentleman. And since the number of youthful Cavendishes exceeded the
+      number of such holes, the sound of lamentation and recrimination presently
+      filled the morning air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I kin see the soles of his feet!&rdquo; shrieked Keppel with passionate
+      intensity, his small bleached eye glued to a crack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was instantly ravished of the sight by Henry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean hateful thing!&mdash;just because you're bigger than Kep!&rdquo; and
+      Constance fell on the spoiler. As her mother's right-hand man she had
+      cuffed and slapped her way to a place of power among the little brothers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cavendish appeared to allay hostilities.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I 'low I'll skin you if you don't keep still! Dress!&mdash;the whole kit
+      and b'ilin' of you!&rdquo; he roared, and his manner was quite as ferocious as
+      his words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the six little Cavendishes were impressed by neither. They instantly
+      fastened on him like so many leeches. What was the pore gentleman saying?&mdash;why
+      couldn't they hear, too? Then they'd keep still, sure they would! Did he
+      say he knowed who throwed him in the river?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder, Connie, you ain't able to do more with these here children.
+      Seems like you ought to&mdash;a great big girl like you,&rdquo; said Mr.
+      Cavendish, reduced to despair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was Henry pickin' on Kep,&rdquo; cried Constance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I found a crack and he took it away from me! drug me off by the legs, he
+      did, and filled my stomach full of slivers!&rdquo; wailed Keppel, suddenly
+      remembering he had a grievance. &ldquo;You had ought to let me see the pore
+      gentleman!&rdquo; he added ingratiatingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, ain't you been seein' him every day fo' risin' two weeks and
+      upwards?&mdash;ain't you sat by him hours at a stretch?&rdquo; demanded Mr.
+      Cavendish fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sho&mdash;that didn't count, he only kept a mutterin'&mdash;sho!&mdash;arollin'
+      his head sideways, sho! And their six tow heads were rolled to illustrate
+      their meaning. And a-pluckin' at a body's hands!&mdash;and they plucked at
+      Mr. Cavendish's hands. Sho&mdash;did he say why he done that?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you-all will quit yo' noise and dress, you-all kin presently set by
+      the pore gentleman. If you don't, I'll have to speak to yo' mother; I 'low
+      she'll trim you! I reckon you-all don't want me to call her? No, by
+      thunderation!&mdash;because you-all know she won't stand no nonsense!
+      She'll fan you; she'll take the flat of her hand to you-all and make you
+      skip some; I reckon I'd get into my pants befo' she starts on the warpath.
+      I wouldn't give her no such special opportunity as you're offerin'!&rdquo; Mr.
+      Cavendish's voice and manner had become entirely confidential and
+      sympathetic, and though fear of their mother could not be said to bulk
+      high on their horizon, yet the small Cavendishes were persuaded by sheer
+      force of his logic to withdraw and dress. Their father hurried back to
+      Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was just thinkin', sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that if it would be any comfort to
+      you, we'll tie up to the bank right here and wait until you can travel.
+      I'm powerfully annoyed at having fetched you all this way!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Yancy shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll be glad to go on to Memphis with you. If my nevvy got away from
+      Murrell, that's where I'll find him. I reckon folks will be kind to him
+      and sort of help him along. Why, he ain't much mo' than knee high!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore they will! there's a lot of good in the world, so don't you fret
+      none about him!&rdquo; cried Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't do much else, ma'am, than think of him bein' lonesome and hungry,
+      maybe&mdash;and terribly frightened. What do you-all suppose he thought
+      when he woke up and found me gone?&rdquo; But neither Polly nor her husband had
+      any opinion to venture on this point. &ldquo;If I don't find him in Memphis I'll
+      take the back track to No'th Carolina, stoppin' on the way to see that man
+      Slosson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I 'low there's a fit comin' to him when he gets sight of you!&rdquo; and
+      Cavendish's bleached blue eyes sparkled at the thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's a heap mo' than a fit. I don't bear malice, but I stay mad a long
+      time,&rdquo; answered Yancy grimly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shouldn't talk no mo',&rdquo; said Polly. &ldquo;You must just lay quiet and get
+      yo' strength back. Now, I'm goin' to fix you a good meal of vittles.&rdquo; She
+      motioned Cavendish to follow her, and they both withdrew from the shanty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy closed his eyes, and presently, lulled by the soft ripple that bore
+      them company, fell into a restful sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When he told us of his nevvy, Dick, and I got to thinkin' of his bein'
+      just the age of our Richard, I declare it seemed like something got in my
+      throat and I'd choke. Do you reckon he'll ever find him?&rdquo; said Polly, as
+      she busied herself with preparations for their breakfast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope so, Polly!&rdquo; said Cavendish, but her words were a powerful assault
+      on his feelings, which at all times lay close to the surface and were
+      easily stirred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under stress of his emotions, he now enjoined silence on his family,
+      fortifying the injunction with dire threats as to the consequences that
+      would descend with lightning&mdash;like suddenness on the head of the
+      unlucky sinner who forgot and raised his voice above a whisper. Then he
+      despatched a chicken; sure sign that he and Polly considered their guest
+      had reached the first stage of convalescence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. AN ORPHAN MAN OF TITLE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The raft drifted on into the day's heat; and when at last Yancy awoke, it
+      was to find Henry and Keppel seated beside him, each solacing him with a
+      small moist hand, while they regarded him out of the serious unblinking
+      eyes of childhood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Howdy!&rdquo; said he, smiling up at them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Howdy!&rdquo; they answered, a sociable grin puckering their freckled faces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you find yo'self pretty well, sir?&rdquo; inquired Keppel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I find myself pretty weak,&rdquo; replied Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me and Kep has been watching fo' to keep the flies from stinging you,&rdquo;
+       explained Henry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We-all takes turns doin' that,&rdquo; Keppel added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, and how many of you-all are there?&rdquo; asked Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's six of we-uns and the baby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They covertly examined this big bearded man who had lost his nevvy, and
+      almost his life. They had overheard their father and mother discuss his
+      plans and knew when he was recovered from his wounds if he did not
+      speedily meet up with his nevvy at a place called Memphis, he was going
+      back to Lincoln County, which was near where they came from, to have the
+      hide off a gentleman of the name of Slosson. They imagined the gentleman
+      named Slosson would find the operation excessively disagreeable; and that
+      Yancy should be recuperating for so unique an enterprise invested him with
+      a romantic interest. Henry squirmed closer to the recumbent figure on the
+      bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me and Kep would like mighty well to know how you-all are goin' to strip
+      the hide offen to that gentleman's back,&rdquo; he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy instantly surmised that the reference was to Slosson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I'll feel obliged to just naturally skin him,&rdquo; he explained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho', will he let you do that?&rdquo; they demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He won't be consulted none. And his hide will come off easy once I get
+      hold of him by the scruff of the neck.&rdquo; Yancy's speech was gentle and his
+      lips smiling, but he meant a fair share of what he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho', is that the way you do it?&rdquo; And round-eyed they gazed down on this
+      fascinating stranger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I may have to touch him up with a tickler,&rdquo; continued Yancy, who did not
+      wish to prove disappointing. &ldquo;I reckon you-all know what a tickler is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What if Mr. Slosson totes a tickler, too?&rdquo; asked Keppel insinuatingly.
+      This opened an inviting field for conjecture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That won't make no manner of difference. Why? Because it's a powerful
+      drawback fo' a man to know he's in the wrong, just as it's a heap in yo'
+      favor to know you're in the right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father's got a tickler; I seen it often,&rdquo; vouchsafed Henry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a foot long, with a buck horn handle. Gee whiz!&mdash;he keeps it
+      keen; but he never uses it on no humans,&rdquo; said Keppel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course he don't; he's a high-spirited, right-actin' gentleman. But
+      what do you reckon he'd feel obliged to do if a body stole one of
+      you-all?&rdquo; inquired Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoop! He'd carve 'em deep!&rdquo; cried Keppel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Mrs. Cavendish appeared, bringing Yancy's breakfast. In her
+      wake came Connie with the baby, and the three little brothers who were to
+      be accorded the cherished privilege of seeing the poor gentleman eat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You got a nice little family, ma'am,&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon nobody complains mo' about their children than me, but I
+      reckon nobody gets mo' comfort out of their children either. I hope
+      you-all are a-goin' to be able to eat, you ain't had much nourishment. La,
+      does yo' shoulder pain you like that? Want I should feed you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry, ma'am, but I reckon you'll have to,&rdquo; Yancy spoke regretfully.
+      &ldquo;I expect I been a passel of bother to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you ain't. Here's Dick to see how you make out with the chicken,&rdquo;
+       Polly added, as Cavendish presented himself at the opening that did duty
+      as a door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This looks like bein' alive, stranger,&rdquo; he commented genially. He
+      surveyed the group of which Yancy was the center. &ldquo;If them children gets
+      too numerous, just throw 'em out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You-all ain't told me yo' name yet?&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Cavendish. Richard Keppel Cavendish, to get it all off my mind at a
+      mouthful. And this lady's Mrs. Cavendish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name's Yancy&mdash;Bob Yancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cavendish exchanged glances with Mrs. Cavendish. By a nod of her
+      dimpled chin the lady seemed to urge some more extended confidence on his
+      part. Chills and Fever seated himself at the foot of Yancy's bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stranger, what I'm a-goin' to tell you, you'll take as bein' said man to
+      man,&rdquo; he began, with the impressive air of one who had a secret of great
+      moment to impart; and Yancy hastened to assure him that whatever passed
+      between them, his lips should be sealed. &ldquo;It ain't really that, but I
+      don't wish to appear proud afo' no man's, eyes. First, I want to ask you,
+      did you ever hear tell of titles?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Polly and the children hung breathlessly on Mr. Yancy's reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly have,&rdquo; he rejoined promptly. &ldquo;Back in No'th Carolina we went
+      by the chimneys.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chimneys? What's chimneys got to do with titles, Mr. Yancy?&rdquo; asked Polly,
+      while her husband appeared profoundly mystified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A whole lot, ma'am. If a man had two chimneys to his house we always
+      called him Colonel, if there was four chimneys we called him General.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;La!&rdquo; cried Polly, smiling and showing a number of new dimples. &ldquo;Dick
+      don't mean militia titles, Mr. Yancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Them's the only ones I know anything of,&rdquo; confessed Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ever hear tell of lords?&rdquo; inquired Chills and Fever, tilting his head on
+      one side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo; And Yancy was quick to notice the look of disappointment on the
+      faces of his new friends. He felt that for some reason, which was by no
+      means clear to him, he had lost caste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you ever heard of royalty?&rdquo; and Cavendish fixed the invalid's
+      wandering glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean kings?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shore do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy regarded him reflectively and made a mighty mental effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's them Bible kings&mdash;&rdquo; he ventured at length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cavendish shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Them's sacred kings. Are you familiar with any of the profane kings, Mr.
+      Yancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, taking them as they come, them Bible kings seemed to average pretty
+      profane.&rdquo; Yancy was disposed to defend this point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must a heard of the kings of England. Sho', wa'n't any of yo' folks
+      in the war agin' him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd plumb forgot, why my daddy fit all through that war!&rdquo; exclaimed
+      Yancy. The Cavendishes were immensely relieved. Polly beamed on the
+      invalid, and the children hunched closer. Six pairs of eager lips were
+      trembling on the verge of speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now you-all keep still,&rdquo; said Cavendish. &ldquo;I want Mr. Yancy should get the
+      straight of this here! The various orders of royalty are kings, dukes,
+      earls and lords. Earls is the third from the top of the heap, but lords
+      ain't no slouch; it's a right neat little title, and them that has it can
+      turn round in most any company.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dick had ought to know, fo' he's an earl himself,&rdquo; cried Polly
+      exultantly, unable to restrain herself any longer, while a mutter came
+      from the six little Cavendishes who had been wonderfully silent for them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho', Richard Keppel Cavendish, Earl of Lambeth! 'Sho', that was what he
+      was! Sho'!&rdquo; and some transient feeling of awe stamped itself upon their
+      small faces as they viewed the long and limber figure of their parent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that mo' than a Colonel?&rdquo; Yancy risked the question hesitatingly, but
+      he felt that speech was expected from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the possessor of the title.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would a General lay it over you any?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir, he wouldn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy gazed respectfully but uncertainly at Chills and Fever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then all I got to say is that I've traveled considerably, mostly between
+      Scratch Hill and Balaam's Cross Roads, meeting with all kinds of folks;
+      but I never seen an earl afo. I take it they are some scarce.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are. I don't reckon there's another one but me in the whole United
+      States.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think of that!&rdquo; gasped Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We ain't nothin' fo' style, it bein' my opinion that where a man's a born
+      gentleman he's got a heap of reason fo' to be grateful but none to brag,&rdquo;
+       said Cavendish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dick's kind of titles are like having red hair and squint eyes. Once they
+      get into a family they stick,&rdquo; explained Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've noticed that, 'specially about squint eyes.&rdquo; Yancy was glad to plant
+      his feet on familiar ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These here titles go to the eldest son. He begins by bein' a viscount,&rdquo;
+       continued Chills and Fever. He wished Yancy to know the full measure of
+      their splendor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And their wives are ladies-ain't they, Dick?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cavendish nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anybody with half an eye would know you was a lady, ma'am,&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kep here is an Honorable, same as a senator or a congressman,&rdquo; Cavendish
+      went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At his age, too!&rdquo; commented Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And my daughter's the Lady Constance,&rdquo; said Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Havin' such a mother she ain't no choice,&rdquo; observed Yancy, with an air of
+      gentle deference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dick's got the family, Mr. Yancy. My folks, the Rhetts, was plain
+      people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some of 'em ain't so noticeably plain, either,&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho', you've a heap of good sense, Mr. Yancy!&rdquo; and Cavendish shook him
+      warmly by the hand. &ldquo;The first time I ever seen her, I says, I'll marry
+      that lady if it takes an arm! Well, it did most of the time while I was
+      co'tin' her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;La!&rdquo; cried Polly, blushing furiously. &ldquo;You shouldn't tell that, Dick. Mr.
+      Yancy ain't interested.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, I'd been hearin' about old man Rhett's Polly fo' considerable
+      of a spell,&rdquo; said Cavendish, looking at Polly reflectively. &ldquo;He lived up
+      at the head waters of the Elk River. Fellows who had been to his place,
+      when girls was mentioned would sort of shake their heads sad-like and say,
+      'Yes, but you had ought to see old man Rhett's Polly, all the rest is
+      imitations!' Seemed like they couldn't get her off their minds. So I just
+      slung my kit to my back, shouldered my rifle, and hoofed it up-stream. I
+      says, I'll see for myself where this here paragon lays it all over the
+      rest of her sect, but sho&mdash;the closter I came to old man Rhett the
+      mo' I heard of Polly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dick, how you do run on,&rdquo; cried Polly protestingly, but Chills and
+      Fever's knightly soul dwelt in its illusions, and the years had not made
+      stale his romance. Also Polly was beaming on him with a wealth of
+      affection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I seen her fo' the first time as I was warmin' the trail within a mile of
+      old man Rhett's. She was carrying a grist of co'n down to the mill in her
+      father's ox cart. When I clapped eyes on her I says, 'I'll marry that
+      lady. I'll make her the Countess of Lambeth&mdash;she'll shore do fo' the
+      peerage any day!' That was yo' mommy, sneezic's!&rdquo; Mr. Cavendish paused to
+      address himself to the baby whom Connie had relinquished to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet I made time the rest of the way. I says, 'She's sixteen if she's
+      a day, and all looks!' I broke into old man Rhett's clearin' on a keen
+      run. He was a settin' afo' his do' smokin' his pipe and he glanced me over
+      kind of weary-like and says, 'Howdy!' It wa'n't much of a greetin' the way
+      he said it either; but I figured it was some better than bein' chased off
+      the place. So I stepped indo's, stood my rifle in a corner and hung up my
+      cap. He was watchin' me and presently he drawled out, 'Make yo'self
+      perfectly at home, stranger.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I says, 'Squire'&mdash;he wa'n't a squire, but they called him that&mdash;I
+      says, 'Squire, my name's Cavendish. Let's get acquainted quick. I'm here
+      fo' to co'te yo' Polly. I seen her on the road a spell back and I couldn't
+      be better suited.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says, 'You had ought to be kivered up in salt, young man, else yo'll
+      spile in this climate.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I says, 'I'll keep in any climate.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says, 'Polly ain't givin' her thoughts much to marryin', she's busy
+      keepin' house fo' her pore old father.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I says, 'I've come here special fo' to arouse them thoughts you mention.
+      If I seem slow.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says, 'You don't. If this is yo' idea of bein' slow, I'd wish to avoid
+      you when you was in a hurry.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I says, 'Put in yo' spare moments thinkin' up a suitable blessin' fo'
+      us.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says, 'You'll have yo' hands full. There's a number of young fellows
+      hereabouts that you don't lay it over none in p'int of freshness or
+      looks.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I says, 'Does she encourage any of 'em?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says, 'Nope, she don't. Ain't I been tellin' you she's givin' her mind
+      to keepin' house fo' her pore old father?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I says, 'If she don't encourage 'em none, she shore must disencourage
+      'em. I 'low she gets my help in that.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says, 'They'll run you so far into the mountings, Mr. Cavendish,
+      you'll never be heard tell of again in these parts.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I says, 'I'll bust the heads offen these here galoots if they try that!'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He asks, grinnin', 'Have you arranged how yo' remains are to be sent back
+      to yo' folks?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I says, 'I'm an orphan man of title, a peer of England, and you can leave
+      me lay if it cones to that.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Well,'. he says, 'if them's yo' wishes, the buzzards as good as got
+      you.&rdquo;' Cavendish lapsed into a momentary silence. It was plain that these
+      were cherished memories.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what I call co'tin!&rdquo; remarked Mr. Yancy, with conviction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Earl of Lambeth resumed
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was as bad as old man Rhett said it was. Sundays his do'yard looked
+      like a militia muster. They told it on him that he hadn't cut a stick of
+      wood since Polly was risin' twelve. I reckon, without exaggeration, I fit
+      every unmarried man in that end of the county, and two lookin' widowers
+      from Nashville. I served notice on to them that I'd attend to that
+      woodpile of old man Rhett's fo' the future; that I was qualifying fo' to
+      be his son-in-law, and seekin' his indorsement as a provider. I took 'em
+      on one at a time as they happened along, and lambasted 'em all over the
+      place. As fo' the Nashville widowers,&rdquo; said Cavendish with a chuckle, and
+      a nod to Polly, &ldquo;I pretty nigh drownded one of 'em in the Elk. We met in
+      mid-stream and fit it out there; and the other quit the county. That was
+      fo'teen years ago; but, mind you, I'd do it all over again to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Dick, you ain't telling Mr. Yancy nothin' about yo' title,&rdquo;
+       expostulated Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd admire to hear mo' about that,&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm gettin' round to that. It was my great grandfather come over here
+      from England. His name was Richard Keppel Cavendish, same as mine is. He
+      lived back yonder on the Carolina coast and went to raisin' tobacco. I've
+      heard my grandfather tell how he'd heard folks say his father was always
+      hintin' in his licker that he was a heap better than he seemed, and if
+      people only knowed the truth about him they'd respect him mo', and mebby
+      treat him better. Well, sir, he married and riz a family; there was my
+      grandfather and a passel of girls&mdash;and that crop of children was the
+      only decent crop he ever riz. I've heard my grandfather tell how, when he
+      got old enough to notice such things, he seen that his father had the look
+      of a man with something mysterious hangin' over him, but he couldn't make
+      it out what it was, though he gave it a heap of study. He seen, too, that
+      let him get a taste of licker and he'd begin to throw out them hints, how
+      if folks only knowed the truth they'd be just naturally fallin' over
+      themselves fo' to do him a favor, instead of pickin' on him and tryin' to
+      down him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My grandfather said he never knowed a man, either, with the same aversion
+      agin labor as his father had. Folks put it down to laziness, but they
+      misjudged him, as come out later, yet he never let on. He just went around
+      sorrowful-like, and when there was a piece of work fo' him to do he'd
+      spend a heap of time studyin' it, or mebby he'd just set and look at it
+      until he was ready fo' to give it up. Appeared like he couldn't bring
+      himself down to toil.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then one day he got his hands on a paper that had come acrost in a ship
+      from England. He was readin' it, settin' in the shade; my grandfather said
+      he always noticed he was partial to the shade, and his wife was pesterin'
+      of him fo' to go and plow out his truck-patch, when, all at once, he lit
+      on something in the paper, and he started up and let out a yell like he'd
+      been shot. 'By gum, I'm the Earl of Lambeth!' he says, and took out to the
+      nearest tavern and got b'ilin' full. Afterward he showed 'em the paper and
+      they seen with their own eyes where Richard Keppel Cavendish, Earl of
+      Lambeth, had died in London. My great grandfather told 'em that was his
+      uncle; that when he left home there was several cousins&mdash;which was
+      printed in the paper, too&mdash;but they'd up and died, so the title
+      naturally come to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, that was the first the family ever knowed of it, and then they
+      seen what it was he'd meant when he throwed out them hints about bein' a
+      heap better than he seemed. He said perhaps he wouldn't never have told,
+      only he couldn't bear to be misjudged like he'd always been.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He never done a lick of work after that. He said he couldn't bring
+      himself down to it; that it was demeanin' fo' a person of title fo' to
+      labor with his hands like a nigger or a common white man. He said he'd
+      leave it to his family to see he didn't come to want, it didn't so much
+      matter about them; and he lived true to his principles to the day of his
+      death, and never riz his hand except to feed himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cavendish paused. Yancy was feeling that in his own person he had
+      experienced some of the best symptoms of a title.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then what?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, he lived along like that, never complainin', my grandfather
+      said, but mighty sweet and gentlelike as long as there was plenty to eat
+      in the house. He lived to be nigh eighty, and when he seen he was goin' to
+      die he called my grandfather to him and says, 'She's yours, Dick,'&mdash;meanin'
+      the title&mdash;and then he says, 'There's one thing I've kep' from you.
+      You've been a viscount ever since I come into the title, and then he went
+      on and explained what he wanted cut on his tombstone, and had my
+      grandfather write it out, so there couldn't be any mistake. When he'd
+      passed away, my grandfather took the title. He said it made him feel
+      mighty solemn and grand-like, and it come over him all at once why it was
+      his father hadn't no heart fo' work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does it always take 'em that way?&rdquo; inquired Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It takes the Earls of Lambeth that way. I reckon you might say it was
+      hereditary with 'em. Where was I at?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your grandpap, the second earl,&rdquo; prompted Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes&mdash;well, he 'lowed he'd emigrate back to England, but while he
+      was studying how he could do this, along come the war. He said he couldn't
+      afford to fight agin his king, so he pulled out and crossed the mountings
+      to avoid being drug into the army. He said he couldn't let it get around
+      that the Earls of Lambeth was shootin' English soldiers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course he couldn't,&rdquo; agreed Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's been my dream to take Polly and the children and go back to England
+      and see the king about my title. I 'low he'd be some surprised to see us.
+      I'd like to tell him, too, what the Earls of Lambeth done fo' him&mdash;that
+      they was always loyal, and thought a heap better of him than their
+      neighbors done, and mebby some better than he deserved. Don't you reckon
+      that not hearin' from us, he's got the notion the Cavendishes has petered
+      out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Yancy considered this likely, and said so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You might send him writin' in a letter,&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The furious shrieking of a steam-packet's whistle broke in upon them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's another of them hawgs, wantin' all the river!&rdquo; said Mr. Cavendish,
+      and fled in haste to the steering oar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During all the long days that followed, Mr. Yancy was forced to own that
+      these titled friends of his were, despite their social position, uncommon
+      white in their treatment of him. The Earl of Lambeth consorted with him in
+      that fine spirit that recognizes the essential brotherhood of man, while
+      his Lady Countess was, as Yancy observed, on the whole, a person of simple
+      and uncorrupted tastes. She habitually went barefoot, both as a matter of
+      comfort and economy, and she smoked her cob-pipe as did those other ladies
+      of Lincoln County who had married into far less exalted stations than her
+      own. He put these simple survivals down to her native goodness of heart,
+      which would not allow of her succumbing to mere pride and vainglory, for
+      he no more doubted their narrative than they, doubted it themselves, which
+      was not at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. THE JUDGE SEES A GHOST
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Charley Norton's good offices did not end when he had furnished judge
+      Price with a house, for Betty required of him that he should supply that
+      gentleman with legal business as well. When she pointed out the necessity
+      of this, Norton demurred. He had no very urgent need of a lawyer, and had
+      the need existed, Slocum Price would not have been his choice. Betty knit
+      her brows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He must have a chance; perhaps if people knew you employed him it would
+      give them confidence&mdash;you must realize this, Charley; it isn't enough
+      that he has a house&mdash;he can't wear it nor eat it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And fortunately he can't drink it, either. I don't want to discourage
+      you, but his looks are all against him, Betty. If you take too great an
+      interest in his concerns I am afraid you are going to have him permanently
+      on your hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Haven't you some little scrap of business that really doesn't matter
+      much, Charley? You might try him&mdash;just to please me&mdash;&rdquo; she
+      persisted coaxingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there's land I'm buying&mdash;I suppose I could get him to look up
+      the title, I know it's all right anyhow,&rdquo; said Norton, after a pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus it happened that judge Price, before he had been three days in
+      Raleigh, received a civil note from Mr. Norton asking him to search the
+      title to a certain timber tract held by one Joseph Quaid; a communication
+      the effect of which was out of all proportion to the size of the fee
+      involved. The judge, powerfully excited, told Mahaffy he was being
+      understood and appreciated; that the tide of prosperity was clearly
+      setting his way; that intelligent foresight, not chance, had determined
+      him when he selected Raleigh instead of Memphis. Thereafter he spoke of
+      Charley Norton only as &ldquo;My client,&rdquo; and exalted him for his breeding,
+      wealth and position, refusing to admit that any man in the county was held
+      in quite the same esteem. All of which moved Mahaffy to flashes of grim
+      sarcasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The immediate result of Norton's communication had been to send the judge
+      up the street to the courthouse. He would show his client that he could be
+      punctual and painstaking. He should have his abstract of title without
+      delay; moreover, he had in mind a scholarly effort entirely worthy of
+      himself. The dull facts should be illuminated with an occasional striking
+      phrase. He considered that it would doubtless be of interest to Mr.
+      Norton, in this connection, to know something, too, of mediaeval land
+      tenure, ancient Roman and modern English. He proposed artfully to pander
+      to his client's literary tastes&mdash;assuming that he had such tastes.
+      But above all, this abstract must be entirely explanatory of himself,
+      since its final purpose was to remove whatever doubts his mere appearance
+      might have bred in Mr. Norton's mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If my pocket could just be brought to stand the strain of new clothes
+      before the next sitting of court, I might reasonably hope for a share of
+      the pickings,&rdquo; thought the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Entering the court-house, he found himself in a narrow hall. On his right
+      was the jury-room, and on his left the county clerk's office, stuffy
+      little holes, each lighted by a single window. Beyond, and occupying the
+      full width of the building, was the court-room, with its hard, wooden
+      benches and its staring white walls. Advancing to the door, which stood
+      open, the judge surveyed the room with the greatest possible satisfaction.
+      He could fancy it echoing to that eloquence of which he felt himself to be
+      the master. He would show the world, yet, what was in him, and especially
+      Solomon Mahaffy, who clearly had not taken his measure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Turning away from the agreeable picture his mind had conjured up, he
+      entered the county clerk's office. He was already known to this official,
+      whose name was Saul, and he now greeted him with a pleasant air of
+      patronage. Mr. Saul removed his feet from the top of his desk and motioned
+      his visitor to a chair; at the same time he hospitably thrust forward a
+      square box filled with sawdust. It was plain he labored under the
+      impression that the judge's call was of an unprofessional character.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little matter of business brings me here, sir,&rdquo; began the judge, with a
+      swelling chest and mellow accents. &ldquo;No, sir, I'll not be seated&mdash;another
+      time I'll share your leisure if I may&mdash;now I am in some haste to look
+      up a title for my client, Mr. Norton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What Norton?&rdquo; asked Mr. Saul, when he had somewhat recovered from the
+      effect of this announcement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Charles Norton, of Thicket Point,&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you mean that timber tract of old Joe Quaid's.&rdquo; Mr. Saul viewed
+      the judge's ruinous exterior with a glance of respectful awe, for clearly
+      a man who could triumph over such a handicap must possess uncommon merit
+      of some sort. &ldquo;So you're looking after Charley Norton's business for him,
+      are you?&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's a client of mine. We have mutual friends, sir&mdash;I refer to Miss
+      Malroy,&rdquo; the judge vouchsafed to explain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're naming our best people, sir, when you name the Malroys and the
+      Nortons; they are pretty much in a class by themselves,&rdquo; said Mr. Saul,
+      whose awe of the judge was momentarily increasing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't underestimate the value of a social endorsement, sir, but I've
+      never stood on that,&rdquo; observed the judge. &ldquo;I've come amongst you
+      unheralded, but I expect you to find me out. Now, sir, if you'll be good
+      enough, I'll glance at the record.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Saul scrambled up out of the depths of his chair and exerted himself
+      in the judge's behalf.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is what you want, sir. Better take the ledger to the window, the
+      light in here ain't much.&rdquo; He drew forward a chair as he spoke, and the
+      judge, seating himself, began to polish his spectacles with great
+      deliberation. He felt that he had reached a crisis in his career, and was
+      disposed to linger over the hope that was springing up in his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How does the docket for the next term of court stand?&rdquo; he inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pretty fair, sir,&rdquo; said Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any litigation of unusual interest in prospect?&rdquo; The judge was fitting
+      his glasses to the generous arch of his nose, a feature which nicely
+      indexed its owner's habits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir, just the ordinary run of cases.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hoped to hear you say different.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've set on the bench, sir?&rdquo; suggested Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In one of the eastern counties, but my inclination has never been toward
+      the judiciary. My temperament, sir, is distinctly aggressive&mdash;and
+      each one according to the gifts with which God has been graciously pleased
+      to endow him! I am frank to say, however, that my decisions have received
+      their meed of praise from men thoroughly competent to speak on such
+      matters.&rdquo; He was turning the leaves of the ledger as he spoke. Suddenly
+      the movement of his hand was arrested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Found it?&rdquo; asked Mr. Saul. But the judge gave him no answer; absorbed and
+      aloof he was staring down at the open pages of the book. &ldquo;Found the
+      entry?&rdquo; repeated Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&mdash;what's that? No&mdash;&rdquo; he appeared to hesitate. &ldquo;Who is this
+      man Quintard?&rdquo; The question cost him an effort, that was plain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's the owner of a hundred-thousand-acre tract in this and abutting
+      counties,&rdquo; said Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge continued to stare down at the page.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he a resident of the county?&rdquo; he asked, at length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he lives back yonder in North Carolina.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A hundred thousand acres!&rdquo; the judge muttered thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There or thereabouts&mdash;yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who has charge of the land?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colonel Fentress; he was old General Ware's law partner. I've heard it
+      was the general who got this man Quintard to make the investment, but that
+      was before my time in these parts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge lapsed into a heavy, brooding silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A step sounded in the narrow hall. An instant later the door was pushed
+      open, and grateful for any interruption that would serve to take Mr.
+      Saul's attention from himself, the judge abruptly turned his back on the
+      clerk and began to examine the record before him. Engrossed in this, he
+      was at first scarcely aware of the conversation that was being carried on
+      within a few feet of him. Insensibly, however, the cold, level tones of
+      the voice that was addressing itself to Mr. Saul quickened the beat of his
+      pulse, the throb of his heart, and struck back through the years to a day
+      from which he reckoned time. The heavy, calf-bound volume in his hand
+      shook like a leaf in a gale. He turned slowly, as if in dread of what he
+      might see.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What he saw was a man verging on sixty, lean and dark, with thin, shaven
+      cheeks of a bluish cast above the jaw, and a strongly aquiline profile.
+      Long, black locks swept the collar of his coat, while his tall, spare
+      figure was habited in sleek broadcloth and spotless linen. For a moment
+      the judge seemed to struggle with doubt and uncertainty, then his face
+      went a ghastly white and the book slipped from his nerveless fingers to
+      the window ledge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The stranger, his business concluded, swung about on his heel and quitted
+      the office. The judge, his eyes starting from their sockets, stared after
+      him; the very breath died on his lips; speechless and motionless, he was
+      still seeing that tall, spare figure as it had passed before him, but his
+      memories stripped a weight of thirty years from those thin shoulders. At
+      last, heavy-eyed and somber, he glanced about him. Mr. Saul, bending above
+      his desk, was making an entry in one of his ledgers. The judge shuffled to
+      his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was that man?&rdquo; he asked thickly, resting a shaking hand on the
+      clerk's arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That?&mdash;Oh, that was Colonel Fentress I was just telling you about.&rdquo;
+       He looked up from his writing. &ldquo;Hello! You look like you'd seen a ghost!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's the heat in here&mdash;I reckon&mdash;&rdquo; said the judge, and began to
+      mop his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ever seen the colonel before?&rdquo; asked Mr. Saul curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, he's one of our leading planters, and a mighty fine lawyer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has he always lived here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he came into the county about ten years ago, and bought a place
+      called The Oaks, over toward the river.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has he&mdash;has he a family?&rdquo; The judge appeared to be having difficulty
+      with his speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that anybody knows of. Some say he's a widower, others again say he's
+      an old bachelor; but he don't say nothing, for the colonel is as close as
+      wax about his own affairs. So it's pure conjecture, sir.&rdquo; There was a
+      brief silence. &ldquo;The county has its conundrums, and the colonel's one of
+      them,&rdquo; resumed Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes?&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The colonel's got his friends, to be sure, but he don't mix much with the
+      real quality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; asked the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's apparently as high-toned a gentleman as you'd meet with anywhere;
+      polished, sir, so smooth your fingers would slip if you tried to take hold
+      of him, but it's been commented on that when a horsethief or counterfeiter
+      gets into trouble the colonel's always first choice for counsel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get's 'em off, does he?&rdquo; The judge spoke somewhat grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mighty nigh always. But then he has most astonishing luck in the matter
+      of witnesses. That's been commented on too.&rdquo; The judge nodded
+      comprehendingly. &ldquo;I reckon you'd call Tom Ware, out at Belle Plain, one of
+      Fentress' closest friends. He's another of your conundrums. I wouldn't
+      advise you to be too curious about the colonel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; The judge was frowning now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will make you unpopular with a certain class. Those of us who've been
+      here long enough have learned that there are some of these conundrums we'd
+      best not ask an answer for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge pondered this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean to tell me, sir, that freedom of speech is not allowed?&rdquo; he
+      demanded, with some show of heat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perfect freedom, if you pick and choose your topic,&rdquo; responded Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; ejaculated the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now you might talk to me with all the freedom you like, but I'd recommend
+      you were cautious with strangers. There have been those who've talked
+      freely that have been advised to keep still or harm would come of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And did harm come of it?&rdquo; asked the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They always kept still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean by talking freely?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like asking how so and so got the money to buy his last batch of
+      niggers,&rdquo; explained Mr. Saul rather vaguely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Colonel Fentress is one of those about whose affairs it is best not
+      to show too much curiosity?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is, decidedly. His friends appear to set a heap by him. Another of his
+      particular intimates is a gentleman by the name of Murrell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've met him,&rdquo; he said briefly. &ldquo;Does he belong hereabouts?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, hardly; he seems to hold a sort of roving commission. His home is, I
+      believe, near Denmark, in Madison County.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's his antecedents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's as common a white man as ever came out of the hills, but he appears
+      to stand well with Colonel Fentress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colonel Fentress!&rdquo; The judge spat in sheer disgust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't appear to fancy the colonel&mdash;&rdquo; said Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't fancy wearing a gag&mdash;and damned if I do!&rdquo; cried the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it ain't that exactly; it's just minding your own business. I reckon
+      you'll find there's lot's to be said in favor of goin' ca'mly on attending
+      strictly to your own affairs, sir,&rdquo; concluded Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Acting on a sudden impulse, the judge turned to the door. The business and
+      the hope that had brought him there were forgotten. He muttered something
+      about returning later, and hastily quitted the office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon he's a conundrum too!&rdquo; reflected Mr. Saul, as the door
+      swung shut.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the hall the judge's steps dragged and his head was bowed. He was busy
+      with his memories, memories that spanned the desolate waste of years in
+      which he had walked from shame to shame, each blacker than the last. Then
+      passion shook him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn him&mdash;may God-for ever damn him!&rdquo; he cried under his breath, in
+      a fierce whisper. A burning mist before his eyes, he shuffled down the
+      hall, down the steps, and into the shaded, trampled space that was known
+      as the court-house yard. Here he paused irresolutely. Across the way was
+      the gun-maker's shop, the weather-beaten sign came within range of his
+      vision, and the dingy white letters on their black ground spelled
+      themselves out. The words seemed to carry some message, for the judge,
+      with his eyes fixed on the sign as on some beacon of hope, plunged across
+      the dusty road and entered the shop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At supper that night it was plain to both Mr. Mahaffy and Hannibal that
+      the judge was in a state of mind best described as beatific. The tenderest
+      consideration, the gentlest courtesy flowed from him as from an unfailing
+      spring; not that he was ever, even in his darkest hours, socially remiss,
+      but there was now a special magnificence to his manner that bred suspicion
+      in Mahaffy's soul. When he noted that the judge's shoes were extremely
+      dusty, this suspicion shaped itself definitely. He was convinced that on
+      the strength of his prospective fee the judge had gone to Belle Plain, for
+      what purpose Mr. Mahaffy knew only too well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It took you some time to get up that abstract, didn't it, Price?&rdquo; he
+      presently said, with artful indirection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall go on with that in the morning, Solomon; my interest was
+      dissipated this evening,&rdquo; rejoined the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Looks as though you had devoted a good part of your time to
+      pedestrianism,&rdquo; suggested Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite right, so I did, Solomon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were you at Belle Plain?&rdquo; demanded Mahaffy harshly and with a black
+      scowl. The judge had agreed to keep away from Belle Plain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Solomon, you forget our pact.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I am glad you remembered it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They finished supper, the dishes were cleared away and the candles
+      lighted, when the judge produced a mysterious leather-covered case. This
+      he placed upon the table and opened, and Mahaffy and Hannibal, who had
+      drawn near, saw with much astonishment that it held a handsome pair of
+      dueling pistols, together with all their necessary paraphernalia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did you get 'em, Judge?&mdash;Oh, ain't they beautiful!&rdquo; cried
+      Hannibal, circling about the table in his excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear lad, they were purchased only a few hours ago,&rdquo; said the judge
+      quietly, as he began to load them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For Heaven's sake, Price, do be careful!&rdquo; warned Mahaffy, who had a
+      horror of pistols that extended to no other species of firearm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall observe all proper caution, Solomon,&rdquo; the judge assured him
+      sweetly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judge, may I try 'em some day?&rdquo; asked Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my boy, that's part of a gentleman's education.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, look out you don't shoot him before his education begins,&rdquo; snapped
+      Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did you buy 'em?&rdquo; Hannibal was dodging about the judge, the better
+      to follow the operation of loading.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At the gunsmith's, dear lad. It occurred to me that we required small
+      arms. If you'll stand quietly at my elbow and not hop around, you'll
+      relieve Mr. Mahaffy's apprehension.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I declare, Price, you need a guardian, if ever a man did!&rdquo; cried Mahaffy,
+      in a tone of utter exasperation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Solomon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&mdash;they are absolutely useless. It was a waste of good money that
+      you'll be sorry about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless you, Solomon&mdash;they ain't paid for!&rdquo; said the judge, with a
+      thick little chuckle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't do you the injustice to suppose they were; but you haven't any
+      head for business; aren't you just that much nearer the time when not a
+      soul here will trust you? That's just like you, to plunge ahead and use up
+      your credit on gimcracks!&rdquo; Mahaffy prided himself on his acquaintance with
+      the basic principles of economics.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can sell 'em again,&rdquo; observed the judge placidly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For less than half what they are worth!&mdash;I never knew so poor a
+      manager!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The pistols were soon loaded, and the judge turned to Hannibal. &ldquo;I
+      regretted that you were not with me out at Boggs' this evening, Hannibal;
+      you would have enjoyed seeing me try these weapons there. Now carry a
+      candle into the kitchen and place it on the table.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy laughed contemptuously, but was relieved to know the purpose to
+      which the judge had devoted the afternoon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What aspersion is rankling for utterance within you now, Solomon?&rdquo; said
+      the judge tolerantly. Assuming a position that gave him an unobstructed
+      view across the two rooms, he raised the pistol in his hand and discharged
+      it in that brief instant when he caught the candle's flame between the
+      notches of the sight, but he failed to snuff the candle, and a look of
+      bitter disappointment passed over his face. He picked up the other pistol.
+      &ldquo;This time&mdash;&rdquo; he muttered under his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try blowing it out try the snuffers!&rdquo; jeered Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This time!&rdquo; repeated the judge, unheeding him, and as the pistol-shot
+      rang out the light vanished. &ldquo;By Heaven, I did it!&rdquo; roared the judge,
+      giving way to an uncontrollable burst of feeling. &ldquo;I did it&mdash;and I
+      can 'do it again&mdash;light the candle, Hannibal!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He began to load the pistols afresh with feverish haste, and Mahaffy,
+      staring at him in amazement, saw that of a sudden the sweat was dripping
+      from him. But the judge's excitement prevented his attempting another shot
+      at once, twice his hand was raised, twice it was lowered, the third time
+      the pistol cracked and the candle's flame was blown level, fluttered for a
+      brief instant, and went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I nick the tallow, Hannibal?&rdquo; The judge spoke anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, both shots.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must remedy that,&rdquo; said the judge. Then, as rapidly as he could load
+      and fire, bullet after bullet was sent fairly through the flame,
+      extinguishing it each time. Mahaffy was too astonished at this display of
+      skill even to comment, while Hannibal's delight knew no bounds. &ldquo;That will
+      do!&rdquo; said the judge at last. He glanced down at the pistol in his hand.
+      &ldquo;This is certainly a gentleman's weapon!&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. THE WARNING
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Norton had ridden down to Belle Plain ostensibly to view certain of those
+      improvements that went so far toward embittering Tom Ware's existence.
+      Gossip had it that he kept the road hot between the two places, and this
+      was an added strain on the planter. But Norton did not go to Belle Plain
+      to see Mr. Ware. If that gentleman had been the sole attraction, he would
+      have made just one visit suffice; had it preceded his own, he would have
+      attended Tom's funeral, and considered that he had done a very decent
+      thing. On the present occasion he and Betty were strolling about the
+      rehabilitated grounds, and Norton was exhibiting that interest and
+      enthusiasm which Betty always expected of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are certainly making the old place look up!&rdquo; he said, as they passed
+      out upon the terrace. He had noted casually when he rode up the lane half
+      an hour before that a horse was tied near Ware's office; a man now issued
+      from the building and swung himself into the saddle. Norton turned
+      abruptly to Betty. &ldquo;What's that fellow doing here?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose he comes to see Tom,&rdquo; said Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he here often?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every day or so.&rdquo; Betty's tone was indifferent. For reasons which had
+      seemed good and sufficient she had never discussed Captain Murrell with
+      Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every day or so?&rdquo; repeated Norton. &ldquo;But you don't see him, Betty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, of course I don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tom has no business allowing that fellow around; if he don't know this
+      some one ought to tell him!&rdquo; Norton was working himself up into a fine
+      rage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He doesn't bother me, Charley, if that's what you're thinking of. Let's
+      talk of something else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'd better not, or I'll make it a quarrel with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you mustn't think of that, Charley, indeed you mustn't!&rdquo; cried Betty
+      in some alarm, for young Mr. Norton was both impulsive and hot-headed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, just how often is Murrell here?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told you&mdash;every few days. He and Tom seem wonderfully congenial.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were silent for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tom always sees him in his office,&rdquo; explained Betty. She might have made
+      her explanation fuller on this point had she cared to do so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the first decent thing I ever heard of Tom!&rdquo; said Norton with
+      warmth. &ldquo;But he ought to kick him off the place the first chance he gets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think Belle Plain is ever going to look as it did, Charley?&mdash;as
+      we remember it when we were children?&rdquo; asked Betty, giving a new direction
+      to the conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course it is, dear, you are doing wonders!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've really been ashamed of the place, the way it looked&mdash;and I
+      can't understand Tom!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't try to,&rdquo; advised Norton. &ldquo;Look here, Betty, do you remember it was
+      right on this terrace I met you for the first time? My mother brought me
+      down, and I arrived with a strong prejudice against you, young lady,
+      because of the clothes I'd been put into&mdash;they were fine but
+      oppressive.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long did the prejudice last, Charley?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It didn't last at all, I thought you altogether the nicest little girl
+      I'd ever seen&mdash;just what I think now, I wish you could care for me,
+      Betty, just a little; just enough to marry me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Charley, I do care for you! I'm very, very fond of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, don't make such a merit of it,&rdquo; he said, and they both laughed.
+      &ldquo;I'm at an awful disadvantage, Betty, from having proposed so often. That
+      gives it a humorous touch which doesn't properly reflect the state of my
+      feeling at all&mdash;and you hear me without the least emotion; so long as
+      I keep my distance we might just as well be discussing the weather!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very good about that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keeping my distance, you mean?&mdash;Betty, if you knew how much
+      resolution that calls for! I wonder if that isn't my mistake&mdash;&rdquo; And
+      Norton came a step nearer and took her in his arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With her hands on his shoulders Betty pushed him back, while the rich
+      color came into her cheeks. She was remembering Bruce Carrington, who had
+      not kept his distance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, Charley,&rdquo; she said half angrily, &ldquo;I do like you tremendously, but
+      I simply can't bear you when you act like this&mdash;let me go!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Betty, I despair of you ever caring for me!&rdquo; and as Norton turned
+      abruptly away he saw Tom Ware appear from about a corner of the house.
+      &ldquo;Oh, hang it, there's Tom!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very nice, anyway, Charley&mdash;&rdquo; said Betty hurriedly,
+      fortified by the planter's approach.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware stalked toward them. Having dined with Betty as recently as the day
+      before, he contented himself with a nod in her direction. His greeting to
+      Norton was a more ambitious undertaking; he said he was pleased to see
+      him; but in so far as facial expression might have indorsed the statement
+      this pleasure was well disguised, it did not get into his features.
+      Pausing on the terrace beside them, he indulged in certain observations on
+      the state of the crops and the weather.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've lost a couple of niggers, I hear?&rdquo; he added with an oblique
+      glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got on the track of them yet?&rdquo; Norton shook his head. &ldquo;I understand
+      you've a new overseer?&rdquo; continued Ware, with another oblique glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you understand wrong&mdash;Carrington's my guest,&rdquo; said Norton.
+      &ldquo;He's talking of putting in a crop for himself next season, so he's
+      willing to help me make mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty turned quickly at the mention of Carrington's name. She had known
+      that he was still at Thicket Point, and having heard him spoken of as
+      Norton's new overseer, had meant to ask Charley if he were really filling
+      that position. An undefined sense of relief came to her with Norton's
+      reply to Tom's question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Going to turn farmer, is he?&rdquo; asked Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So he says.&rdquo; Feeling that the only subjects in which he had ever known
+      Ware to take the slightest interest, namely, crops and slaves, were
+      exhausted, Norton was extremely disappointed when the planter manifested a
+      disposition to play the host and returned to the house with them, where
+      his mere presence, forbidding and sullen, was such a hardship that Norton
+      shortly took his leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, hang Tom!&rdquo; he said, as he rode away from Belle Plain. &ldquo;If he thinks
+      he can freeze me out there's a long siege ahead of him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Issuing from the lane he turned his face in the direction of home, but he
+      did not urge his horse off a walk. To leave Belle Plain and Betty demanded
+      always his utmost resolution. His way took him into the solemn twilight of
+      untouched solitudes. A cool breath rippled through the depths of the woods
+      and shaped its own soft harmonies where it lifted the great branches that
+      arched the road. He crossed strips of bottom land where the water stood in
+      still pools about the gnarled and moss-covered trunks of trees. At
+      intervals down some sluggish inlet he caught sight of the yellow flood
+      that was pouring past, or saw the Arkansas coast beyond, with its mighty
+      sweep of unbroken forest that rose out of the river mists and blended with
+      the gray distance that lay along the horizon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was within two miles of Thicket Point when, passing about a sudden turn
+      in the road, he found himself confronted by three men, and before he could
+      gather up his reins which he held loosely, one of them had seized his
+      horse by the bit. Norton was unarmed, he had not even a riding-whip. This
+      being the case he prepared to make the best of an unpleasant situation
+      which he felt he could not alter. He ran his eye over the three men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry, gentlemen, but I reckon you have hold of the wrong person&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get down!&rdquo; said one of the men briefly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven't any money, that's why I say you have hold of the wrong person.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We don't want your money.&rdquo; The unexpectedness of this reply somewhat
+      disturbed Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you want, then?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We got a word to say to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can hear it in the saddle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get down!&rdquo; repeated the man, a surly, bull-necked fellow. &ldquo;Come&mdash;hurry
+      up!&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Norton hesitated for an instant, then swung himself out of the saddle and
+      stood in the road confronting the spokesman of the party.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, what do you wish to say to me?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just this&mdash;you keep away from Belle Plain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You go to hell!&rdquo; said Norton promptly. The man glowered heavily at hire
+      through the gathering gloom of twilight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We want your word that you'll keep away from Belle Plain,&rdquo; he said with
+      sullen insistence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you won't get it!&rdquo; responded Norton with quiet decision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We won't?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly you won't!&rdquo; Norton's eyes began to flash. He wondered if these
+      were Tom Ware's emissaries. He was both quick-tempered and high-spirited.
+      Falling back a step, he sprang forward and dealt the bullnecked man a
+      savage blow. The latter grunted heavily but kept his feet. In the same
+      instant one of the men who had never taken his eyes off Norton from the
+      moment he quitted the saddle, raised his fist and struck the young planter
+      in the back of the neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cur!&rdquo; cried Norton, blind and dizzy, as he wheeled on him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn him&mdash;let him have it!&rdquo; roared the bullnecked man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Afterward Norton was able to remember that the three rushed on him, that
+      he was knocked down and kicked with merciless brutality, then
+      consciousness left him. He lay very still in the trampled dust of the
+      road. The bull-necked man regarded the limp figure in grim silence for a
+      moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That'll do, he's had enough; we ain't to kill him this time,&rdquo; he said. An
+      instant later he, with his two companions, had vanished silently into the
+      woods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Norton's horse trotted down the road. When it entered the yard at Thicket
+      Point half an hour later, Carrington was on the porch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that you, Norton?&rdquo; he called, but there was no response, and he saw
+      the horse was riderless. &ldquo;Jeff!&rdquo; he cried, summoning Norton's servant from
+      the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the matter, Mas'r?&rdquo; asked the negro, as he appeared in the open
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, here's Mr. Norton's horse come home without him. Do you know where
+      he went this afternoon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I heard him say he reckoned he'd ride over to Belle Plain, Mas'r,&rdquo;
+       answered Jeff, grinning. &ldquo;I 'low the hoss done broke away and come home by
+      himself&mdash;he couldn't a-throwed Mas'r Charley!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll make sure of that. Get lanterns, and a couple of the boys!&rdquo; said
+      Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was mid-afternoon of the day following before Betty heard of the attack
+      on Charley Norton. Tom brought the news, and she at once ordered her horse
+      saddled and was soon out on the river road with a black groom trailing
+      along through the dust in her wake. Tom's version of the attack was that
+      Charley, had been robbed and all but murdered, and Betty never drew rein
+      until she reached Thicket Point. As she galloped into the yard Bruce
+      Carrington came from the house. At sight of the girl, with her wind-blown
+      halo of bright hair, he paused uncertainly. By a gesture Betty called him
+      to her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is Mr. Norton?&rdquo; she asked, extending her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The doctor says he'll be up and about inside of a week, anyhow, Miss
+      Malroy,&rdquo; said Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty gave a great sigh of relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then his hurts are not serious?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Carrington, &ldquo;they are not in any sense serious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I see him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's pretty well bandaged up, so he looks worse off than he is. If you'll
+      wait on the porch, I'll tell him you are here,&rdquo; for Betty had dismounted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington passed on into the house. His face wore a look of somber
+      repression. Of course it was all right for her to come and see Norton&mdash;they
+      were old, old friends. He entered the room where Norton lay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Malroy is here,&rdquo; he said shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Betty?&mdash;bless her dear heart!&rdquo; cried Charley rather weakly. &ldquo;Just
+      toss my clothes into the closet and draw up a chair... There-thank you,
+      Bruce, that will do&mdash;let her come along in now.&rdquo; And as Carrington
+      quitted the room, Norton drew himself up on the pillows and faced the
+      door. &ldquo;This is worth several beatings, Betty!&rdquo; he exclaimed as she
+      appeared on the threshold. But much cotton and many bandages lent him a
+      rather fearful aspect, and Betty paused with a little gasp of dismay. &ldquo;I'm
+      lots better than I look, I expect,&rdquo; said Norton. &ldquo;Couldn't you arrange to
+      come a little closer?&rdquo; he added, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He bent to kiss the hand she gave him, but groaned with the exertion. Then
+      he looked up into her face and saw her eyes swimming with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&mdash;tears? Tears for me, Betty?&rdquo; and he was much moved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a perfect outrage! Who did it, Charley?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You sit down and I'll tell you all about it,&rdquo; said Norton happily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now tell me, Charley!&rdquo; when she had seated herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who fetched you, Betty&mdash;old Tom?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I came alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's mighty kind of you. I'll be all right in a day or so. What did
+      you hear?&mdash;that I'd been attacked and half-killed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and robbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There were three of the scoundrels. They made me climb out of the saddle,
+      and as I was unarmed they did as they pleased with me, which was to stamp
+      me flat in the road&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Charley!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I might almost be inclined to think they were friends of yours, Betty&mdash;or
+      at least friends of friends of yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean, Charley&mdash;friends of mine?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you see they started in by stipulating that I should keep away from
+      Belle Plain, and the terms they proposed being on the face of them
+      preposterous, trouble quickly ensued&mdash;trouble for me, you understand.
+      But never mind, dear, the next man who undertakes to grab my horse by the
+      bit won't get off quite so easy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why should any one care whether you come to Belle Plain or not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder if my amiable friend, Tom, could have arranged this little
+      affair; it's sort of like old Tom to move in the dark, isn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He couldn't&mdash;he wouldn't have done it, Charley!&rdquo; but she looked
+      troubled, not too sure of this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Couldn't he? Well, maybe he couldn't&mdash;but he's afraid you'll marry
+      me&mdash;and I'm only afraid you won't. Betty, hasn't it ever seemed worth
+      your while to marry me just to give old Tom the scare of his life?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, Charley&mdash;&rdquo; she began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm in a dreadful state of mind when I think of you alone at Belle Plain&mdash;I
+      wish you could love me, Betty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do love you. There is no one I care half so much for, Charley.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Norton shook his bandaged head and heaved a prodigious sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's merely saying you don't love any one.&rdquo; He dropped back rather
+      wearily on his pillow. &ldquo;Does Tom know about this?&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was he able to show a proper amount of surprise?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He appeared really shocked, Charley.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, it wasn't Tom. He never shows much emotion, but what he does
+      show he usually feels, I've noticed. I had rather hoped it was Tom, I'd be
+      glad to think that he was responsible; for if it wasn't Tom, who was it?&mdash;who
+      is it to whom it makes any difference how often I see you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, Charley;&rdquo; but her voice was uncertain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, Betty; for the hundredth time, won't you marry me? I've loved
+      you ever since I was old enough to know what love meant. You've been
+      awfully sweet and patient with me, and I've tried to respect your wishes
+      and not speak of this except when it seemed necessary&mdash;&rdquo; he paused,
+      and they both laughed a little, but he looked weak and helpless with his
+      bloodless face showing between the gaps in the bandages that swathed him.
+      Perhaps it was this sense of his helplessness that roused a feeling in
+      Betty that was new to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see, Charley, I fear&mdash;I am sure I don't love you the way I
+      should&mdash;to marry you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Charley, greatly excited, groaned and sat up, and groaned again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, please, Charley-lie still!&rdquo; she entreated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all right&mdash;and you needn't pull your hand away&mdash;you like
+      me better than any one else, you've told me so; well, don't you see that's
+      the beginning of really loving me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you wouldn't want to marry me at once?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes I would&mdash;right away&mdash;as soon as I am able to stir around!&rdquo;
+       said Charley promptly. &ldquo;Don't you see the immediate necessity there is of
+      my being in a position to care for you, Betty? I wasn't served this trick
+      for nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must try not to worry, Charley.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I shall&mdash;I expect it's going to retard my recovery,&rdquo; said the
+      young man gloomily. &ldquo;I couldn't be worse off! Here I am flat on my back; I
+      can't come to you or keep watch over you. Let me have some hope, dear&mdash;let
+      me believe that you will marry me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him pityingly, and with a certain latent tenderness in her
+      mood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you really care so much for me, Charley?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love you, Betty!&mdash;I want you to say you will marry me as soon as I
+      can stand by your side&mdash;you're not going?&mdash;I won't speak of this
+      again if it annoys you, dear!&rdquo; for she had risen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must, Charley&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, don't&mdash;well, then, if you will go, I want Carrington to ride
+      back with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I brought George with me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know, but I want you to take Carrington&mdash;the Lord knows what
+      we are coming to here in West Tennessee; I must have word that you reach
+      home safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, then, I'll ask Mr. Carrington. Good-by, Charley, dear!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Norton seemed to summon all his fortitude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You couldn't have done a kinder thing than come here, Betty; I can't
+      begin to tell you how grateful I am&mdash;and as for my loving you&mdash;why,
+      I'll just keep on doing that to the end. I can see myself a bent, old man
+      still pestering you with my attentions, and you a sweet, old lady with
+      snow-white hair and pink cheeks, still obdurate&mdash;still saying no! Oh,
+      Lord, isn't it awful!&rdquo; He had lifted himself on his elbow, and now sank
+      back on his pillow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty paused irresolutely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Charley&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't you be happy without me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you don't try to be!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No use in my making any such foolish effort, I'd be doomed to failure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by, Charley&mdash;I really must go&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up yearningly into her face, and yielding to a sudden impulse,
+      she stooped and kissed him on the forehead, then she fled from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, come back&mdash;Betty&mdash;&rdquo; cried Norton, and his voice rose to a
+      wail of entreaty, but she was gone. She had been quite as much surprised
+      by her act as Charley himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the yard, Carrington was waiting for her. Jeff had just brought up
+      Norton's horse, and though he made no display of weapons, the Kentuckian
+      had fully armed himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to ride to Belle Plain with you, Miss Malroy,&rdquo; he said, as he
+      lifted her into her saddle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think it necessary?&rdquo; she asked, but she did not look at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope not. I'll keep a bit in advance,&rdquo; he added, as he mounted his
+      horse, and all Betty saw of him during their ride of five miles was his
+      broad back. At the entrance to Belle Plain he reined in his horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon it's all right, now,&rdquo; he said briefly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will return at once to Mr. Norton?&rdquo; she asked. He nodded. &ldquo;And you
+      will not leave him while he is helpless?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I'll not leave him,&rdquo; said Carrington, giving her a steady glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am so glad, I&mdash;his friends will feel so much safer with you there.
+      I will send over in the morning to learn how he passed the night. Good-by,
+      Mr. Carrington.&rdquo; And still refusing to meet his eyes, she gave him her
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Carrington did not quit the mouth of the lane until she had crossed
+      between the great fields of waving corn, and he had seen her pass up the
+      hillside beyond to the oak grove, where the four massive chimneys of Belle
+      Plain house showed their gray stone copings among the foliage. With this
+      last glimpse of her he turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. THICKET POINT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It WAS a point with Mr. Ware to see just as little as possible of Betty.
+      He had no taste for what he called female chatter. A sane interest in the
+      price of cotton or pork he considered the only rational test of human
+      intelligence, and Betty evinced entire indifference where those great
+      staples were concerned, hence it was agreeable to him to have most of his
+      meals served in his office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At first Betty had sought to adapt herself to his somewhat peculiar scheme
+      of life, but Tom had begged her not to regard him, his movements from hour
+      to hour were cloaked in uncertainty. The man who had to overlook the labor
+      of eighty or ninety field hands was the worst sort of a slave himself; the
+      niggers knew when they could sit down to a meal; he never did.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But for all his avoidance of Betty, he in reality kept the closest kind of
+      a watch on her movements, and when he learned that she had visited Charley
+      Norton&mdash;George, the groom, was the channel through which this
+      information reached him&mdash;he was both scandalized and disturbed. He
+      felt the situation demanded some sort of a protest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Isn't it just hell the way a woman can worry you?&rdquo; he lamented, as he
+      hurried up the path from the barns to the house. He found Betty at supper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought I'd have a cup of tea with you, Bet&mdash;what else have you
+      that's good?&rdquo; he inquired genially, as he dropped into a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was nice of you; we don't see very much of each other, do we, Tom?&rdquo;
+       said Betty pleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ware twisted his features, on which middle age had rested an untender
+      hand, into a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When a man undertakes to manage a place like Belle Plain his work's laid
+      out for him, Betty, and an old fellow like me is pretty apt to go one of
+      two ways; either he takes to hard living to keep himself in trim, or he
+      pampers himself soft.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you aren't old, Tom!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I were sure of seeing forty-five or even forty-eight again&mdash;but
+      I'm not,&rdquo; said Tom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But that isn't really old,&rdquo; objected Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's old enough, Bet, as you'll discover for yourself one of
+      these days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy, Tom!&rdquo; cried Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ware consumed a cup of tea in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were over to see Norton, weren't you, Bet? How did you find him?&rdquo; he
+      asked abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The doctor says he will soon be about again,&rdquo; answered Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tom stroked his chin and gazed at her reflectively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Betty, I wish you wouldn't go there again&mdash;that's a good girl!&rdquo; he
+      said tactfully, and as he conceived it, affectionately, even, paving the
+      way for an exercise of whatever influence might be his, a point on which
+      he had no very clear idea. Betty glanced up quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Tom, why shouldn't I go there?&rdquo; she demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It might set people gossiping. I reckon there's been pretty near enough
+      talk about you and Charley Norton. A young girl can't be too careful.&rdquo; The
+      planter's tone was conciliatory in the extreme, he dared not risk a break
+      by any open show of authority.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You needn't distress yourself, Tom. I don't know that I shall go there
+      again,&rdquo; said Betty indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn't if I were you.&rdquo; He was charmed to find her so reasonable. &ldquo;You
+      know it isn't the thing for a young girl to call on a man, you'll get
+      yourself talked about in a way you won't like&mdash;take my word for it!
+      If you want to be kind and neighborly send one of the boys over to ask how
+      he is&mdash;or bake a cake with your own hands, but you keep away. That's
+      the idea!&mdash;send him something to eat, something you've made yourself,
+      he'll appreciate that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid he couldn't eat it if I did, Tom. It's plain you have no
+      acquaintance with my cooking,&rdquo; said Betty, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did Norton say if he had any idea as to the identity of the men who
+      robbed him?&rdquo; inquired Tom casually.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Their object wasn't robbery,&rdquo; said Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No?&rdquo; Ware's glance was uneasy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems that some one objects to his coming here, Tom&mdash;here to
+      Belle Plain to see me, I suppose,&rdquo; added Betty. The planter moved
+      uncomfortably in his seat, refusing to meet her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He shouldn't put out a yarn like that, Bet. It isn't just the thing for a
+      gentleman to do&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He isn't putting it out, as you call it! He has told no one, so far as I
+      know,&rdquo; said Betty quickly. Mr. Ware fell into a brooding silence. &ldquo;Of
+      course, Charley wouldn't mention my name in any such connection!&rdquo;
+       continued Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who cares how often he comes here? You don't, and I don't. There's more
+      back of this than Charley would want you to know. I reckon he's got his
+      enemies; some one's had a grudge against him and taken this way to settle
+      it.&rdquo; The planter's tone and manner were charged with an unpleasant
+      significance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't like your hints, Tom,&rdquo; said Betty. Her heightened color and the
+      light in her eyes warned Tom that he had said enough. In some haste he
+      finished his second cup of tea, a beverage which he despised, and after a
+      desultory remark or two, withdrew to his office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty went up-stairs to her own room, where she tried to finish a letter
+      she had begun the day before to Judith Ferris, but she was in no mood for
+      this. She was owning to a sense of utter depression and she had been at
+      home less than a month. Struggle as she might against the feeling, it was
+      borne in upon her that she was wretchedly lonely. She had seated herself
+      by an open window. Now, resting her elbows on the ledge and with her chin
+      between her palms, she gazed off into the still night. A mile distant, on
+      what was called &ldquo;Shanty Hill,&rdquo; were the quarters of the slaves. The only
+      lights she saw were there, the only sounds she heard reached her across
+      the intervening fields. This was her world. A half-savage world with its
+      uncouth army of black dependents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tom's words still rankled. Betty's temper flared up belligerently as she
+      recalled them. He had evidently meant to insinuate that Charley had lied
+      outright when he told her the motive for the attack, and he had followed
+      it up by that covert slur on his character. Charley's devotion was the
+      thing that redeemed the dull monotony of existence. She became suddenly
+      humble and tenderly penitent in her mood toward him; he loved her much
+      better than she deserved, and she suspected that her own attitude had been
+      habitually ungenerous and selfish. She had accepted all and yielded
+      nothing. She wondered gravely why it was she did not love him; she was
+      fond of him&mdash;she was very, very fond of him; she wondered if after
+      all, as he said, this were not the beginning of love, the beginning of
+      that deeper feeling which she was not sure she understood, not sure she
+      should ever experience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The thought of Charley's unwavering affection gave her a great sense of
+      peace; it was something to have inspired such devotion, she could never be
+      quite desperate while she had him. She must try to make him understand how
+      possible an ideal friendship was between them, how utterly impossible
+      anything else. She would like to have seen Charley happily married to some
+      nice girl&mdash;&ldquo;I wonder whom!&rdquo; thought Betty, gazing deep into the night
+      through her drooping lashes. She considered possible candidates for the
+      happiness she herself seemed so willing to forego, but for one reason or
+      another dismissed them all. &ldquo;I am not sure I should care to see him
+      marry,&rdquo; she confessed under her breath. &ldquo;It would spoil everything. Men
+      are much nicer than girls!&rdquo; And Charley possessed distinguished merits as
+      a man; he was not to be too hastily disposed of, even for his own good.
+      She viewed him in his various aspects, his character and disposition came
+      under her critical survey. Nature had given the young planter a handsome
+      presence; wealth and position had come to him as fortuitously. The first
+      of these was no great matter, perhaps; Betty herself was sometimes
+      burdened with a sense of possession, but family was indispensable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In theory, at least, she was a thoroughgoing little aristocrat. A
+      gentleman was always a gentleman. There were exceptions, like Tom, to be
+      sure, but even Tom could have reached up and seized the title had he
+      coveted it. She rarely forgot that she was the mistress of Belle Plain and
+      a Malroy. Just wherein a Malroy differed from the rest of the sons of men
+      she had never paused to consider, it sufficed that there was a hazy Malroy
+      genealogy that went back to tidewater Virginia, and then if one were not
+      meanly curious, and would skip a generation or two that could not be
+      accounted for in ways any Malroy would accept, one might triumphantly
+      follow the family to a red-roofed Sussex manor house. Altogether, it was a
+      highly satisfactory genealogy and it had Betty's entire faith. The Nortons
+      were every bit as good as the Malroys, which was saying a great deal.
+      Their history was quite as pretentious, quite as vague, and as hopelessly
+      involved in the mists of tradition.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Inexplicably enough, Betty found that her thoughts had wandered to
+      Carrington; which was very singular, as she had long since formed a
+      resolution not to think of him at all. Yet she remembered with
+      satisfaction his manner that afternoon, it left nothing to be desired. He
+      was probably understanding the impassable gulf that separated them&mdash;education,
+      experience, feeling, everything that made up the substance of life but
+      deepened and widened this gulf. He belonged to that shifting, adventurous
+      population which was far beneath the slave-holding aristocracy, at least
+      he more nearly belonged to this lower order than to any other. She fixed
+      his status relentlessly as something to be remembered when they should
+      meet again. At last, with a little puckering of the brows and a firm
+      contraction of the lips, she dismissed the Kentuckian from her thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty complied with Tom's expressed wish, for she did not again visit
+      Thicket Point, but then she had not intended doing so. However, the
+      planter was greatly shocked by the discovery he presently made that she
+      was engaged in a vigorous correspondence with Charley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to blazes Murrell had told those fellows to kick the life clean
+      out of him while they were about it!&rdquo; he commented savagely, and fell to
+      cursing impotently. Brute force was a factor to be introduced with caution
+      into the affairs of life, but if you were going to use it, his belief was
+      that you should use it to the limit. You couldn't scare Norton, he was in
+      love with that pink-faced little fool. Keep away?&mdash;he'd never think
+      of it, he'd stuff his pockets full of pistols and the next man who stopped
+      him on the road would better look out! It made him sick&mdash;the utter
+      lack of sense manifested by Murrell, and his talk, whenever they met, was
+      still of the girl. He couldn't see anything so damn uncommon about that
+      red-and-white chit. She wasn't worth running your neck into a halter for&mdash;no
+      woman that ever lived was worth that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The correspondence, so far as Betty was responsible for it, bore just on
+      one point. She wanted Charley to promise that for a time, at least, he
+      would not attempt to see her. It seemed such a needless risk to take,
+      couldn't he be satisfied if he heard from her every day?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Charley was regretful, but firm. Just as soon as he could mount his horse
+      he would ride down to Belle Plain. She was not to distress herself on his
+      account; he had been surprised, but this should not happen again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The calm manner in which he put aside her fears for his safety exasperated
+      Betty beyond measure. She scolded him vigorously. Charley accepted the
+      scolding with humility, but his resolution was unshaken; he did not
+      propose to vacate the public roads at any man's behest; that would be an
+      unwise precedent to establish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty replied that this was not a matter in which silly vanity should
+      enter, even if his life was of no value to himself it did not follow that
+      she held it lightly. It required some eight closely written pages for
+      Charley to explain why existence would be an unsupportable burden if he
+      were denied the sight of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A week had intervened since the attack, and from Jeff, who always brought
+      Charley's letters, Betty learned more of Charley's condition than Charley
+      himself had seen fit to tell. According to Jeff his master was now able to
+      get around pretty tolerable well, though he had a powerful keen misery in
+      his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was whar' they done kicked him most, Miss,&rdquo; he added. Betty
+      shuddered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much longer will he be confined to the house?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I heard him 'low to Mas'r Carrington, Miss, as how he reckoned he'd take
+      a hossback ride to-morrow evenin' if the black and blue was all come out
+      of his features&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;&rdquo; gasped Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seems like they was mighty careless whar' they put their feet, don't it,
+      Miss?&rdquo; said Jeff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was this information she gleaned from Jeff that led Betty to desperate
+      lengths, to the making of what her cooler judgment told her was a
+      desperate bargain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At Thicket Point Charley Norton, greatly excited, hobbled into the library
+      in search of Carrington. He found him reading by the open window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, Bruce!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;It's settled; she's going to marry me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The book slipped unheeded from Carrington's hand to the floor. For a
+      moment he sat motionless, then he slowly pulled himself up out of his
+      chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that?&rdquo; he asked a trifle thickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Betty Malroy is going to marry me,&rdquo; said Norton. Carrington gazed at him
+      in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's settled, is it?&rdquo; he asked at length. He saw his own hopes go down in
+      miserable wreck; they had been utterly futile from the first. He had known
+      all along that Norton loved her, the young planter had made no secret of
+      it. He had been less frank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear you take it quietly enough,&rdquo; said Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't you wish me joy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington held out his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not going to take any risks now, you have too much to live for,&rdquo;
+       he said haltingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I'm to keep away from Belle Plain,&rdquo; said Norton happily. &ldquo;She insists
+      on that; she says she won't even see me if I come there. Everything is to
+      be kept a secret; nothing's to be known until we are actually married;
+      it's her wish&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's to be soon then?&rdquo; Carrington asked, still haltingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a brief silence. Carrington, with face averted, looked from the
+      window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to stay here as long as you need me,&rdquo; he presently said. &ldquo;She&mdash;Miss
+      Malroy asked me to, and then I am going back to the river where I belong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Norton turned on him quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't mean you've abandoned the notion of turning planter?&rdquo; he
+      demanded in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes. What's the use of my trying my hand at a business I don't know
+      the first thing about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn't be in too big a hurry to decide finally on that point,&rdquo; urged
+      Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has decided itself,&rdquo; said Carrington quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Norton was conscious of a subtle change in their relation. Carrington
+      seemed a shade less frank than had been habitual with him; all at once he
+      had removed his private affairs from the field of discussion. Afterward,
+      when Norton considered the matter, he wondered if it were not that the
+      Kentuckian felt himself superfluous in this new situation that had grown
+      up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Charley Norton's features recovered their accustomed hue, but he did not
+      go near Belle Plain; with resolute fortitude he confined himself to his
+      own acres. He was tolerably familiar with certain engaging little
+      peculiarities of Mr. Ware's; he knew, for instance, that the latter was a
+      gentleman of excessively regular habits; once each fortnight, making an
+      excuse of business, he spent a day in Memphis, neither more nor less.
+      Norton told himself with satisfaction that Tom was destined to return to
+      the surprise of his life from the next of these trips. This conviction was
+      the one thing which sustained Charley for some ten days. They were
+      altogether the longest ten days he had ever known, and he had about
+      reached the limit of his endurance when Betty's groom arrived with a
+      letter which threw him into a state of ecstatic happiness. The
+      sober-minded Tom would devote the morrow to Memphis and business. This
+      meant that he would leave Belle Plain at sun-up and return after
+      nightfall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may not like Tom, but you can always count on him,&rdquo; said Norton. Then
+      he ordered his horse and rode off in the direction of Raleigh, but before
+      leaving the house, he scribbled a line or two to be handed Carrington, who
+      had gone down to the nearest river landing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was nightfall when the Kentuckian returned, Hearing his step in the
+      hall, Jeff came from the dining-room, where he was laying the cloth for
+      supper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mas'r Charley has rid to Raleigh, Sah,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;but he done lef' this
+      fo' me to han' to yo&rdquo;&mdash;extending the letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington took it. He guessed its contents. Breaking the seal he read the
+      half dozen lines.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow&mdash;&rdquo; he muttered under his breath, and slowly tore the sheet
+      of note-paper into thin ribbons. He turned to Jeff. &ldquo;Mr. Charley won't be
+      home until late,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I 'low yo' want yo' supper now, Sar?&rdquo; But Carrington shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you needn't bother, Jeff,&rdquo; he said, as he turned toward the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ten minutes later and he had got together his belongings and was ready to
+      quit Thicket Point. He retraced his steps to the floor below. In the hall
+      he paused and glanced about him. He seemed to feel her presence&mdash;and
+      very near&mdash;to-morrow she would enter there as Norton's wife. With his
+      pack under his arm he entered the dining-room in search of Jeff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell your master I have gone to Memphis,&rdquo; he said briefly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't yo' goin' to have a hoss, Mas'r Carrington?&rdquo; demanded Jeff in some
+      surprise. He had come to regard the Kentuckian as a fixture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Carrington. &ldquo;Good-by, Jeff,&rdquo; he added, turning away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But when he left Thicket Point he did not take the Memphis road, but the
+      road to Belle Plain. Walking rapidly, he reached the entrance to the lane
+      within the hour. Here he paused irresolutely, it was as if the force of
+      his purpose had already spent itself. Then he tossed his pack into a fence
+      corner and kept on toward the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. AT THE CHURCH DOOR
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      There was the patter of small feet beyond Betty's door, and little Steve,
+      who looked more like a nice fat black Cupid than anything else, rapped
+      softly; at the same time he effected to squint through the keyhole.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Supper served, Missy,&rdquo; he announced, then he turned no less than seven
+      handsprings in the upper hall and slid down the balustrade to the floor
+      below. He was far from being a model house servant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His descent was witnessed by the butler. Now in his own youth big Steve
+      with as fair a field had cut similar capers, yet he was impelled by his
+      sense of duty to do for his grandson what his own father had so often done
+      for him, and in no perfunctory manner. It was only the sound of Betty's
+      door opening and closing that stayed his hand as he was making choice of a
+      soft and vulnerable spot to which he should apply it. Little Steve slid
+      under the outstretched arm that menaced him and fled to the dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty came slowly down the stairs. Four hours since Jeff had ridden away
+      with the letter. Already there had come to her moments when, she would
+      have given much could she have recalled it, when she knew with dread
+      certainty that whatever her feeling for Charley, it was not love; moments
+      when she realized that she had been cruelly driven by circumstances into a
+      situation that offered no escape.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mas'r Tom he say he won't come in to supper, Missy; he 'low he's powerful
+      busy, gittin' ready to go to Memphis in the mo'ning,&rdquo; explained Steve, as
+      he followed Betty into the dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His mistress nodded indifferently as she seated herself at the table; she
+      was glad to be alone just then; she was in no mood to carry on the usual
+      sluggish conversation with Tom; her own thoughts absorbed her more and
+      more they became terrifying things to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She ate her supper with big Steve standing behind her chair and little
+      Steve balancing himself first on one foot and then on the other near the
+      door. Little Steve's head was on a level with the chair rail and but for
+      the rolling whites of his eyes he was no more than a black shadow against
+      the walnut wainscoting; he formed the connecting link between the
+      dining-room and the remote kitchen. Betty suspected that most of the
+      platters journeyed down the long corridor deftly perched on top of his
+      woolly head. She frequently detected him with greasy or sticky fingers,
+      which while it argued a serious breach of trust also served to indicate
+      his favorite dishes. These two servitors were aware that their mistress
+      was laboring under some unusual stress of emotion. In its presence big
+      Steven, who, with the slightest encouragement, became a medium through
+      which the odds and ends of plantation gossip reached Betty's ears, held
+      himself to silence; while little Steve ceased to shift his weight from
+      foot to foot, the very dearth of speech fixed his attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The long French windows, their curtains drawn, stood open. All day a hot
+      September sun had beaten upon the earth, but with the fall of twilight a
+      soft wind had sprung up and the candles in their sconces flared at its
+      touch. It came out of wide solitudes laden with the familiar night sounds.
+      It gave Betty a sense of vast unused spaces, of Belle Plain clinging on
+      the edge of an engulfing wilderness, of her own loneliness. She needed
+      Charley as much as he seemed to think he needed her. The life she had been
+      living had become suddenly impossible of continuance; that it had ever
+      been possible was because of Charley; she knew this now as she had never
+      known it before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her thoughts dealt with the past. In her one great grief, her mother's
+      death, it had been Charley who had sustained and comforted her. She was
+      conscious of a choking sense of gratitude as she recalled his patient
+      tenderness at that time, the sympathy and understanding he had shown; it
+      was something never to be forgotten.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Unrest presently sent her from the house. She wandered down to the
+      terrace. Before her was the wide sweep of the swampy fore-shore, and
+      beyond just beginning to silver in the moonlight, the bend of the river
+      growing out of the black void. With her eyes on the river and her hands
+      clasped loosely she watched the distant line of the Arkansas coast grow up
+      against the sky; she realized that the moon was rising on Betty Malroy for
+      the last time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She liked Charley; she needed some one to take care of her and her
+      belongings, and he needed her. It was best for them both that she should
+      marry him. True she might have gone back to Judith Ferris; that would have
+      been one solution of her difficulties. Why hadn't she thought of doing
+      this before? Of course, Charley would have followed her East. Charley met
+      the ordinary duties and responsibilities of his position somewhat
+      recklessly; it was only where she was concerned that he became patiently
+      determined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose the end would have been the same there as here,&rdquo; thought Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A moment later she found herself wondering if Charley had told Carrington
+      yet; certainly the Kentuckian would not remain at Thicket Point when he
+      knew. She was sure she wished him to leave not Thicket Point merely, but
+      the neighborhood. She did not wish to see him again&mdash;not see him
+      again&mdash;not see him again&mdash;She found herself repeating the words
+      over and over; they shaped themselves into a dreadful refrain. A nameless
+      terror of the future swept in upon her. She was cold and sick. It was as
+      though an icy hand was laid upon her heart. The words ran on in endless
+      repetition&mdash;not see him again&mdash;they held the very soul of
+      tragedy for her, yet she was roused to passionate protest. She must not
+      think of him, he was nothing to her. She was to be married to another man,
+      even now she was almost a wife&mdash;but battle as she might the struggle
+      went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was the sound of a step on the path. Betty turned, supposing it to
+      be Tom; but it was not Tom, it was Carrington himself who stood before
+      her, his face haggard and drawn. She uttered an involuntary exclamation
+      and shrank away from him. Without a word he stepped to her side and took
+      her hands rather roughly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was silence between them, Betty stared up into his face
+      with wide scared eyes, while he gazed down at her as if he would fasten
+      something on his mind that must never be forgotten. Suddenly he lifted her
+      soft cold hands to his lips and kissed them passionately again and again;
+      then he held them in his own against his cheek, his glance still fixed
+      intently upon her; it held something of bitterness and reproach, but now
+      she kept her eyes under their quivering lids from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What am I to do without you?&rdquo;&mdash;his voice was almost a whisper. &ldquo;What
+      is this thing you have done?&rdquo; Betty's heart was beating with dull
+      sickening throbs, but she dared not trust herself to answer him. He took
+      both her hands in one of his, and, slipping the other under her chin,
+      raised her face so that he could look into her eyes; then he put his arm
+      loosely about her, holding her hands against his breast. &ldquo;If I could have
+      had one moment out of all the years for my own&mdash;only one. I am glad
+      you don't care, dear; it hurts when you reach the end of something that
+      has been all your hope and filled all your days. I have come to say
+      good-by, Betty; this is the last time I shall see you. I am going away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All in an instant Betty pressed close to him, hiding her face in his arm;
+      she clung to him in a panic of pain and horror. She felt something stir
+      within her that had never been there before, as a storm of passionate
+      longing swept through her. Her words, her promise to another man, became
+      as nothing. All her pride was forgotten. Without this man the days
+      stretched away before her a blank. His arm drew her closer still, until
+      she felt her heart throb against his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you care?&rdquo; he said, and seemed to wonder that she should.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bruce, Bruce, I didn't know&mdash;and now&mdash;Oh, my dear, my dear&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He pressed his lips against the bright little head that rested in such
+      miserable abandon against his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you love me?&rdquo; he whispered. The blood ran riot in his veins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why have you stayed away&mdash;why didn't you come to me? I have promised
+      him&mdash;&rdquo; she gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; he said, and shut his lips. There was another silence while she
+      waited for him to speak. She felt that she was at his mercy, that whether
+      right or wrong, as he decided so it would be. At length he said. &ldquo;I
+      thought it wasn't fair to him, and it seemed so hopeless after I came
+      here. I had nothing&mdash;and a man feels that&mdash;so I kept away.&rdquo; He
+      spoke awkwardly with something of the reserve that was habitual to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you had only come!&rdquo; she moaned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did&mdash;once,&rdquo; he muttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn't understand; why did you believe anything I said to you? It was
+      only that I cared&mdash;that in my heart I knew I cared&mdash;I've cared
+      about you ever since that trip down the river, and now I am going to be
+      married to-morrow&mdash;to-morrow, Bruce&mdash;do you realize I have given
+      my promise? I am to meet him at the Spring Bank church at ten o'clock&mdash;and
+      it's tomorrow!&rdquo; she cried, in a laboring choked voice. For answer he drew
+      her closer. &ldquo;Bruce, what can I do?&mdash;tell me what I can do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington made an involuntary gesture of protest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't tell you that, dear&mdash;for I don't know.&rdquo; His voice was
+      steady, but it came from lips that quivered. He knew that he might have
+      urged the supreme claim of his love and in her present desperate mood she
+      would have listened, but the memory of Norton would have been between them
+      always a shame and reproach; as surely as he stood there with his arms
+      about her, as surely as she clung to him so warm and near, he would have
+      lived to see the shadow of that shame in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can not do it&mdash;I can not, Bruce!&rdquo; she panted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear&mdash;dear&mdash;don't tempt me!&rdquo; He held himself in check.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to tell you&mdash;just this once, Bruce&mdash;I love you&mdash;you
+      are my own for this one moment out of my life!&rdquo; and she abandoned herself
+      to the passionate caressing with which he answered her. &ldquo;How can I give
+      you up?&rdquo; he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. He put her from him
+      almost roughly, and leaning against the trunk of a tree buried his face in
+      his hands. Betty watched him for a moment in wretched silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't feel so bad, Bruce,&rdquo; she said brokenly. &ldquo;I am not worth it. I tried
+      not to love you&mdash;I didn't want to.&rdquo; She raised a white face to his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going now, Betty. You&mdash;you shouldn't stay here any longer with
+      me.&rdquo; He spoke with sudden resolution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I shall not see you again?&rdquo; she asked, in a low, stifled voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's good-by&mdash;&rdquo; he muttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not yet&mdash;oh, not yet, Bruce&mdash;&rdquo; she implored. &ldquo;I can not&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;now, dear. I don't dare stay&mdash;I may forget&mdash;&rdquo; but he
+      turned again to her in entreaty. &ldquo;Give me something to remember in all the
+      years that are coming when I shall be alone&mdash;let me kiss you on the
+      lips&mdash;let me&mdash;just this once&mdash;it's good-by we're saying&mdash;it's
+      good-by, Betty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She went to him, and, as he bent above her, slipped her arms about his
+      neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kiss me&mdash;&rdquo; she breathed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He kissed her hair, her soft cheek, then their lips met.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He helped her as she stumbled blindly along the path to the house, and
+      half lifted her up the steps to the door. They paused there for a moment.
+      At last he turned from her abruptly in silence. A step away he halted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you should ever need me&mdash;&rdquo; &ldquo;Never as now,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She saw his tall figure pass down the path, and her straining eyes
+      followed until it was lost in the mild wide spaces of the night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another hot September sun was beating upon the earth as Betty galloped
+      down the lane and swung her horse's head in the direction of Raleigh. Her
+      grief had worn itself out and she carried a pale but resolute face.
+      Carrington was gone; she would keep her promise to Charley and he should
+      never know what his happiness had cost her. She nerved herself for their
+      meeting; somewhere between Belle Plain and Thicket Point Norton would be
+      waiting for her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He joined her before she had covered a third of the distance that
+      separated the two plantations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank God, my darling!&rdquo; he cried fervently, as he ranged up alongside of
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you weren't sure of me, Charley?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I wasn't sure, Betty&mdash;but I hoped. I have been haunting the road
+      for more than an hour. You are making one poor unworthy devil happy,
+      unless&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unless what, Charley?&rdquo; she prompted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unless you came here merely to tell me that after all you couldn't marry
+      me.&rdquo; He put out his hand and covered hers that held the reins. &ldquo;I'll never
+      give you cause to regret it&mdash;you know how I love you, dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Charley&mdash;I know.&rdquo; She met his glance bravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are to go to the church. Mr. Bowen will be there; I arranged with him
+      last night; he will drive over with his wife and daughter, who will be our
+      witnesses, dear. We could have gone to his house, but I thought it would
+      seem more like a real wedding in a church, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty did not answer him, her eyes were fixed straight ahead, the last
+      vestige of color had faded from her face and a deathly pallor was there.
+      This was the crowning horror. She felt the terrible injustice she was
+      doing the man at her side, the depth and sincerity of his devotion was
+      something for which she could make no return. Her lips trembled on the
+      verge of an avowal of her love for Carrington. Presently she saw the
+      church in its grove of oaks, in the shade of one of these stood Mr.
+      Bowen's horse and buggy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We won't have to wait on him!&rdquo; said Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;&rdquo; Betty gasped out the monosyllable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;my darling&mdash;what's the matter?&rdquo; he asked tenderly, his
+      glance bent in concern on the frightened face of the girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing&mdash;nothing, Charley.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They had reined in their horses. Norton sprang to the ground and lifted
+      her from the saddle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will only take a moment, dear!&rdquo; he whispered encouragingly in the
+      brief instant he held her in his arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Charley, it isn't that&mdash;it's dreadfully serious&mdash;&rdquo; she
+      said, with a wild little laugh that was almost hysterical.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn't have it less than that,&rdquo; he said gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Afterward Betty could remember standing before the church in the fierce
+      morning light; she heard Mr. Bowen's voice, she heard Charley's voice, she
+      heard another voice&mdash;her own, though she scarcely recognized it.
+      Then, like one aroused from a dream, she looked about her&mdash;she met
+      Charley's glance; his face was radiant and she smiled back at him through
+      a sudden mist that swam before her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Bowen led her toward the church door. As they neared it they caught
+      the clatter of hoofs, and Tom Ware on a hard-ridden horse dashed up; he
+      was covered with dust and inarticulate with rage. Then a cry came from him
+      that was like the roar of some mortally wounded animal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forbid this marriage!&rdquo; he shrieked, when he could command speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're too late to stop it, Tom, but you can attend it,&rdquo; said Norton
+      composedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you&mdash;&rdquo; Words failed the planter; he sat his horse the
+      picture of a grim and sordid despair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Bowen divided a look of reproach between his wife and daughter; his
+      own conscience was clear; he had told no one of the purpose of Norton's
+      call the night before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll tie the horses, Betty,&rdquo; said Norton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware turned fiercely to Bowen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You knew better than to be a party to this, and by God!&mdash;if you go
+      on with it you shall live to regret it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister made him no answer, he thoroughly disapproved of the planter.
+      It was well that Betty should have a proper protector, this half-brother
+      was hardly that measured by any standard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Norton, leading the horses, had reached the edge of the oaks when from the
+      silent depths of the denser woods came the sharp report of a rifle. The
+      shock of the bullet sent the young fellow staggering back among the mossy
+      and myrtle-covered graves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment no one grasped what had happened, only there was Norton who
+      seemed to grope strangely among the graves. Black spots danced before his
+      eyes, the little group by the church merged into the distance&mdash;always
+      receding, always more remote, as he, stumbled helplessly over the moss and
+      the thick dank myrtle and among the round graves that gave him a
+      treacherous footing; and then he heard Betty's agonized cry. He had fallen
+      now, and his strength went from him, but he kept his face turned on the
+      group before the church in mute appeal, and even as the shadows deepened
+      he was aware that Betty was coming swiftly toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm shot&mdash;&rdquo; he said, speaking with difficulty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Charley&mdash;Charley&mdash;&rdquo; she moaned, slipping her strong young arms
+      about him and gathering him to her breast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up into her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all over&mdash;&rdquo; he said, but as much in wonder as in fear. &ldquo;But I
+      knew you would come to me&mdash;dear&mdash;&rdquo; he added in a whisper. She
+      felt a shudder pass through him. He did not speak again. His lips opened
+      once, and closed on silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII. THE JUDGE OFFERS A REWARD
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The news of Charley Norton's murder spread quickly over the county. For
+      two or three days bands of armed men scoured the woods and roads, and then
+      this activity quite unproductive of any tangible results ceased, matters
+      were allowed to rest with the constituted authorities, namely Mr. Betts
+      the sheriff, and his deputies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No private citizen had shown greater zeal than Judge Slocum Price, no
+      voice had clamored more eloquently for speedy justice than his. He had
+      sustained a loss that was in a peculiar sense personal, he explained. Mr.
+      Norton was his friend and client; they had much in common; their political
+      ideals were in the strictest accord and he had entertained a most
+      favorable opinion of the young man's abilities; he had urged him to enter
+      the national arena and carve out a career for himself; he had promised him
+      his support. The judge so worked upon his own feelings that presently any
+      mention of Norton's name utterly unmanned him. Well, this was life. One
+      could only claim time as it was doled out by clock ticks; we planned for
+      the years and could not be certain of the moments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He spent two entire days at the church and in the surrounding woods, nor
+      did any one describe the murder with the vividness he achieved in his
+      description of it. The minister's narrative was pale and colorless by
+      comparison, and those who came from a distance went away convinced that
+      they had talked with an eyewitness to the tragedy and esteemed themselves
+      fortunate. In short, he imposed himself on the situation with such
+      brilliancy that in the end his account of the murder became the accepted
+      version from which all other versions differed to their discredit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the same magnificent spirit of public service he would have assumed the
+      direction of the search for the murderer, but Mr. Betts' jealousy proved
+      an obstacle to his ambitious design. In view of this he was regretful, but
+      not surprised when the hard-ridden miles covered by dusty men and reeking
+      horses yielded only failure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I had shot that poor boy, I wouldn't ask any surer guarantee of safety
+      than to have that fool Betts with his microscopic brain working in
+      unhampered asininity on the case,&rdquo; he told Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it your idea that you are enlarging your circle of intimate friends by
+      the way you go about slamming into folks?&rdquo; inquired Mahaffy, with harsh
+      sarcasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Later, the judge was shocked at what he characterized as official apathy.
+      It became a point on which he expressed himself with surpassing candor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do they think the murderer's going to come in and give himself up?&mdash;is
+      that the notion?&rdquo; he demanded heatedly of Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The sheriff owns himself beat, Sir; the murderer's got safely away and
+      left no clue to his identity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge waived this aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Clues, sir? If you mean physical evidence the eye can apprehend, I grant
+      it; the murderer has got away; certainly he's been given all the time he
+      needed, but what about the motive that prompted the crime? An
+      intelligently conducted examination such as I am willing to undertake
+      might still bring it to light. Isn't it known that Norton was attacked a
+      fortnight ago as he was leaving Belle Plain? He recovers and is about to
+      be married to Miss Malroy when he is shot at the church door; I'll hazard
+      the opinion the attack was in the nature of a warning for him to keep away
+      from Belle Plain. Now, had he a rival? Clear up these points and you get a
+      clue!&rdquo; The judge paused impressively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tom Ware has acted in a straightforward manner. He's stated frankly he
+      was opposed to the match, that when he heard about it on his way to
+      Memphis he turned back and made every effort to get to the church in time
+      to stop it if he could,&rdquo; said Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Ware need not be considered,&rdquo; observed the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there's been a heap of talk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he'd inspired the firing of the fatal shot he'd have kept away from
+      the church. No, no, Mr. Saul, is there anybody hereabout who aspired to
+      Miss Malroy's hand&mdash;any rejected suitor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that we know of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Under ordinary circumstances, sir, I am opposed to measures that ignore
+      the constituted authorities, but we find ourselves living under
+      extraordinary conditions, and the law&mdash;God save the name&mdash;has
+      proved itself abortive. It is time for the better element to join bands;
+      we must get together, sir. I am willing to take the initial steps and
+      issue the call for a mass meeting of our best citizens. I am prepared to
+      address such a meeting.&rdquo; The very splendor of his conception dazzled the
+      judge; this promised a gorgeous publicity with his name flying broadcast
+      over the county. He continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am ready to give my time gratuitously to directing the activities of a
+      body of picked men who shall rid the county of the lawless element. God
+      knows, sir, I desire the repose of a private career, yet I am willing to
+      sacrifice myself. Is it your opinion, Mr. Saul, that I should move in this
+      matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I advise you didn't,&rdquo; said Mr. Saul, with disappointing alacrity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge looked at him fixedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I wrong in supposing, Mr. Saul, that if I determine to act as I have
+      outlined I shall have your indorsement?&rdquo; he demanded. Mr. Saul looked
+      extremely uncomfortable; he was finding the judge's effulgent personality
+      rather compelling. &ldquo;There is no gentleman whose support I should value in
+      quite the same sense that I should value yours, Mr. Saul; I should like to
+      feel my course met with your full approval,&rdquo; pursued the judge, with
+      charming deference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll get yourself shot full of holes,&rdquo; said Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What causes me to hesitate is this: my name is unfamiliar to your
+      citizens. You know their prejudices, Mr. Saul; how would they regard me if
+      I put myself forward?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't say how they would take it,&rdquo; rejoined Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the judge gave him a fixed scrutiny. Then ha shook him warmly by the
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think of what I have said; ponder it, sir, and let me have your answer at
+      another time.&rdquo; And he backed from Mr. Saul's presence with spectacular
+      politeness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A cheap mind!&rdquo; thought the judge, as he hurried up the street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He broached the subject to Mr. Wesley the postmaster, to Mr. Ellison the
+      gunsmith, to Mr. Pegloe, employing much the same formula he had used with
+      Mr. Saul, and with results almost identical. He imagined there must be
+      some conspiracy afoot to keep him out of the public eye, and in the end he
+      managed to lose his temper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hasn't Norton any friends?&rdquo; he demanded of Pegloe. &ldquo;Who's going to be
+      safe at this rate? We want to let some law into west Tennessee, a hanging
+      or two would clear the air!&rdquo; His emotions became a rage that blew through
+      him like a gale, shaking him to his center.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two mornings later he found where it had been placed under his door during
+      the night a folded paper. It contained a single line of writing:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk too much. Shut up, or you'll go where Norton went.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Now the judge was accessible to certain forms of fear. He was, for
+      instance, afraid of snakes&mdash;both kinds&mdash;and mobs he had dreaded
+      desperately since his Pleasantville experience; but beyond this, fear
+      remained an unexplored region to Slocum Price, and as he examined the
+      scrawl a smile betokening supreme satisfaction overspread his battered
+      features. He was agreeably affected by the situation; indeed he was
+      delighted. His activities were being recognized; he had made his
+      impression; the cutthroats had selected him to threaten. Well, the damned
+      rascals showed their good sense; he'd grant them that! Swelling with
+      pride, he carried the scrawl to Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are forming their estimate of me, Solomon; I shall have them on the
+      run yet!&rdquo; he declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are going out of your way to hunt trouble&mdash;as if you hadn't
+      enough at the best of times, Price! Let these people manage their own
+      affairs, don't you mix up in them,&rdquo; advised the conservative Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge drew himself up with an air of lofty pride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think I am going to be silenced, intimidated, by this sort of
+      thing? No, sir! No, Solomon, the stopper isn't made that will fit my
+      mouth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A few moments later he burst in on Mr. Saul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glance at that, my friend!&rdquo; he cried, as he tossed the paper on the
+      clerk's desk. &ldquo;Eh, what?&mdash;no joke about that, Mr. Saul. I found it
+      under my door this morning.&rdquo; Mr. Saul glanced at the penciled lines and
+      drew in his breath sharply. &ldquo;What do you make of it, sir?&rdquo; demanded the
+      judge anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of course, you'll do as you please, but I'd keep still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean you regard this as an authentic expression, sir, and not as the
+      joke of some irresponsible humorist?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's authentic enough,&rdquo; said Mr. Saul impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge gave a sigh of relief; he could have hugged the little clerk who
+      had put to rest certain miserable doubts that had assailed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, I wish it known that I hold the writer and his threats in contempt;
+      if I have given offense it is to an element I shall never seek to
+      conciliate.&rdquo; Mr. Saul was clearly divided between his admiration for the
+      judge's courage and fear for his safety. &ldquo;One thing is proven, sir,&rdquo; the
+      judge went on; &ldquo;the man who murdered that poor boy is in our midst; that
+      point can no longer be disputed. Now, where are their fine-spun theories
+      as to how he crossed to the Arkansas coast? What does their mass of
+      speculation and conjecture amount to in the face of this?&rdquo; He breathed
+      deep. &ldquo;My God, sir, the murderer may be the very next man you pass the
+      time of day with!&rdquo; Mr. Saul shivered uncomfortably. &ldquo;And the case in the
+      hands of that pin-headed fool, Betts!&rdquo; The judge laughed derisively as he
+      bowed himself out. He left it with Mr. Saul to disseminate the news. The
+      judge strutted home with his hat cocked over one eye, and his chest
+      expanded to such limits that it menaced all his waistcoat buttons. Perhaps
+      he was under observation. Ah, let the cutthroats look their full at him!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He established himself in his office. He had scarcely done so when Mr.
+      Betts knocked at the door. The sheriff came direct from Mr. Saul and
+      arrived out of breath, but the letter was not mentioned by the judge. He
+      spoke of the crops, the chance of rain, and the intricacies of county
+      politics. The sheriff withdrew mystified, wondering why it was he had not
+      felt at liberty to broach the subject which was uppermost in his mind. His
+      place was taken by Mr. Pegloe, and on the heels of the tavern-keeper came
+      Mr. Bowen. Judge Price received them with condescension, but back of the
+      condescension was an air of reserve that did not invite questions. The
+      judge discussed the extension of the national roads with Mr. Pegloe, and
+      the religion of the Persian fire-worshipers with Mr. Bowen; he permitted
+      never a pause and they retired as the sheriff had done without sight of
+      the letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge's office became a perfect Mecca for the idle and the curious,
+      and while he overflowed with high-bred courtesy he had never seemed so
+      unapproachable&mdash;never so remote from matters of local and
+      contemporary interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you show 'em the letter?&rdquo; demanded Mr. Mahaffy, when they were
+      alone. &ldquo;Can't you see they are suffering for a sight of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All in good time, Solomon.&rdquo; He became thoughtful. &ldquo;Solomon, I am thinking
+      of offering a reward for any information that will lead to the discovery
+      of my anonymous correspondent,&rdquo; he at length observed with a finely casual
+      air, as if the idea had just occurred to him, and had not been seething in
+      his brain all day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you go, Price&mdash;&rdquo; began Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon, this is no time for me to hang back. I shall offer a reward of
+      five thousand dollars for this information.&rdquo; The judge's tone was
+      resolute. &ldquo;Yes, sir, I shall make the figure commensurate with the
+      poignant grief I feel. He was my friend and client&mdash;&rdquo; The moisture
+      gathered in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should think that fifty dollars was nearer to being your figure,&rdquo;
+       suggested the cautious Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Inadequate and most insulting,&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, where do you expect to get five thousand dollars?&rdquo; cried Mahaffy in
+      a tone of absolute exasperation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where would I get fifty?&rdquo; inquired the judge mildly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For once Mahaffy frankly owned himself beaten. A gleam of admiration lit
+      up his glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Price, you have a streak of real greatness!&rdquo; he declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before the day was over it was generally believed that the judge was
+      wearing his gag with humility; interest in him declined, still the public
+      would have been grateful for a sight of that letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shucks, he's nothing but an old windbag!&rdquo; said Mr. Pegloe to a group of
+      loungers gathered before his tavern in the early evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he spoke, the judge's door opened and that gentleman appeared on his
+      threshold with a lighted candle in each hand. Glancing neither to the
+      right nor the left he passed out and up the street. Not a breath of wind
+      was blowing and the flames of the two candles burnt clear and strong,
+      lighting up his stately advance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the corner of the court-house green stood a row of locust hitching
+      posts. Two of these the judge decorated with his candles, next he measured
+      off fifteen paces, strides as liberal as he could make them without
+      sacrifice to his dignity; he scored a deep line in the dust with the heel
+      of his boot, toed it squarely, and drew himself up to his fullest height.
+      His right hand was seen to disappear under the frayed tails of his coat,
+      it reappeared and was raised with a movement quicker than the eye could
+      follow and a pistol shot rang out. One of the candles was neatly snuffed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge allowed himself a covert glance in the direction of the loungers
+      before the tavern. He was aware that a larger audience was assembling. A
+      slight smile relaxed the firm set of his lips. The remaining candle
+      sputtered feebly. The judge walked to the post and cleared the wick from
+      tallow with his thumb-nail. There was no haste in any of his movements;
+      his was the deliberation of conscious efficiency. Resuming his former
+      station back of the line he had drawn in the dusty road he permitted his
+      eye to gauge the distance afresh, then his hand was seen to pass deftly to
+      his left hip pocket, the long barrel of the rifle pistol was leveled, the
+      piece cracked, and the candle's yellow flame vanished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge pocketed his pistol, walked down the street, and with never a
+      glance toward the tavern reentered his house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning it was discovered that sometime during the night the
+      judge had tacked his anonymous communication on the court-house door; just
+      below it was another sheet of paper covered with bold script:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: Judge Slocum Price assumes that the above was
+      intended for him since he found it under his office door on the morning of
+      the twenty-fifth inst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judge Price begs leave to state it as his unqualified conviction that the
+      writer is a coward and a cur, and offers a reward of five thousand dollars
+      for any information that will lead to his identification.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judge Price has stated that he would conduct an intelligently directed
+      investigation of the Norton murder mystery without remuneration. He has
+      the honor to assure his friends that he is still willing to do so;
+      however, he takes this opportunity to warn the public that each day's
+      delay is a matter of the utmost gravity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Furthermore, judge Price avails himself on this occasion to say that he
+      has no wish to avoid personal conclusions with the murderers and
+      cutthroats who are terrorizing this community; on the contrary, he will
+      continue earnestly to seek such personal conclusions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV. THE CABIN ACROSS THE BAYOU
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Tom Ware was seated alone over his breakfast. He had left his bed as the
+      pale morning light crept across the great fields that were alike his pride
+      and his despair&mdash;what was the use of trying to sleep when sleep was
+      an impossibility! The memory of that tragedy at the church door was a
+      black horror to him; it gave substance to his dreams, it brought him awake
+      with writhing lips that voiced his fear in the dead stillness of the
+      night. The days were scarcely less terrible. Steeled and resolute as his
+      will could make him, he was not able to speak of what he had seen with
+      composure. Being as he was in this terribly perturbed state he had shirked
+      his morning toilet and presented a proportionately haggard and unkempt
+      appearance. He was about to quit the table when big Steve entered the room
+      to say there was a white fellow at the door wished to see him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fetch him along in here,&rdquo; said Ware briefly, without lifting his
+      bloodshot eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brought into his presence the white fellow delivered a penciled note which
+      proved to be from Murrell, and then on Ware's invitation partook of
+      whisky. When he was gone, the planter ordered his horse, and while he
+      waited for it to be brought up from the stables, reread Murrell's note.
+      The expression of his unprepossessing features indicated what was passing
+      in his mind, his mood was one of sullen rebellion. He felt Murrell was
+      bent on committing him to an aggregate of crime he would never have
+      considered possible, and all for love of a girl&mdash;a pink-cheeked,
+      white-faced chit of a girl&mdash;disgust boiled up within him, rage choked
+      him; this was the rotten spot in Murrell's make-up, the man was mad-stark
+      mad!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Ware rode away from Belle Plain he cursed him under his breath with
+      vindictive thoroughness. His own inclination toward evil was never very
+      robust; he could have connived and schemed over a long period of years to
+      despoil Betty of her property, he would have counted this a legitimate
+      field for enterprise; but murder and abduction was quite another thing. He
+      would wash his hands of all further connection with Murrell, he had other
+      things to lose besides Belle Plain, and the present would be as good a
+      time as any to let the outlaw know he could be coerced and bullied no
+      longer. But he had a saving recollection of the way in which Murrell dealt
+      with what he counted treachery; an unguarded word, and he would not dare
+      to travel those roads even at broad noon-day, while to pass before a
+      lighted window at night would be to invite death; nowhere would he be
+      safe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Three miles from Belle Plain he entered a bridle path that led toward the
+      river; he was now traversing a part of the Quintard tract. Two miles from
+      the point where he had quitted the main road he came out upon the shores
+      of a wide bayou. Looking across this he saw at a distance of half a mile
+      what seemed to be a clearing of considerable extent, it was the first sign
+      of human occupation he had seen since leaving Belle Plain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An impenetrable swamp defended the head of the bayou which he skirted.
+      Doubling back as though he were going to retrace his steps to Belle Plain,
+      finally he gained a position opposite the clearing which still showed
+      remotely across the wide reach of sluggish water. Here he dismounted and
+      tied his horse, then as one tolerably familiar with the locality and its
+      resources, he went down to the shore and launched a dugout which he found
+      concealed in some bushes; entering it he pointed its blunt bow in the
+      direction of the clearing opposite. A growth of small timber was still
+      standing along the water's edge, but as he drew nearer, those betterments
+      which the resident of that lonely spot had seen fit to make for his own
+      convenience, came under his scrutiny; these consisted of a log cabin and
+      several lesser sheds. Landing and securing his dug-out by the simple
+      expedient of dragging half its length out of the water, he advanced toward
+      the cabin. As he did so he saw two women at work heckling flax under an
+      open shed. They were the wife and daughter of George Hicks, his overseer's
+      brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Morning, Mrs. Hicks,&rdquo; he said, addressing himself to the mother, a
+      hulking ruffian of a woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Howdy, sir?&rdquo; she answered. Her daughter glanced indifferently in Ware's
+      direction. She was a fine strapping girl, giving that sense of physical
+      abundance which the planter admired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They'd better keep her out of Murrell's way!&rdquo; he thought; aloud he said,
+      &ldquo;Anybody with the captain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colonel Fentress is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; muttered Ware. He moved to the door of the cabin and pushing it
+      open, entered the room where Murrell and Fentress were seated facing each
+      other across the breakfast table. The planter nodded curtly. He had not
+      seen Murrell since the murder, and the sight of him quickened the spirit
+      of antagonism which he had been nursing. &ldquo;You roust a fellow out early
+      enough!&rdquo; he grumbled, rubbing his unshaven chin with the back of his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was afraid you'd be gone somewhere. Sit down&mdash;here, between the
+      colonel and me,&rdquo; said Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what the devil do you want of me anyhow?&rdquo; demanded the planter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How's your sister, Tom?&rdquo; inquired Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon she's the way you'd expect her to be.&rdquo; Ware dropped his voice to
+      a whisper. Those women were just the other side of the logs, he could hear
+      them at their work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's at Belle Plain now?&rdquo; continued Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bowen's wife and daughter have stayed,&rdquo; answered Ware, still in a
+      whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For how long, Tom? Do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They were to go home after breakfast this morning; the daughter's to come
+      out again to-morrow and stay with Betty until she leaves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that you're saying?&rdquo; cried Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's going back to North Carolina to those friends of hers; it's no
+      concern of mine, she does what she likes without consulting me.&rdquo; There was
+      a brief pause during which Murrell scowled at the planter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon your heart's tender, too!&rdquo; he presently said. Ware's dull glance
+      shifted to Fentress, but the colonel's cold and impassive exterior forbade
+      the thought that his sympathy had been roused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It isn't that,&rdquo; Ware muttered, moistening his lips. He felt the utter
+      futility of opposition. &ldquo;I am for letting things rest just where they
+      are,&rdquo; again his voice slid into a husky whisper. &ldquo;You'll be running all
+      our heads into a halter, the first thing you know&mdash;and this isn't any
+      place to talk over such matters, there are too many people about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's only Bess and the old woman busy outside,&rdquo; said Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's to hinder them from sticking an ear to a chink in the logs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on, and finish what you've got to say, and get it off your mind,&rdquo; said
+      Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, I want to tell you that I consider you didn't regard me at
+      all in the way you managed that business at the church! If I had known
+      what was due to happen there, do you think I'd have gone near the place?
+      But you let me go! I met you on the road and you told me you'd learned
+      Norton had been to see Bowen, you told me that much, but you didn't tell
+      me near all you might!&rdquo; Ware was bitter and resentful; again he felt the
+      sweat of a mortal terror drip from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was the best thing for you that it happened the way it did,&rdquo; rejoined
+      Murrell coolly. &ldquo;No one will ever think you had a hand in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It wasn't right! You placed me in the meanest kind of a situation,&rdquo;
+       objected Ware sullenly, mopping his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you think I was going to let the marriage take place? You knew he had
+      been warned to keep away from her,&rdquo; said Murrell. There was a movement
+      overhead in the loft, the loose clapboards with which it was floored
+      creaked under a heavy tread.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's that? Hicks?&rdquo; asked Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It isn't Hicks&mdash;never mind who it is, Tom,&rdquo; answered Murrell
+      quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you'd sent him out of the county?&rdquo; muttered Ware, his face
+      livid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, Tom, I don't ask your help, but I won't stand your
+      interference. I'm going to have the girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John, you'll ruin yourself with your damned crazy infatuation!&rdquo; It was
+      Fentress, no longer able to control himself, who spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I won't, Colonel, but I'm not going to discuss that. All I want is
+      for Tom to go to Memphis and stay there for a couple of days. When he
+      comes back Belle Plain and its niggers will be as good as his. I am going
+      to take the girl away from there to-night. I don't ask your help and you
+      needn't ask what comes of her afterward. That will be my affair.&rdquo;
+       Murrell's burning eyes shifted from one to the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A beautiful and accomplished young lady&mdash;a great heiress&mdash;is to
+      disappear and no solution of the mystery demanded by the public at large!&rdquo;
+       said Fentress with an acid smile. Murrell laughed contemptuously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's all this fuss over Norton's death amounted to?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure you have come to the end of that, John?&rdquo; inquired Fentress,
+      still smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't propose to debate this further,&rdquo; rejoined Murrell haughtily.
+      Instantly the colonel's jaw became rigid. The masterful airs of this
+      cutthroat out of the hills irked him beyond measure. Murrell turned to
+      Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How soon can you get away from here, Tom?&rdquo; he asked abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By God, I can't go too soon!&rdquo; cried the planter, staggering to his feet.
+      He gave Fentress a hopeless beaten look. &ldquo;You're my witness that first and
+      last I've no part in this!&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel merely shrugged his shoulders. Murrell reached out a detaining
+      hand and rested it on Ware's arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep your wits about you, Tom, and within a week people will have
+      forgotten all about Norton and your sister. I am going to give them
+      something else to worry over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware went from the cabin, and as the door swung shut Fentress faced
+      Murrell across the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've gone as far with you in this affair as I can go; after all, as you
+      say, it is a private matter. You reap the benefits&mdash;you and Tom
+      between you&mdash;I shall give you a wide berth until you come to your
+      senses. Frankly, if you think that in this late day in the world you can
+      carry off an unwilling girl, your judgment is faulty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold on, Colonel&mdash;how do you know she is going to prove unwilling?&rdquo;
+       objected Murrell, grinning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fentress gave him a glance of undisguised contempt and rose from his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I admit your past successes, John&mdash;that is, I take your word for
+      them&mdash;but Miss Malroy is a lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard enough!&rdquo; said Murrell angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So have I, John,&rdquo; retorted the colonel in a tone that was unvexed but
+      final, &ldquo;and I shall count it a favor if you will never refer to her in my
+      hearing.&rdquo; He moved in the direction of the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you and I are not going to lose our tempers over this!&rdquo; began
+      Murrell. &ldquo;Come, sit down again, Colonel!&rdquo; he concluded with great good
+      nature.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall never agree, John&mdash;you have one idea and I another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll let the whole matter drop out of our talk. Look here, how about the
+      boy&mdash;are you ready for him if I can get my hands on him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fentress considered. From the facts he had gathered he knew that the man
+      who called himself Judge Price must soon run his course in Raleigh, and
+      then as inevitably push out for fresh fields. Any morning might find him
+      gone and the boy with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't take him to my place as I had intended doing; under the
+      circumstances that is out of the question,&rdquo; he said at length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course; but I'll send him either up or down the river and place him in
+      safe keeping where you can get him any time you want.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This must be done without violence, John!&rdquo; stipulated Fentress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, I understand that perfectly well. It wouldn't suit your
+      schemes to have that brace of old sots handled by the Clan. Which shall it
+      be&mdash;up or down river?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Could you take care of him for me below, at Natchez?&rdquo; inquired Fentress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As well there as anywhere, Colonel, and he'll pass into safe hands; he
+      won't give me the slip the second time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good!&rdquo; said Fentress, and took his leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the window Murrell watched him cross the clearing, followed by the
+      girl, Bess, who was to row him over to the opposite shore. He reflected
+      that these men&mdash;the Wares and Fentresses and their like&mdash;were
+      keen enough where they had schemes of their own they wished put through;
+      it was only when he reached out empty hands that they reckoned the
+      consequences.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Three-quarters of an hour slipped by, then, piercing the silence, Murrell
+      heard a shrill whistle; it was twice repeated; he saw Bess go down to the
+      landing again. A half-hour elapsed and a man issued from the scattering
+      growth of bushes that screened the shore. The new-comer crossed the
+      clearing and entered the cabin. He was a young fellow of twenty-four or
+      five, whose bronzed and sunburnt face wore a somewhat reckless expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Captain, what's doing?&rdquo; he asked, as he shook hands with Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've been waiting for you, Hues,&rdquo; said Murrell. He continued, &ldquo;I reckon
+      the time's here when nothing will be gained by delay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hues dropped down on a three-legged stool and looked at the outlaw fixedly
+      and in silence for a moment. At length he nodded understandingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If anything's to be done, now is the time. What have you to report?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I've seen the council of each Clan division. They are ripe to start
+      this thing off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell gave him a moment of moody regard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twice already I've named the day and hour, but now I'm going to put it
+      through!&rdquo; He set his teeth and thrust out his jaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain, you're the greatest fellow in America! Inside of a week men who
+      have never been within five hundred miles of you will be asking each other
+      who John Murrell is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell had expected to part with Hues then and there and for all time,
+      but Hues possessed qualities which might still be of use to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you expect to do for yourself?&rdquo; he demanded. The other laughed
+      shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain, I'm going to get rich while I have the chance. Ain't that what
+      we are all after?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo; inquired Murrell quietly. Hues shifted his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sensitive about calling things by their short names;&rdquo; he gave way to
+      easy laughter; &ldquo;but if you've got anything special you're saving for
+      yourself, I'm free to say I'd rather take chances with you than with
+      another,&rdquo; he finished carelessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hues, you must start back across Tennessee. Make it Sunday at midnight&mdash;that's
+      three days off.&rdquo; Unconsciously his voice sank to a whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sunday at midnight,&rdquo; repeated Hues slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you have passed the word into middle Tennessee, turn south and make
+      the best of your way to New Orleans. Don't stop for anything&mdash;push
+      through as fast as you can. You'll find me there. I've a notion you and I
+      will quit the country together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quit the country! Why, Captain, who's talking of quitting the country?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You speak as though you were fool enough to think the niggers would
+      accomplish something!&rdquo; said Murrell coolly. &ldquo;There will be confusion at
+      first, but there are enough white men in the southwest to handle a heap
+      better organized insurrection than we'll be able to set going. Our fellows
+      will have to use their heads as well as their hands or they are likely to
+      help the nigger swallow his medicine. I look for nothing else than
+      considerable of a shake-up along the Mississippi... what with lynchers and
+      regulators a man will have to show a clean bill of health to be allowed to
+      live, no matter what his color&mdash;just being white won't help him any!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you're right, it won't!&rdquo; and again Hues gave way to easy laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you've done your work you strike south as I tell you and join me.
+      I'm going to keep New Orleans for myself&mdash;it's my ambition to destroy
+      the city Old Hickory saved!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then it's change your name and strike out for Texas with what you've
+      picked up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, it isn't! I'll have my choice of men&mdash;a river full of ships.
+      Look here, there's South America, or some of those islands in the gulf
+      with a black-and-tan population and a few white mongrels holding on to
+      civilization by their eye-teeth; what's to hinder our setting up shop for
+      ourselves? Two or three hundred Americans could walk off with an island
+      like Hayti, for instance&mdash;and it's black with niggers. What we'd done
+      here would be just so much capital down there. We'd make it a
+      stamping-ground for the Clan! In the next two years we could bring in a
+      couple of thousand Americans and then we'd be ready to take over their
+      government, whether they liked it or not, and run it at a profit. We'd put
+      the niggers back in slavery where they belong, and set them at work
+      raising sugar and tobacco for their new bosses. Man, it's the richest land
+      in the world, I tell you&mdash;and the mountains are full of gold!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hues had kindled with a ready enthusiasm while Murrell was speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That sounds right, Captain&mdash;we'd have a country and a flag of our
+      own&mdash;and I look at those free niggers as just so much boot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall take only picked men with me&mdash;I can't give ship room to any
+      other&mdash;but I want you. You'll join me in New Orleans?&rdquo; said Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When do you start south?&rdquo; asked Hues quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Inside of two days. I've got some private business to settle before I
+      leave. I'll hang round here until that's attended to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV. THE JUDGE EXTENDS HIS CREDIT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      That afternoon Judge Price walked out to Belle Plain. Solomon Mahaffy had
+      known that this was a civility Betty Malroy could by no means escape. He
+      had been conscious of the judge's purpose from the moment it existed in
+      the germ state, and he had striven to divert him, but his striving had
+      been in vain, for though the judge valued Mr. Mahaffy because of certain
+      sterling qualities which he professed to discern beneath the hard crust
+      that made up the external man, he was not disposed to accept him as his
+      mentor in nice matters of taste and gentlemanly feeling. He owed it to
+      himself personally to tender his sympathy. Miss Malroy must have heard
+      something of the honorable part he had played; surely she could not be in
+      ignorance of the fact that the lawless element, dreading his further
+      activities, had threatened him. She must know, too, about that reward of
+      five thousand dollars. Certainly her grief could not blind her to the fact
+      that he had met the situation with a largeness of public spirit that was
+      an impressive lesson to the entire community.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These were all points over which he and Mahaffy had wrangled, and he felt
+      that his friend, in seeking to keep him away from Belle Plain, was
+      standing squarely in his light. He really could not understand Solomon or
+      his objections. He pointed out that Norton had probably left a will&mdash;no
+      one knew yet&mdash;probably his estate would go to his intended wife&mdash;what
+      more likely? He understood Norton had cousins somewhere in middle
+      Tennessee&mdash;there was the attractive possibility of extended
+      litigation. Miss Malroy needed a strong, clear brain to guide her past
+      those difficulties his agile fancy assembled in her path. He beamed on his
+      friend with a wide sunny smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean she needs a lawyer, Price?&rdquo; insinuated Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That slap at me, Solomon, is unworthy of you. Just name some one, will
+      you, who has shown an interest comparable to mine? I may say I have
+      devoted my entire energy to her affairs, and with disinterestedness. I
+      have made myself felt. Will you mention who else these cutthroats have
+      tried to browbeat and frighten? They know that my theories and conclusions
+      are a menace to them! I got 'em in a panic, sir&mdash;presently some
+      fellow will lose his nerve and light out for the tall timber&mdash;and it
+      will be just Judge Slocum Price who's done the trick&mdash;no one else!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you looking for some one to take a pot shot at you?&rdquo; inquired Mahaffy
+      sourly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your remark uncovers my fondest hope, Solomon&mdash;I'd give five years
+      of my life just to be shot at&mdash;that would round out the episode of
+      the letter nicely;&rdquo; again the judge beamed on Mahaffy with that wide and
+      sunny smile of his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you let the boy go alone, Price?&rdquo; suggested Mahaffy. He lacked
+      that sense of sublime confidence in the judge's tact and discretion of
+      which the judge, himself, entertained never a doubt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall not obtrude myself, Solomon; I shall merely walk out to Belle
+      Plain and leave a civil message. I know what's due Miss Malroy in her
+      bereaved state&mdash;she has sustained no ordinary loss, and in no
+      ordinary fashion. She has been the center of a striking and profoundly
+      moving tragedy! I would give a good deal to know if my late client left a
+      will&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You might ask her,&rdquo; said Mahaffy cynically. &ldquo;Nothing like going to
+      headquarters for the news!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon, Solomon, give me credit for common sense&mdash;go further, and
+      give me credit for common decency! Don't let us forget that ever since we
+      came here she has manifested a charmingly hospitable spirit where we are
+      concerned!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wouldn't charity hit nearer the mark, Price?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never so regarded it, Solomon,&rdquo; said the judge mildly. &ldquo;I have
+      read a different meaning in the beef and flour and potatoes she's sent
+      here. I expect if the truth could be known to us she is wondering in the
+      midst of her grief why I haven't called, but she'll appreciate the
+      considerate delicacy of a gentleman. I wish it were possible to get cut
+      flowers in this cussed wilderness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge had been occupied with a simple but ingenious toilet. He had
+      trimmed the frayed skirts of, his coat; then by turning his cuffs inside
+      out and upside down a fresh surface made its first public appearance. Next
+      his shoes had engaged his attention. They might have well discouraged a
+      less resolute and resourceful character, but with the contents of his
+      ink-well he artfully colored his white yarn socks where they showed though
+      the rifts in the leather. This the judge did gaily, now humming a snatch
+      of song, now listening civilly to Mahaffy, now replying with undisturbed
+      cheerfulness. Last of all he clapped his dingy beaver on his head, giving
+      it an indescribably jaunty slant, and stepped to the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, wish me luck, Solomon, I'm off&mdash;come, Hannibal!&rdquo; he said. At
+      heart he cherished small hope of seeing Betty, advantageous as he felt an
+      interview might prove. However, on reaching Belle Plain he and Hannibal
+      were shown into the cool parlor by little Steve. It was more years than
+      the judge cared to remember since he had put his foot inside such a house,
+      but with true grandeur of soul he rose to the occasion; a sublimated
+      dignity shone from every battered feature, while he fixed little Steve
+      with so fierce a glance that the grin froze on his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are to say that judge Slocum Price presents his compliments and
+      condolences to Miss Malroy&mdash;have you got that straight, you pinch of
+      soot?&rdquo; he concluded affably. Little Steve, impressed alike by the judge's
+      air of condescension and his easy flow of words, signified that he had.
+      &ldquo;You may also say that judge Price's ward, young Master Hazard, presents
+      his compliments and condolences&mdash;&rdquo; What more the judge might have
+      said was interrupted by the entrance of Betty, herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear young lady&mdash;&rdquo; the judge bowed, then he advanced toward her
+      with the solemnity of carriage and countenance he deemed suitable to the
+      occasion, and her extended hand was engulfed between his two plump palms.
+      He rolled his eyes heavenward. &ldquo;It's the Lord's to deal with us as His own
+      inscrutable wisdom dictates,&rdquo; he murmured with pious resignation. &ldquo;We are
+      all poorer, ma'am, that he has died&mdash;just as we were richer while he
+      lived!&rdquo; The rich cadence of the judge's speech fell sonorously on the
+      silence, and that look of horror which had never quite left Betty's eyes
+      since they saw Charley Norton fall, rose out of their clear depths again.
+      The judge, instantly stricken with a sense of the inadequacy of his words,
+      doubled on his spiritual tracks. &ldquo;In a round-about way, ma'am, we're bound
+      to believe in the omnipresence of Providence&mdash;we must think it&mdash;though
+      a body might be disposed to hold that west Tennessee had got out of the
+      line of divine supervision recently. Let me lead you to a chair, ma'am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal had slipped to Betty's side and placed his hand in hers. The
+      judge regarded the pair with great benevolence of expression. &ldquo;He would
+      come, and I hadn't the heart to forbid it. If I can be of any service to
+      you, ma'am, either in the capacity of a friend&mdash;or professionally&mdash;I
+      trust you will not hesitate to command me&mdash;&rdquo; The judge backed toward
+      the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you walk out, Judge Price?&rdquo; asked Betty kindly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing more than a healthful exercise&mdash;but we will not detain you,
+      ma'am; the pleasure of seeing you is something we had not reckoned on!&rdquo;
+       The judge's speech was thick and unctuous with good feeling. He wished
+      that Mahaffy might have been there to note the reserve and dignity of his
+      deportment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you must let me order luncheon for you,&rdquo; said Betty. At least this
+      questionable old man was good to Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't think of it, ma'am&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll have a glass of wine, then,&rdquo; urged Betty hospitably. For the
+      moment she had lost sight of what was clearly the judge's besetting sin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge paused abruptly. He endured a moment of agonizing irresolution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the advice of my physician I dare not touch wine&mdash;gout, ma'am,
+      and liver&mdash;but this restriction does not apply to corn whisky&mdash;in
+      moderation, and as a tonic&mdash;either before meals, immediately after
+      meals or at any time between meals&mdash;always keeping in mind the idea
+      of its tonic properties&mdash;&rdquo; The judge seemed to mellow and ripen. This
+      was much better than having the dogs sicked on you! His manner toward
+      Betty became almost fatherly. Poor young thing, so lonely and desolate in
+      the midst of all this splendor&mdash;he surreptitiously wiped away a tear,
+      and when little Steve presented himself and was told to bring whisky,
+      audibly smacked his lips&mdash;a whole lot better, surely!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry you think you must hurry away, Judge Price,&rdquo; said Betty. She
+      still retained the small brown hand Hannibal had thrust into hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The eastern mail gets in to-day, ma'am, and I have reason to think my
+      share of it will be especially heavy, for it brings the bulk of my
+      professional correspondence.&rdquo; In ten years the judge had received just one
+      communication by mail&mdash;a bill which had followed him through four
+      states and seven counties. &ldquo;I expect my secretary&mdash;&rdquo; boldly fixing
+      Solomon Mahaffy's status, &ldquo;is already dipping into it; an excellent
+      assistant, ma'am, but literary rather than legal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Little Steve reappeared bearing a silver tray on which was a decanter and
+      glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Since you insist, ma'am,&rdquo; the judge poured himself a drink, &ldquo;my best
+      respects&mdash;&rdquo; he bowed profoundly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you are quite willing, judge, I think I will keep Hannibal. Miss
+      Bowen, who has been here&mdash;since&mdash;&rdquo; her voice broke suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand, ma'am,&rdquo; said the judge soothingly. He gave her a glance of
+      great concern and turned to Hannibal. &ldquo;Dear lad, you'll be very quiet and
+      obedient, and do exactly as Miss Malroy says? When shall I come for him,
+      ma'am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll send him to you when he is ready to go home. I am thinking of
+      visiting my friends in North Carolina, and I should like to have him spend
+      as much time as possible with me before I start for the East.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It had occurred to Betty that she had done little or nothing for the
+      child; probably this would be her last opportunity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The state of the judge's feelings was such that with elaborate absence of
+      mind he poured himself a second drink of whisky; and that there should be
+      no doubt the act was one of inadvertence, said again, &ldquo;My best respects,
+      ma'am,&rdquo; and bowed as before. Putting down the glass he backed toward the
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust you will not hesitate to call upon me if I can be of any use to
+      you, ma'am&mdash;a message will bring me here without a moment's delay.&rdquo;
+       He was rather disappointed that no allusion had been made to his recent
+      activities. He reasoned correctly that Betty was as yet in ignorance of
+      the somewhat dangerous eminence he had achieved as the champion of law and
+      order. However, he reflected with satisfaction that Hannibal, in
+      remaining, would admirably serve his ends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty insisted that he should be driven home, and after faintly
+      protesting, the judge gracefully yielded the point, and a few moments
+      later rolled away from Belle Plain behind a pair of sleek-coated bays,
+      with a negro in livery on the box. He was conscious of a great sense of
+      exaltation. He felt that he should paralyze Mahaffy. He even temporarily
+      forgot the blow his hopes had sustained when Betty spoke of returning to
+      North Carolina. This was life&mdash;broad acres and niggers&mdash;principally
+      to trot after you toting liquor&mdash;and such liquor!&mdash;he lolled
+      back luxuriantly with half-closed eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twenty years in the wood if an hour!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;I'd like to have just
+      such a taste in my mouth when I come to die&mdash;and probably she has
+      barrels of it!&rdquo; he sighed deeply, and searched his soul for words with
+      which adequately to describe that whisky to Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But why not do more than paralyze Solomon&mdash;that would be pleasant but
+      not especially profitable. The judge came back quickly to the vexed
+      problem of his future. He desired to make some striking display of Miss
+      Malroy's courtesy. He knew that his credit was experiencing the pangs of
+      an early mortality; he was not sensitive, yet for some days he had been
+      sensible of the fact that what he called the commercial class was viewing
+      him with open disfavor, but he must hang on in Raleigh a little longer&mdash;for
+      him it had become the abode of hope. The judge considered the matter. At
+      least he could let people see something of that decent respect with which
+      Miss Malroy treated him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were entering Raleigh now, and he ordered the coachman to pull his
+      horses down to a walk. He had decided to make use of the Belle Plain
+      turnout in creating an atmosphere of confidence and trust&mdash;especially
+      trust. To this end he spent the best part of an hour interviewing his
+      creditors. It amounted almost to a mass-meeting of the adult male
+      population, for he had no favorites. When he invaded virgin territory he
+      believed in starting the largest possible number of accounts without
+      delay. The advantage of his system, as he explained its workings to
+      Mahaffy, was that it bred a noble spirit of emulation. He let it be known
+      in a general way that things were looking up with him; just in what
+      quarter he did not specify, but there he was, seated in the Belle Plain
+      carriage and the inference was unavoidable that Miss Malroy was to
+      recognize his activities in a substantial manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy, loafing away the afternoon in the county clerk's office, heard of
+      the judge's return. He heard that Charley Norton had left a will; that
+      Thicket Point went to Miss Malroy; that the Norton cousins in middle
+      Tennessee were going to put up a fight; that Judge Price had been retained
+      as counsel by Miss Malroy; that he was authorized to begin an independent
+      search for Charley Norton's murderer, and was to spare no expense; that
+      Judge Price was going to pay his debts. Mahaffy grinned at this and
+      hurried home. He could believe all but the last, that was the crowning
+      touch of unreality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge explained the situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn't withhold hope from any man, Solomon; it's the cheapest thing
+      in the world and the one thing we are most miserly about extending to our
+      fellows. These people all feel better&mdash;and what did it cost me?&mdash;just
+      a little decent consideration; just the knowledge of what the unavoidable
+      associations of ideas in their own minds would do for them!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      What had seemed the corpse of credit breathed again, and the judge and
+      Mahaffy immediately embarked upon a characteristic celebration. Early
+      candlelight found them making a beginning; midnight came&mdash;the gray
+      and purple of dawn&mdash;and they were still at it, back of closed doors
+      and shuttered windows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI. BETTY LEAVES BELLE PLAIN
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal had devoted himself loyally to the judge's glorification, and
+      Betty heard all about the letter, the snuffing of the candles and the
+      reward of five thousand dollars. It vastly increased the child's sense of
+      importance and satisfaction when he discovered she had known nothing of
+      these matters until he told her of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, where would Judge Price get so much money, Hannibal?&rdquo; she asked,
+      greatly astonished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He won't have to get it, Miss Betty; Mr. Mahaffy says he don't reckon no
+      one will ever tell who wrote the letter&mdash;he 'lows the man who done
+      that will keep pretty mum&mdash;he just dassent tell!&rdquo; the boy explained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I suppose not&mdash;&rdquo; and Betty saw that perhaps, after all, the
+      judge had not assumed any very great financial responsibility. &ldquo;He can't
+      be a coward, though, Hannibal!&rdquo; she added, for she understood that the
+      risk of personal violence which he ran was quite genuine. She had formed
+      her own unsympathetic estimate of him that day at Boggs' race-track;
+      Mahaffy in his blackest hour could have added nothing to it. Twice since
+      then she had met him in Raleigh, which had only served to fix that first
+      impression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Betty, he's just like my Uncle Bob was&mdash;he ain't afraid of
+      nothing! He totes them pistols of his&mdash;loaded&mdash;if you notice
+      good you can see where they bulge out his coat!&rdquo; Hannibal's eyes, very
+      round and big, looked up into hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he as poor as he seems, Hannibal?&rdquo; inquired Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He never has no money, Miss Betty, but I don't reckon he's what a body
+      would call pore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It might have baffled a far more mature intelligence than Hannibal's to
+      comprehend those peculiar processes by which the judge sustained himself
+      and his intimate fellowship with adversity&mdash;that it was his
+      magnificence of mind which made the squalor of his daily life seem merely
+      a passing phase&mdash;but the boy had managed to point a delicate
+      distinction, and Betty grasped something of the hope and faith which never
+      quite died out in Slocum Price's indomitable breast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you always have enough to eat, dear?&rdquo; she questioned anxiously.
+      Hannibal promptly reassured her on this point. &ldquo;You wouldn't let me think
+      anything that was not true, Hannibal&mdash;you are quite sure you have
+      never been hungry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never, Miss Betty; honest!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty gave a sigh of relief. She had been reproaching herself for her
+      neglect of the child; she had meant to do so much for him and had done
+      nothing! Now it was too late for her personally to interest herself in his
+      behalf, yet before she left for the East she would provide for him. If she
+      had felt it was possible to trust the judge she would have made him her
+      agent, but even in his best aspect he seemed a dubious dependence. Tom,
+      for quite different reasons, was equally out of the question. She thought
+      of Mr. Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What kind of a man is Mr. Mahaffy, Hannibal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's an awful nice man, Miss Betty, only he never lets on; a body's got
+      to find it out for his own self&mdash;he ain't like the judge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he&mdash;drink, too, Hannibal?&rdquo; questioned Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes; when he can get the licker, he does.&rdquo; It was evident that
+      Hannibal was cheerfully tolerant of this weakness on the part of the
+      austere Mahaffy. By this time Betty was ready to weep over the child, with
+      his knowledge of shabby vice, and his fresh young faith in those old
+      tatterdemalions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, no matter what they do, they are very, very kind to you?&rdquo; she
+      continued quite tremulously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am&mdash;why, Miss Betty, they're lovely men!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do you ever hear the things spoken of you learned about at Mrs.
+      Ferris' Sunday-school?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When the judge is drunk he talks a heap about 'em. It's beautiful to hear
+      him then; you'd love it, Miss Betty,&rdquo; and Hannibal smiled up sweetly into
+      her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he have you go to Sunday-school in Raleigh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't got no clothes that's fitten to wear, nor no pennies to give, but
+      the judge, he 'lows that as soon as he can make a raise I got to go, and
+      he's learning me my letters&mdash;but we ain't a book. Miss Betty, I
+      reckon it'd stump you some to guess how he's fixed it for me to learn?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's drawn the letters for you, is that the way?&rdquo; In spite of herself,
+      Betty was experiencing a certain revulsion of feeling where the judge and
+      Mahaffy were concerned. They were doubtless bad enough, but they could
+      have been worse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma'am; he done soaked the label off one of Mr. Pegloe's whisky
+      bottles and pasted it on the wall just as high as my chin, so's I can see
+      it good, and he's learning me that-a-ways! Maybe you've seen the kind of
+      bottle I mean&mdash;Pegloe's Mississippi Pilot: Pure Corn Whisky?&rdquo; But
+      Hannibal's bright little face fell. He was quick to see that the
+      educational system devised by the judge did not impress Betty at all
+      favorably. She drew him into her arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall have my books&mdash;the books I learned to read out of when I
+      was a little girl, Hannibal!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like learning from the label pretty well,&rdquo; said Hannibal loyally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you'll like the books better, dear, when you see them. I know just
+      where they are, for I happened on them on a shelf in the library only the
+      other day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After they had found and examined the books and Hannibal had grudgingly
+      admitted that they might possess certain points of advantage over the
+      label, he and Betty went out for a walk. It was now late afternoon and the
+      sun was sinking behind the wall of the forest that rose along the Arkansas
+      coast. Their steps had led them to the terrace where they stood looking
+      off into the west. It was here that Betty had said good-by to Bruce
+      Carrington&mdash;it might have been months ago, and it was only days. She
+      thought of Charley&mdash;Charley, with his youth and hope and high courage&mdash;unwittingly
+      enough she had led him on to his death! A sob rose in her throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal looked up into her face. The memory of his own loss was never
+      very long absent from his mind, and Miss Betty had been the victim of a
+      similarly sinister tragedy. He recalled those first awful days of
+      loneliness through which he had lived, when there was no Uncle Bob&mdash;soft-voiced,
+      smiling and infinitely companionable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Hannibal, you are crying&mdash;what about, dear?&rdquo; asked Betty
+      suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma'am; I ain't crying,&rdquo; said Hannibal stoutly, but his wet lashes
+      gave the lie to his words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you homesick&mdash;do you wish to go back to the judge and Mr.
+      Mahaffy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma'am&mdash;it ain't that&mdash;I was just thinking&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thinking about what, dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About my Uncle Bob.&rdquo; The small face was very wistful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;and you still miss him so much, Hannibal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I bet I do&mdash;I reckon anybody who knew Uncle Bob would never get over
+      missing him; they just couldn't, Miss Betty! The judge is mighty kind, and
+      so is Mr. Mahaffy&mdash;they're awful kind, Miss Betty, and it seems like
+      they get kinder all the time&mdash;but with Uncle Bob, when he liked you,
+      he just laid himself out to let you know it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That does make a great difference, doesn't it?&rdquo; agreed Betty sadly, and
+      two piteous tearful eyes were bent upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you reckon if Uncle Bob is alive, like the judge says, and he's
+      ever going to find me, he had ought to be here by now?&rdquo; continued Hannibal
+      anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it hasn't been such a great while, Hannibal; it's only that so much
+      has happened to you. If he was very badly hurt it may have been weeks
+      before he could travel; and then when he could, perhaps he went back to
+      that tavern to try to learn what had become of you. But we may be quite
+      certain he will never abandon his search until he has made every possible
+      effort to find you, dear! That means he will sooner or later come to west
+      Tennessee, for there will always be the hope that you have found your way
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sometimes I get mighty tired waiting, Miss Betty,&rdquo; confessed the boy.
+      &ldquo;Seems like I just couldn't wait no longer.&rdquo; He sighed gently, and then
+      his face cleared. &ldquo;You reckon he'll come most any time, don't you, Miss
+      Betty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Hannibal; any day or hour!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoop!&rdquo; muttered Hannibal softly under his breath. Presently he asked:
+      &ldquo;Where does that branch take you to?&rdquo; He nodded toward the bayou at the
+      foot of the terraced bluff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It empties into the river,&rdquo; answered Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal saw a small skiff beached among the cottonwoods that grew along
+      the water's edge and his eyes lighted up instantly. He had a juvenile
+      passion for boats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you got a boat, ain't you, Miss Betty?&rdquo; This was a charming and an
+      important discovery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you like to go down to it?&rdquo; inquired Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Deed I would! Does she leak any, Miss Betty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know about that. Do boats usually leak, Hannibal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you ain't ever been out rowing in her, Miss Betty, have you?&mdash;and
+      there ain't no better fun than rowing a boat!&rdquo; They had started down the
+      path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I used to think that, too, Hannibal; how do you suppose it is that when
+      people grow up they forget all about the really nice things they might
+      do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What use is she if you don't go rowing in her?&rdquo; persisted Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but it is used. Mr. Tom uses it in crossing to the other side where
+      they are clearing land for cotton. It saves him a long walk or ride about
+      the head of the bayou.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like I should take you out in her, Miss Betty?&rdquo; demanded Hannibal with
+      palpitating anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had entered the scattering timber when Betty paused suddenly with a
+      startled exclamation, and Hannibal felt her fingers close convulsively
+      about his. The sound she had heard might have been only the rustling of
+      the wind among the branches overhead in that shadowy silence, but Betty's
+      nerves, the placid nerves of youth and perfect health, were shattered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't you hear something, Hannibal?&rdquo; she whispered fearfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For answer Hannibal pointed mysteriously, and glancing in the direction he
+      indicated, Betty saw a woman advancing along the path toward them. The
+      look of alarm slowly died out of his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think it's the overseer's niece,&rdquo; she told Hannibal, and they kept on
+      toward the boat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl came rapidly up the path, which closely followed the irregular
+      line of the shore in its windings. Once she was seen to stop and glance
+      back over her shoulder, her attitude intent and listening, then she
+      hurried forward again. Just by the boat the three met.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good evening!&rdquo; said Betty pleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl made no reply to this; she merely regarded Betty with a fixed
+      stare. At length she broke silence abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got something I want to say to you&mdash;you know who I am, I reckon?&rdquo;
+       She was a girl of about Betty's own age, with a certain dark, sullen
+      beauty and that physical attraction which Tom, in spite of his vexed mood,
+      had taken note of earlier in the day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are Bess Hicks,&rdquo; said Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Make the boy go back toward the house a spell&mdash;I got something I
+      want to say to you.&rdquo; Betty hesitated. She was offended by the girl's
+      manner, which was as rude as her speech. &ldquo;I ain't going to hurt you&mdash;you
+      needn't be afraid of me, I got something important to say&mdash;send him
+      off, I tell you; there ain't no time to lose!&rdquo; The girl stamped her foot
+      impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty made a sign to Hannibal and he passed slowly back along the path. He
+      went unwillingly, and he kept his head turned that he might see what was
+      done, even if he were not to hear what was said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Hannibal&mdash;wait there&mdash;don't go any farther!&rdquo;
+       Betty called after him when he had reached a point sufficiently distant to
+      be out of hearing of a conversation carried on in an ordinary tone. &ldquo;Now,
+      what is it? Speak quickly if you have anything to tell me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got a heap to say,&rdquo; answered the girl with a scowl. Her manner was
+      still fierce and repellent, and she gave Betty a certain jealous regard
+      out of her black eyes which the latter was at a loss to explain. &ldquo;Where's
+      Mr. Tom?&rdquo; she demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tom? Why, about the place, I suppose&mdash;in his office, perhaps.&rdquo; So it
+      had to do with Tom.... Betty felt sudden disgust with the situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he ain't about the place, either! He done struck out for Memphis two
+      hours after sun-up, and what's more, he ain't coming back here to-night&mdash;&rdquo;
+       There was a moment of silence. The girl looked about apprehensively. She
+      continued, fixing her black eyes on Betty: &ldquo;You're here alone at Belle
+      Plain&mdash;you know what happened when Mr. Tom started for Memphis last
+      time? I reckon you-all ain't forgot that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty felt a pallor steal over her face. She rested a hand that shook on
+      the trunk of a tree to steady herself. The girl laughed shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be so scared; I reckon Belle Plain's as good as his if anything
+      happened to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      By a great effort Betty gained a measure of control over herself. She took
+      a step nearer and looked the girl steadily in the face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps you will stop this sort of talk, and tell me what is going to
+      happen to me&mdash;if you know?&rdquo; she said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you reckon Mr. Norton was shot? I can tell you why&mdash;it was
+      all along of you&mdash;that was why!&rdquo; The girl's furtive glance, which
+      searched and watched the gathering shadows, came back as it always did to
+      Betty's pale face. &ldquo;You ain't no safer than he was, I tell you!&rdquo; and she
+      sucked in her breath sharply between her full red lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; faltered Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you reckon you're safe here in the big house alone? Why do you reckon
+      Mr. Tom cleared out for Memphis? It was because he couldn't be around and
+      have anything happen to you&mdash;that was why!&rdquo; and the girl sank her
+      voice to a whisper. &ldquo;You quit Belle Plain now&mdash;to-night&mdash;just as
+      soon as you can!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is absurd&mdash;you are trying to frighten me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did they stop with trying to frighten Charley Norton?&rdquo; demanded Bess with
+      harsh insistence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whatever the promptings that inspired this warning, they plainly had
+      nothing to do with either liking or sympathy. Her dominating emotion
+      seemed to be a sullen sort of resentment which lit up her glance with a
+      dull fire; yet her feelings were so clearly and so keenly personal that
+      Betty understood the motive that had brought her there. The explanation,
+      she found, left her wondering just where and how her own fate was linked
+      with that of this poor white.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been waiting some time to see me?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ever since along about noon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were afraid to come to the house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't want to be seen there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet you knew I was alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alone&mdash;but how do you know who's watching the place?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think there was reason to be afraid of that?&rdquo; asked Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the girl stamped her foot with angry impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're just wastin' time&mdash;just foolin' it away&mdash;and you ain't
+      got none to spare!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must tell me what I have to fear&mdash;I must know more or I shall
+      stay just where I am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, stay!&rdquo; The girl turned away, and then as quickly turned back
+      and faced Betty once more. &ldquo;I reckon he'd kill me if he knew&mdash;I
+      reckon I've earned that already&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of whom are you speaking?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'll have you away from here to-night!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He?... who?... and what if I refuse to go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did they ask Charley Norton whether he wanted to live or die?&rdquo; came the
+      sinister question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A shiver passed through Betty. She was seeing it all again&mdash;Charley
+      as he groped among the graves with the hand of death heavy upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A moment later she was alone. The girl had disappeared. There was only the
+      shifting shadows as the wind tossed the branches of the trees, and the
+      bands of golden light that slanted along the empty path. The fear of the
+      unknown leaped up afresh in Betty's soul, in an instant her flying feet
+      had borne her to the boy's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come&mdash;come quick, Hannibal!&rdquo; she gasped out, and seized his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it, Miss Betty? What's the matter?&rdquo; asked Hannibal as they fled
+      panting up the terraces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know&mdash;only we must get away from here just as soon as we
+      can!&rdquo; Then, seeing the look of alarm on the child's face, she added more
+      quietly, &ldquo;Don't be frightened, dear, only we must go away from Belle Plain
+      at once.&rdquo; But where they were to go, she had not considered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Reaching the house, they stole up to Betty's room. Her well-filled purse
+      was the important thing; that, together with some necessary clothing, went
+      into a small hand-bag.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must carry this, Hannibal; if any one sees us leave the house they'll
+      think it something you are taking away,&rdquo; she explained. Hannibal nodded
+      understandingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you trust your niggers, Miss Betty?&rdquo; he whispered as they went from
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I only trust you, dear!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What makes you go? Was it something that woman told you? Are they coming
+      after us, Miss Betty? Is it Captain Murrell?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain Murrell?&rdquo; There was less of mystery now, but more of terror, and
+      her hand stole up to her heart, and, white and slim, rested against the
+      black fabric of her dress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you be scared, Miss Betty!&rdquo; said Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They went silently from the house and again crossed the lawn to the
+      terrace. Under the leafy arch which canopied them there was already the
+      deep purple of twilight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you reckon it were Captain Murrell shot Mr. Norton, Miss Betty?&rdquo; asked
+      Hannibal in a shuddering whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush&mdash;Oh, hush, Hannibal! It is too awful to even speak of&mdash;&rdquo;
+       and, sobbing and half hysterical, she covered her face with her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But where are we going, Miss Betty?&rdquo; asked the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, dear!&rdquo; she had an agonizing sense of the night's approach
+      and of her own utter helplessness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll tell you what, Miss Betty, let's go to the judge and Mr. Mahaffy!&rdquo;
+       said Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judge Price?&rdquo; She had not thought of him as a possible protector.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Miss Betty, ain't I told you he ain't afraid of nothing? We could
+      walk to Raleigh easy if you don't want your niggers to hook up a team for
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty suddenly remembered the carriage which had taken the judge into
+      town; she was sure it had not yet returned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will go to the judge, Hannibal! George, who drove him into Raleigh,
+      has not come back; if we hurry we may meet him on the road.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Screened by the thick shadows, they passed up the path that edged the
+      bayou; at the head of the inlet they entered a clearing, and crossing this
+      they came to the corn-field which lay between the house and the highroad.
+      Following one of the shock rows they hurried to the mouth of the lane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hannibal, I don't want to tell the judge why I am leaving Belle Plain&mdash;about
+      the woman, I mean,&rdquo; said Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You reckon they'd kill her, don't you, Miss Betty, if they knew what
+      she'd done?&rdquo; speculated the boy. It occurred to him that an adequate
+      explanation of their flight would require preparation, since the judge was
+      at all times singularly alive to the slightest discrepancy of statement.
+      They had issued from the cornfield now and were going along the road
+      toward Raleigh. Suddenly Betty paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hark!&rdquo; she whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It were nothing, Miss Betty,&rdquo; said Hannibal reassuringly, and they
+      hurried forward again. In the utter stillness through which they moved
+      Betty heard the beating of her own heart, and the soft, and all but
+      inaudible patter of the boy's bare feet on the warm dust of the road.
+      Vague forms that resolved themselves into trees and bushes seemed to creep
+      toward them out of the night's black uncertainty. Once more Betty paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It were nothing, Miss Betty,&rdquo; said Hannibal as before, and he returned to
+      his consideration of the judge. He sensed something of that intellectual
+      nimbleness which his patron's physical make-up in nowise suggested, since
+      his face was a mask that usually left one in doubt as to just how much of
+      what he heard succeeded in making its impression on him; but the boy knew
+      that Slocum Price's blind side was a shelterless exposure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't think the carriage could have passed us while we were crossing
+      the corn-field?&rdquo; said Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I reckon we couldn't a-missed hearing it,&rdquo; answered Hannibal. He had
+      scarcely spoken when they caught the rattle of wheels and the beat of
+      hoofs. These sounds swept nearer and nearer, and then the darkness
+      disgorged the Belle Plain team and carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;George!&rdquo; cried Betty, a world of relief in her tones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoa, you!&rdquo; and George reined in his horses with a jerk. &ldquo;Who's dar?&rdquo; he
+      asked, bending forward on the box as he sought to pierce the darkness with
+      his glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;George&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it you, Missy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I wish you to drive me into Raleigh,&rdquo; said Betty, and she and
+      Hannibal entered the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, Missy. Yo'-all ready fo' me to go along out o' here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;drive fast, George!&rdquo; urged Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's right dark fo' fas' drivin' Missy, with the road jes' aimin' fo' to
+      bus' yo' springs with chuckholes!&rdquo; He had turned his horses' heads in the
+      direction of Raleigh while he was speaking. &ldquo;It's scandalous black in
+      these heah woods, Missy I 'clar' I never seen it no blacker!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The carriage swung forward for perhaps a hundred yards, then suddenly the
+      horses came to a dead stop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go along on, dar!&rdquo; cried George, and struck them with his whip, but the
+      horses only reared and plunged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold on, nigger!&rdquo; said a rough voice out of the darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What yo' doin'?&rdquo; the coachman gasped. &ldquo;Don' yo' know dis de Belle Plain
+      carriage? Take yo' han's offen to dem hosses' bits!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Two men stepped to the side of the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Show your light, Bunker,&rdquo; said the same rough voice that had spoken
+      before. Instantly a hooded lantern was uncovered, and Hannibal uttered a
+      cry of terror. He was looking into the face of Slosson, the tavern-keeper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII. PRISONERS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In the face of Betty's indignant protest Slosson and the man named Bunker
+      climbed into the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you be scared, ma'am,&rdquo; said the tavernkeeper, who smelt strongly of
+      whisky. &ldquo;I wouldn't lift my hand ag'in no good looking female except in
+      kindness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How dare you stop my carriage?&rdquo; cried Betty, with a very genuine anger
+      which for the moment dominated all her other emotions. She struggled to
+      her feet, but Slosson put out a heavy hand and thrust her back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There now,&rdquo; he urged soothingly. &ldquo;Why make a fuss? We ain't going to harm
+      you; we wouldn't for no sum of money. Drive on, Jim&mdash;drive like
+      hell!&rdquo; This last was addressed to the man who had taken George's place on
+      the box, where a fourth member of Slosson's band had forced the coachman
+      down into the narrow space between the seat and dashboard, and was holding
+      a pistol to his head while he sternly enjoined silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a word to the horses Jim swung about and the carriage rolled off
+      through the night at a breakneck' pace. Betty's shaking hands drew
+      Hannibal closer to her side as she felt the surge of her terrors rise
+      within her. Who were these men&mdash;where could they be taking her&mdash;and
+      for what purpose? The events of the past weeks linked themselves in tragic
+      sequence in her mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What was it she had to fear? Was it Tom who had inspired Norton's murder?
+      Was it Tom for whom these men were acting? Tom who would profit greatly by
+      her disappearance or death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They swept past the entrance at Belle Plain, past a break in the wall of
+      the forest where the pale light of stars showed Betty the corn-field she
+      and Hannibal had but lately crossed, and then on into pitchy darkness
+      again. She clung to the desperate hope that they might meet some one on
+      the road, when she could cry out and give the alarm. She held herself in
+      readiness for this, but there was only the steady pounding of the big bays
+      as Jim with voice and whip urged them forward. At last he abruptly checked
+      them, and Bunker and Slosson sprang from their seats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get down, ma'am!&rdquo; said the latter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you taking me?&rdquo; asked Betty, in a voice that shook in spite of
+      her efforts to control it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must hurry, ma'am,&rdquo; urged Slosson impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won't move until I know where you intend taking me!&rdquo; said Betty, &ldquo;If I
+      am to die&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Slosson laughed loudly and indulgently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ain't. If you don't want to walk, I'm man enough fo' to tote you. We
+      ain't far to go, and I've tackled jobs I'd a heap less heart fo' in my
+      time,&rdquo; he concluded gallantly. From the opposite side of the carriage
+      Bunker swore nervously. He desired to know if they were to stand there
+      talking all night. &ldquo;Shut your filthy mouth, Bunker, and see you keep tight
+      hold of that young rip-staver,&rdquo; said Slosson. &ldquo;He's a perfect eel&mdash;I've
+      had dealings with him afore!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You tried to kill my Uncle Bob&mdash;at the tavern, you and Captain
+      Murrell. I heard you, and I seen you drag him to the river!&rdquo; cried
+      Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slosson gave a start of astonishment at this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, ain't he hateful?&rdquo; he exclaimed aghast. &ldquo;See here, young feller,
+      that's no kind of a way fo' you to talk to a man who has riz his ten
+      children!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Bunker swore, while Jim told Slosson to make haste. This popular
+      clamor served to recall the tavernkeeper to a sense of duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ma'am, like I should tote you, or will you walk?&rdquo; he inquired, and
+      reaching out his hand took hold of Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll walk,&rdquo; said the girl quickly, shrinking from the contact.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep close at my heels. Bunker, you tuck along after her with the boy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about this nigger?&rdquo; asked the fourth man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fetch him along with us,&rdquo; said Slosson. They turned from the road while
+      he was speaking and entered a narrow path that led off through the woods,
+      apparently in the direction of the river. A moment later Betty heard the
+      carriage drive away. They went onward in silence for a little time, then
+      Slosson spoke over his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am, I've riz ten children but none of 'em was like him&mdash;I
+      trained 'em up to the minute!&rdquo; Mr. Slosson seemed to have passed
+      completely under the spell of his domestic recollections, for he continued
+      with just a touch of reminiscent sadness in his tone. &ldquo;There was all told
+      four Mrs. Slossons: two of 'em was South Carolinians, one was from
+      Georgia, and the last was a widow lady out of east Tennessee. She'd buried
+      three husbands and I figured we could start perfectly even.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The intrinsic fairness of this start made its strong appeal. Mr. Slosson
+      dwelt upon it with satisfaction. &ldquo;She had three to her credit, I had three
+      to mine; neither could crow none over the other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As they stumbled forward through the thick obscurity he continued his
+      personal revelations, the present enterprise having roused whatever there
+      was of sentiment slumbering in his soul. At last they came out on a wide
+      bayou; a white mist hung above it, and on the low shore leaf and branch
+      were dripping with the night dews. Keeping close to the water's edge
+      Slosson led the way to a point where a skiff was drawn up on the bank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Step in, ma'am,&rdquo; he said, when he had launched it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will go no farther!&rdquo; said Betty in desperation. She felt an
+      overmastering fear, the full horror of the unknown lay hold of her, and
+      she gave a piercing cry for help. Slosson swung about on his heel and
+      seized her. For a moment she struggled to escape, but the man's big hands
+      pinioned her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more of that!&rdquo; he warned, then he recovered himself and laughed. &ldquo;You
+      could yell till you was black in the face, ma'am, and there'd be no one to
+      hear you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you taking me?&rdquo; and Betty's voice faltered between the sudden
+      sobs that choked her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just across to George Hicks's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For what purpose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll know in plenty of time.&rdquo; And Slosson leered at her through the
+      darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hannibal is to go with me?&rdquo; asked Betty tremulously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure!&rdquo; agreed Slosson affably. &ldquo;Your nigger, too&mdash;quite a party.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty stepped into the skiff. She felt her hopes quicken&mdash;she was
+      thinking of Bess; whatever the girl's motives, she had wished her to
+      escape. She would wish it now more than ever since the very thing she had
+      striven to prevent had happened. Slosson seated himself and took up the
+      oars, Bunker followed with Hannibal and they pushed off. No word was
+      spoken until they disembarked on the opposite shore, when Slosson
+      addressed Bunker. &ldquo;I reckon I can manage that young rip-staver, you go
+      back after Sherrod and the nigger,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He conducted his captives up the bank and they entered a clearing. Looking
+      across this Betty saw where a cabin window framed a single square of
+      light. They advanced toward this and presently the dark outline of the
+      cabin itself became distinguishable. A moment later Slosson paused, a door
+      yielded to his hand, and Betty and the boy were thrust into the room where
+      Murrell had held his conference with Fentress and Ware. The two women were
+      now its only occupants and the mother, gross and shapeless, turned an
+      expressionless face on the intruders; but the daughter shrank into the
+      shadow, her burning glance fixed on Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's yo' guests, old lady!&rdquo; said Mr. Slosson. Mrs. Hicks rose from the
+      three-legged stool on which she was sitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hand me the candle, Bess,&rdquo; she ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At one side of the room was a steep flight of stairs which gave access to
+      the loft overhead. Mrs. Hicks, by a gesture, signified that Betty and
+      Hannibal were to ascend these stairs; they did so and found themselves on
+      a narrow landing inclosed by a partition of rough planks, this partition
+      was pierced by a low door. Mrs. Hicks, who had followed close at their
+      heels, handed the candle to Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In yonder!&rdquo; she said briefly, nodding toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait!&rdquo; cried Betty in a whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the woman with an almost masculine surliness of tone. &ldquo;I got
+      nothing to say.&rdquo; She pushed them into the attic, and, closing the door,
+      fastened it with a stout wooden bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beyond that door, which seemed to have closed on every hope, Betty held
+      the tallow dip aloft, and by its uncertain and flickering light surveyed
+      her prison. The briefest glance sufficed. The room contained two shakedown
+      beds and a stool, there was a window in the gable, but a piece of heavy
+      plank was spiked before it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Betty, don't you be scared,&rdquo; whispered Hannibal. &ldquo;When the judge
+      hears we're gone, him and Mr. Mahaffy will try to find us. They'll go
+      right off to Belle Plain&mdash;the judge is always wanting to do that,
+      only Mr. Mahaffy never lets him but now he won't be able to stop him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Hannibal, Hannibal, what can he do there&mdash;what can any one do
+      there?&rdquo; And a dead pallor overspread the girl's face. To speak of the
+      blind groping of her friends but served to fix the horror of their
+      situation in her mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, Miss Betty, but the judge is always thinking of things to
+      do; seems like they was mostly things no one else would ever think of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty had placed the candle on the stool and seated herself on one of the
+      beds. There was the murmur of voices in the room below; she wondered if
+      her fate was under consideration and what that fate was to be. Hannibal,
+      who had been examining the window, returned to her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Betty, if we could just get out of this loft we could steal their
+      skiff and row down to the river; I reckon they got just the one boat; the
+      only way they could get to us would be to swim out, and if they done that
+      we could pound 'em over the head with the oars the least little thing
+      sinks you when you're in the water.&rdquo; But this murderous fancy of his
+      failed to interest Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently they heard Sherrod and Bunker come up from the shore with
+      George. Slosson joined them and there was a brief discussion, then an
+      interval of silence, and the sound of voices again as the three white men
+      moved back across the field in the direction of the bayou. There succeeded
+      a period of utter stillness, both in the cabin and in the clearing, a
+      somber hush that plunged Betty yet deeper in despair. Wild thoughts
+      assailed her, thoughts against which she struggled with all the strength
+      of her will.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In that hour of stress Hannibal was sustained by his faith in the judge.
+      He saw his patron's powerful and picturesque intelligence applied to
+      solving the mystery of their disappearance from Belle Plain; it was
+      inconceivable that this could prove otherwise than disastrous to Mr.
+      Slosson and he endeavored to share the confidence he was feeling with
+      Betty, but there was something so forced and unnatural in the girl's voice
+      and manner when she discussed his conjectures that he quickly fell into an
+      awed silence. At last, and it must have been some time after midnight,
+      troubled slumbers claimed him. No moment of forgetfulness came to Betty.
+      She was waiting for what&mdash;she did not know! The candle burnt lower
+      and lower and finally went out and she was left in darkness, but again she
+      was conscious of sounds from the room below. At first it was only a word
+      or a sentence, then the guarded speech became a steady monotone that ran
+      deep into the night; eventually this ceased and Betty fancied she heard
+      sobs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length points of light began to show through chinks in the logs.
+      Hannibal roused and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wasn't you able to sleep none?&rdquo; he inquired. Betty shook her head. He
+      looked at her with an expression of troubled concern. &ldquo;How soon do you
+      reckon the judge will know?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very soon now, dear.&rdquo; Hannibal was greatly consoled by this opinion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Betty, he will love to find us&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hark! What was that?&rdquo; for Betty had caught the distant splash of oars.
+      Hannibal found a chink in the logs through which by dint of much squinting
+      he secured a partial view of the bayou. &ldquo;They're fetching up a keel boat
+      to the shore, Miss Betty&mdash;it's a whooper!&rdquo; he announced. Betty's
+      heart sank, she never doubted the purpose for which that boat was brought
+      into the bayou, or that it nearly concerned herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Half an hour later Mrs. Hicks appeared with their breakfast. It was in
+      vain that Betty attempted to engage her in conversation, either she
+      cherished some personal feeling of dislike for her prisoner, or else the
+      situation in which she herself was placed had little to recommend it, even
+      to her dull mind, and her dissatisfaction was expressed in her attitude
+      toward the girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty passed the long hours of morning in dreary speculation concerning
+      what was happening at Belle Plain. In the end she realized that the day
+      could go by and her absence occasion no alarm; Steve might reasonably
+      suppose George had driven her into Raleigh or to the Bowens' and that she
+      had kept the carriage. Finally all her hope centered on Judge Price. He
+      would expect Hannibal during the morning, perhaps when the boy did not
+      arrive he would be tempted to go out to Belle Plain to discover the reason
+      of his nonappearance. She wondered what theories would offer themselves to
+      his ingenious mind, for she sensed something of that indomitable energy
+      which in the face of rebuffs and laughter carried him into the thick of
+      every sensation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At noon, Mrs. Hicks, as sullen as in the morning, brought them their
+      dinner. She had scarcely quitted the loft when a shrill whistle pierced
+      the silence that hung above the clearing. It was twice repeated, and the
+      two women were heard to go from the cabin. Perhaps half an hour elapsed,
+      then a step became audible on the packed earth of the dooryard; some one
+      entered the room below and began to ascend the narrow stairs, and Betty's
+      fingers closed convulsively about Hannibal's. This was neither Mrs. Hicks
+      nor her daughter, nor Slosson with his clumsy shuffle. There was a brief
+      pause when the landing was reached, but it was only momentary; a hand
+      lifted the bar, the door was thrown open, and its space framed the figure
+      of a man. It was John Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Standing there he regarded Betty in silence, but a deep-seated fire glowed
+      in his sunken eyes. The sense of possession was raging through him, his
+      temples throbbed, a fever stirred his blood. Love, such as it was, he
+      undoubtedly felt for her and even his giant project with all its monstrous
+      ramifications was lost sight of for the moment. She was the inspiration
+      for it all, the goal and reward toward which he struggled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Betty!&rdquo; the single word fell softly from his lips. He stepped into the
+      room, closing the door as he did so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl's eyes were dilating with a mute horror, for by some swift
+      intuitive process of the mind, which asked nothing of the logic of events,
+      but dealt only with conclusions, Murrell stood revealed as Norton's
+      murderer. Perhaps he read her thoughts, but he had lived in his degenerate
+      ambitions until the common judgments or the understanding of them no
+      longer existed for him. That Betty had loved Norton seemed inconsequential
+      even; it was a memory to be swept away by the force of his greater
+      passion. So he watched her smilingly, but back of the smile was the menace
+      of unleashed impulse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't you find some word of welcome for me, Betty?&rdquo; he asked at length,
+      still softly, still with something of entreaty in his tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it was you&mdash;not Tom&mdash;who had me brought here!&rdquo; She could
+      have thanked God had it been Tom, whose hate was not to be feared as she
+      feared this man's love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tom&mdash;no!&rdquo; and Murrell laughed. &ldquo;You didn't think I'd give you up? I
+      am standing with a halter, about my neck, and all for your sake&mdash;who'd
+      risk as much for love of you?&rdquo; he seemed to expand with savage pride that
+      this was so, and took a step toward her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't come near me!&rdquo; cried Betty. Her eyes blazed, and she looked at him
+      with' loathing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll learn to be kinder,&rdquo; he exulted. &ldquo;You wouldn't see me at Belle
+      Plain; what was left for me but to have you brought here?&rdquo; While Murrell
+      was speaking, the signal that had told of his own presence on the opposite
+      shore of the bayou was heard again. This served to arrest his attention. A
+      look of uncertainty passed over his face, then he made an impatient
+      gesture as if he dismissed some thought that had forced itself upon him,
+      and turned to Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't ask what my purpose is where you are concerned; have you no
+      curiosity on that score?&rdquo; She endeavored to meet his glance with a glance
+      as resolute, then her eyes sought the boy's upturned face. &ldquo;I am going to
+      send you down river, Betty. Later I shall join you in New Orleans, and
+      when I leave the country you shall go with me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never!&rdquo; gasped Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As my wife, or however you choose to call it. I'll teach you what a man's
+      love is like,&rdquo; he boasted, and extended his hand. Betty shrank from him,
+      and his hand fell at his side. He looked at her steadily out of his
+      deep-sunk eyes in which blazed the fires of his passion, and as he looked,
+      her face paled and flushed by turns. &ldquo;You may learn to be kind to me,
+      Betty,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You may find it will be worth your while.&rdquo; Betty made no
+      answer, she only gathered Hannibal closer to her side. &ldquo;Why not accept
+      what I have to offer, Betty?&rdquo; again he went nearer her, and again she
+      shrank from him, but the madness of his mood was in the ascendant. He
+      seized her and drew her to him. She struggled to free herself, but his
+      fingers tightened about hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me go!&rdquo; she panted. He laughed his cool laugh of triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let you go&mdash;ask me anything but that, Betty! Have you no reward for
+      patience such as mine? A whole summer has passed since I saw you first&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was the noisy shuffling of feet on the stairs, and releasing Betty,
+      Murrell swung about on his heel and faced the door. It was pushed open an
+      inch at a time by a not too confident hand and Mr. Slosson thus guardedly
+      presented himself to the eye of his chief, whom he beckoned from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said Murrell, when they stood together on the landing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just come across to the keel boat!&rdquo; and Slosson led the way down the
+      stairs and from the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn you, Joe; you might have waited!&rdquo; observed the outlaw. Slosson gave
+      him a hardened grin. They crossed the clearing and boarded the keel boat
+      which rested against the bank. As they did so, the cabin in the stern gave
+      up a shattered presence in the shape of Tom Ware. Murrell started
+      violently. &ldquo;I thought you were hanging out in Memphis, Tom?&rdquo; he said, and
+      his brow darkened as, sinister and forbidding, he stepped closer to the
+      planter. Ware did not answer at once, but looked at Murrell out of heavy
+      bloodshot eyes, his face pinched and ghastly. At last he said, speaking
+      with visible effort,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I stayed in Memphis until five o'clock this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn your early hours!&rdquo; roared Murrell. &ldquo;What are you doing here? I
+      suppose you've been showing that dead face of yours about the neighborhood&mdash;why
+      didn't you stay at Belle Plain since you couldn't keep away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven't been near Belle Plain, I came here instead. How am I going to
+      meet people and answer questions?&rdquo; His teeth were chattering. &ldquo;Is it known
+      she's missing?&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hicks raised the alarm the first thing this morning, according to the
+      instructions I'd given him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes?&rdquo; gasped Ware. He was dripping from every pore and the sickly color
+      came and went on his unshaven cheeks. Murrell dropped a heavy hand on his
+      shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You haven't been at Belle Plain, you say, but has any one seen you on the
+      road this morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one, John,&rdquo; cried Ware, panting between each word. There was a
+      moment's pause and Ware spoke again. &ldquo;What are they doing at Belle Plain?&rdquo;
+       he demanded in a whisper. Murrell's lips curled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand there is talk of suicide,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good!&rdquo; cried Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are dragging the bayou down below the house. It looks as though you
+      were going to reap the rewards of the excellent management you have given
+      her estate. They have been trying to find you in Memphis, so the sooner
+      you show yourself the better,&rdquo; he concluded significantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are sure you have her safe, John, no chance of discovery? For God's
+      sake, get her away from here as soon as you can, it's an awful risk you
+      run!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She'll be sent down river to-night,&rdquo; said Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain,&rdquo; began Slosson who up to this had taken no part in the
+      conversation. &ldquo;When are you going to cross to t'other side of the bayou?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Soon,&rdquo; replied Murrell. Slosson laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't know but you'd clean forgot the Clan's business. I want to ask
+      another question&mdash;but first I want to say that no one thinks higher
+      or more frequent of the ladies than just me, I'm genuinely fond of 'em and
+      I've never lifted my hand ag'in' 'em except in kindness.&rdquo; Mr. Slosson
+      looked at Ware with an exceedingly virtuous expression of countenance. He
+      continued. &ldquo;Yo' orders are that we're to slip out of this a little afore
+      midnight, but suppose there's a hitch&mdash;here's the lady knowing what
+      she knows and here's the boy knowing what he knows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There can be no hitch,&rdquo; rasped out Murrell arrogantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never knew a speculation that couldn't go wrong; and by rights we
+      should have got away last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, whose fault is it you didn't?&rdquo; demanded Murrell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a manner it were mine, but the ark got on a sandbank as we were
+      fetching it in and it took us the whole damn night to get clear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; prompted Murrell, with a sullen frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose they get shut of that notion of theirs that the lady's done
+      drowned herself, suppose they take to watching the river? Or suppose the
+      whole damn bottom drops out of this deal? What then? Why, I'll tell you
+      what then&mdash;the lady, good looking as she is, knows enough to make
+      west Tennessee mighty onhealthy for some of us. I say suppose it's a flash
+      in the pan and you have to crowd the distance in between you and this part
+      of the world, you can't tell me you'll have any use for her then.&rdquo; Slosson
+      paused impressively. &ldquo;And here's Mr. Ware feeling bad, feeling like hell,&rdquo;
+       he resumed. &ldquo;Him and me don't want to be left in no trap with you gone God
+      only knows where.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll send a man to take charge of the keel boat. I can't risk any more of
+      your bungling, Joe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all right, but you don't answer my question,&rdquo; persisted Slosson,
+      with admirable tenacity of purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is your question, Joe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A lot can happen between this and midnight&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If things go wrong with us there'll be a blaze at the head of the bayou;
+      does that satisfy you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about the girl?&rdquo; insisted Slosson, dragging him back to the point at
+      issue between them. &ldquo;As a man I wouldn't lift my hand ag'in' no good
+      looking woman except like I said&mdash;in kindness, but she can't be
+      turned loose, she knows too much. What's the word, Captain&mdash;you say
+      it!&rdquo; he urged. He made a gesture of appeal to Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look for the light; better still, look for the man I'll send.&rdquo; And with
+      this Murrell would have turned away, but Slosson detained him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who'll he be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some fellow who knows the river.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if it's the light?&rdquo; asked the tavern-keeper in a hoarse undertone.
+      Again he looked toward Ware, who, dry-lipped and ashen, was regarding him
+      steadfastly. Glance met glance, for a brief instant they looked deep into
+      each other's eyes and then the hand Slosson had rested on Murrell's
+      shoulder dropped at his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII. THE JUDGE MEETS THE SITUATION
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The judge's and Mr. Mahaffy's celebration of the former's rehabilitated
+      credit had occupied the shank of the evening, the small hours of the
+      night, and that part of the succeeding day which the southwest described
+      as soon in the morning; and as the stone jug, in which were garnered the
+      spoils of the highly confidential but entirely misleading conversation
+      which the judge had held with Mr. Pegloe after his return from Belle
+      Plain, lost in weight, it might have been observed that he and Mr. Mahaffy
+      seemed to gain in that nice sense of equity which should form the basis of
+      all human relations. The judge watched Mr. Mahaffy, and Mr. Mahaffy
+      watched the judge, each trustfully placing the regulation of his private
+      conduct in the hands of his friend, as the one most likely to be affected
+      by the rectitude of his acts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Probably so extensive a consumption of Mr. Pegloe's corn whisky had never
+      been accomplished with greater highmindedness. They honorably split the
+      last glass, the judge scorning to set up any technical claim to it as his
+      exclusive property; then he stared at Mahaffy, while Mahaffy, dark-visaged
+      and forbidding, stared back at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge sighed deeply. He took up the jug and inverted it. A stray drop
+      or so fell languidly into his glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try squeezing it, Price,&rdquo; said Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge shook the jug, it gave forth an empty sound, and he sighed
+      again; he attempted to peer into it, closing one watery eye as he tilted
+      it toward the light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder no Yankee has ever thought to invent a jug with a glass bottom,&rdquo;
+       he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What for?&rdquo; asked Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You astonish me, Solomon,&rdquo; exclaimed the judge. &ldquo;Coming as you do from
+      that section which invented the wooden nutmeg, and an eight-day clock that
+      has been known to run as much as four or five hours at a stretch. I am
+      aware the Yankees are an ingenious people; I wonder none of 'em ever
+      thought of a jug with a glass bottom, so that when a body holds it up to
+      the light he can see at a glance whether it is empty or not. Do you reckon
+      Pegloe has sufficient confidence to fill the jug again for us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mahaffy's expression indicated no great confidence in Mr. Pegloe's
+      confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Credit,&rdquo; began the judge, &ldquo;is proverbially shy; still it may sometimes be
+      increased, like the muscles of the body and the mental faculties, by
+      judicious use. I've always regarded Pegloe as a cheap mind. I hope I have
+      done him an injustice.&rdquo; He put on his hat, and tucking the jug under his
+      arm, went from the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ten or fifteen minutes elapsed. Mahaffy considered this a good sign, it
+      didn't take long to say no, he reflected. Another ten or fifteen elapsed.
+      Mahaffy lost heart. Then there came a hasty step beyond the door, it was
+      thrown violently open, and the judge precipitated himself into the room. A
+      glance showed Mahaffy that he was laboring under intense excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon, I bring shocking news. God knows what the next few hours may
+      reveal!&rdquo; cried the judge, mopping his brow. &ldquo;Miss Malroy has disappeared
+      from Belle Plain, and Hannibal has gone with her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where have they gone?&rdquo; asked Mahaffy, and his long jaw dropped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would to God I had an answer ready for that question, Solomon!&rdquo; answered
+      the judge, with a melancholy shake of the head. He gazed down on his
+      friend with an air of large tolerance. &ldquo;I am going to Belle Plain, but you
+      are too drunk. Sleep it off, Solomon, and join me when your brain is clear
+      and your legs steady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy jerked out an oath, and lifting himself off his chair, stood
+      erect. He snatched up his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stuff your pistols into your pockets, and come on, Price!&rdquo; he said, and
+      stalked toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He flitted up the street, and the judge puffed and panted in his wake.
+      They gained the edge of the village without speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is mystery and rascality here!&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you know, Price, and where did you hear this?&rdquo; Mahaffy shot the
+      question back over his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At Pegloe's, the Belle Plain overseer had just fetched the news into
+      town.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again they were silent, all their energies being absorbed by the physical
+      exertion they were making. The road danced before their burning eyes, it
+      seemed to be uncoiling itself serpentwise with hideous undulations. Mr.
+      Mahaffy was conscious that the judge, of whom he caught a blurred vision
+      now at his right side, now at his left, was laboring painfully in the heat
+      and dust, the breath whistling from between his parched lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're just ripe for apoplexy, Price!&rdquo; he snarled, moderating his pace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; said the judge, with stolid resolution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two miles out of the village they came to a roadside spring, here they
+      paused for an instant. Mahaffy scooped up handfuls of the clear water and
+      sucked it down greedily. The judge dropped on his stomach and buried his
+      face in the tiny pool, gulping up great thirsty swallows. After a long
+      breathless instant he stood erect, with drops of moisture clinging to his
+      nose and eyebrows. Mahaffy was a dozen paces down the road, hurrying
+      forward again with relentless vigor. The judge shuffled after him. The
+      tracks they left in the dust crossed and re-crossed the road, but
+      presently the slanting lines of their advance straightened, the judge
+      gained and held a fixed place at Mahaffy's right, a step or so in the
+      rear. His oppulent fancy began to deal with the situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If anything happens to the child, the man responsible for it would better
+      never been born&mdash;I'll pursue him with undiminished energy from this
+      moment forth!&rdquo; he panted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What could happen to him, Price?&rdquo; asked Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God knows, poor little lad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you shut up!&rdquo; cried Mahaffy savagely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you go building on that idea? Why should any one harm him&mdash;what
+      earthly purpose&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tell you, Solomon, we are the pivotal point in a vast circle of crime.
+      This is a blow at me&mdash;this is revenge, sir, neither more nor less!
+      They have struck at me through the boy, it is as plain as day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did the overseer say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just that they found Miss Malroy gone from Belle Plain this morning, and
+      the boy with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is like you, Price! How do you know they haven't spent the night at
+      some neighbor's?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The nearest neighbor is five or six miles distant. Miss Malroy and
+      Hannibal were seen along about dusk in the grounds at Belle Plain, do you
+      mean to tell me you consider it likely that they set out on foot at that
+      hour, and without a word to any one, to make a visit?&rdquo; inquired the judge;
+      but Mahaffy did not contend for this point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do first, Price?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have a look over the grounds, and talk with the slaves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's the brother&mdash;wasn't he at Belle Plain last night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems he went to Memphis yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They plodded forward in silence; now and again they were passed by some
+      man on horseback whose destination was the same as their own, and then at
+      last they caught sight of Belle Plain in its grove of trees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All work on the plantation had stopped, and the hundreds of slaves&mdash;men,
+      women and children&mdash;were gathered about the house. Among these moved
+      the members of the dominant race. The judge would have attached himself to
+      the first group, but he heard a whispered question, and the answer,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Malroy's lawyer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Clearly it was not for him to mix with these outsiders, these curiosity
+      seekers. He crossed the lawn to the house, and mounted the steps. In the
+      doorway was big Steve, while groups of men stood about in the hall, the
+      hum of busy purposeless talk pervading the place. The judge frowned. This
+      was all wrong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has Mr. Ware returned from Memphis?&rdquo; he asked of Steve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Sah; not yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then show me into the library,&rdquo; said the judge with bland authority,
+      surrendering his hat to the butler. &ldquo;Come along, Mahaffy!&rdquo; he added. They
+      entered the library, and the judge motioned Steve to close the door. &ldquo;Now,
+      boy, you'll kindly ask those people to withdraw&mdash;you may say it is
+      Judge Price's orders. Allow no one to enter the house unless they have
+      business with me, or as I send for them&mdash;you understand? After you
+      have cleared the house, you may bring me a decanter of corn whisky&mdash;stop
+      a bit&mdash;you may ask the sheriff to step here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Sah.&rdquo; And Steve withdrew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge drew an easy-chair up to the flat-topped desk that stood in the
+      center of the room, and seated himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going to make this the excuse for another drunk, Price? If so, I
+      feel the greatest contempt for you,&rdquo; said Mahaffy sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge winced at this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have made a regrettable choice of words, Solomon,&rdquo; he urged gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's your feeling for the boy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here!&rdquo; said the judge, with an eloquent gesture, resting his hand on his
+      heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you let whisky alone, I'll believe you, otherwise what I have said
+      must stand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door opened, and the sheriff slouched into the room. He was chewing a
+      long wheat straw, and his whole appearance was one of troubled weakness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Morning,&rdquo; he said briefly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, Sheriff,&rdquo; and the judge indicated a meek seat for the official
+      in a distant corner. &ldquo;Have you learned anything?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sheriff shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you turning all these neighbors out of doors for?&rdquo; he questioned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We don't want people tracking in and out the house, Sheriff. Important
+      evidence may be destroyed. I propose examining the slaves first&mdash;does
+      that meet with your approval?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I've talked with them, they don't know nothing,&rdquo; said the sheriff.
+      &ldquo;No one don't know nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please God, we may yet put our fingers on some villain who does,&rdquo; said
+      the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outside it was noised about that judge Price had taken matters in hand&mdash;he
+      was the old fellow who had been warned to keep his mouth shut, and who had
+      never stopped talking since. A crowd collected beyond the library windows
+      and feasted its eyes on the back of this hero's bald head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One by one the house servants were ushered into the judge's presence.
+      First he interrogated little Steve, who had gone to Miss Betty's door that
+      morning to rouse her, as was his custom. Next he examined Betty's maid;
+      then the cook, and various house servants, who had nothing especial to
+      tell, but told it at considerable length; and lastly big Steve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop a bit,&rdquo; the judge suddenly interrupted the butler in the midst of
+      his narrative. &ldquo;Does the overseer always come up to the house the first
+      thing in the morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, not exactly, Sah, but he come up this mo'ning, Sah. He was talking
+      to me at the back of the house, when the women run out with the word that
+      Missy was done gone away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He joined in the search?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Sah.''
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When was Miss Malroy seen last?&rdquo; asked the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She and the young gemman you fotched heah were seen in the gyarden along
+      about sundown. I seen them myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They had had supper?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Sah.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who sleeps here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just little Steve and three of the women, they sleeps at the back of the
+      house, Sah.''
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No sounds were heard during the night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Sah.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll see the overseer&mdash;what's his name?&mdash;Hicks? Suppose you go
+      for him!&rdquo; said the judge, addressing the sheriff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sheriff was gone from the room only a few moments, and returned with
+      the information that Hicks was down at the bayou, which was to be dragged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; inquired the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hicks says Miss Malroy's been acting mighty queer ever since Charley
+      Norton was shot&mdash;distracted like! He says he noticed it, and that Tom
+      Ware noticed it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How does he explain the boy's disappearance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He reckons she throwed herself in, and the boy tried to drag her out,
+      like he naturally would, and got drawed in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! I'll trouble Mr. Hicks to step here,&rdquo; said the judge quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's Mr. Carrington and a couple of strangers outside who've been
+      asking about Miss Malroy and the boy, seems like the strangers knowed her
+      and him back yonder in No'th Carolina,&rdquo; said the sheriff as he turned
+      away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll see them.&rdquo; The sheriff went from the room and the judge dismissed
+      the servants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what do you think, Price?&rdquo; asked Mahaffy anxiously when they were
+      alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rubbish! Take my word for it, Solomon, this blow is leveled at me. I have
+      been too forward in my attempts to suppress the carnival of crime that is
+      raging through west Tennessee. You'll observe that Miss Malroy disappeared
+      at a moment when the public is disposed to think she has retained me as
+      her legal adviser, probably she will be set at liberty when she agrees to
+      drop the matter of Norton's murder. As for the boy, they'll use him to
+      compel my silence and inaction.&rdquo; The judge took a long breath. &ldquo;Yet there
+      remains one point where the boy is concerned that completely baffles me.
+      If we knew just a little more of his antecedents it might cause me to make
+      a startling and radical move.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy was clearly not impressed by the vague generalities in which the
+      judge was dealing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you go, Price, as usual, trying to convince yourself that you are
+      the center of everything!&rdquo; he said, in a tone of much exasperation. &ldquo;Let's
+      get down to business! What does this man Hicks mean by hinting at suicide?
+      You saw Miss Malroy yesterday?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have put your finger on a point of some significance,&rdquo; said the
+      judge. &ldquo;She bore evidence of the shock and loss she had sustained; aside
+      from that she was quite as she has always been.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what do you want to see Hicks for? What do you expect to learn from
+      him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't like his insistence on the idea that Miss Malroy is mentally
+      unbalanced. It's a question of some delicacy&mdash;the law, sir, fully
+      recognizes that. It seems to me he is overanxious to account for her
+      disappearance in a manner that can compromise no one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here they were interrupted by the opening of the door, and big Steve
+      admitted Carrington and the two men of whom the sheriff had spoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A shocking condition of affairs, Mr. Carrington!&rdquo; said the judge by way
+      of greeting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Carrington shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You left these parts some time ago, I believe?&rdquo; continued the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The day before Norton was shot. I had started home for Kentucky. I heard
+      of his death when I reached Randolph on the second bluff,&rdquo; explained
+      Carrington, from whose cheeks the weather-beaten bloom had faded. He
+      rested his hand on the edge of the desk and turned to the men who had
+      followed him into the room. &ldquo;This is the gentleman you wish to see,&rdquo; he
+      said, and stepped to one of the windows; it overlooked the terraces where
+      he had said good-by to Betty scarcely a week before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men had paused by the door. They now advanced. One was gaunt and
+      haggard, his face disfigured by a great red scar, the other was a
+      shockheaded individual who moved with a shambling gait. Both carried
+      rifles and both were dressed in coarse homespun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Morning, sir,&rdquo; said the man with the scar. &ldquo;Yancy's my name, and this
+      gentleman 'lows he'd rather be known now as Mr. Cavendish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge started to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bob Yancy?&rdquo; he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, that's me.&rdquo; The judge passed nimbly around the desk and shook
+      the Scratch Hiller warmly by the hand. &ldquo;Where's my nevvy, sir&mdash;what's
+      all this about him and Miss Betty?&rdquo; Yancy's soft drawl was suddenly eager.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please God we'll recover him soon!&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By the window Carrington moved impatiently. No harm could come to the boy,
+      but Betty&mdash;a shudder went through him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They've stolen him.&rdquo; Yancy spoke with conviction. &ldquo;I reckon they've
+      started back to No'th Carolina with him&mdash;only that don't explain
+      what's come of Miss Betty, does it?&rdquo; and he dropped rather helplessly into
+      a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bob are just getting off a sick bed. He's been powerful porely in
+      consequence of having his head laid open and then being throwed into the
+      Elk River, where I fished him out,&rdquo; explained Cavendish, who still
+      continued to regard the judge with unmixed astonishment, first cocking his
+      shaggy head on one side and then on the other, his bleached eyes narrowed
+      to a slit. Now and then he favored the austere Mahaffy with a fleeting
+      glance. He seemed intuitively to understand the comradeship of their
+      degradation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cavendish fetched me here on his raft. We tied up to the sho' this
+      morning. It was there we met Mr. Carrington&mdash;I'd knowed him slightly
+      back yonder in No'th Carolina,&rdquo; continued Yancy. &ldquo;He said I'd find
+      Hannibal with you. I was counting a heap on seeing my nevvy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington, no longer able to control himself, swung about on his heel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's been done?&rdquo; he asked, with fierce repression. &ldquo;What's going to be
+      done? Don't you know that every second is precious?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am about to conclude my investigations, sir,&rdquo; said the judge with
+      dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington stepped to the door. After all, what was there to expect of
+      these men? Whatever their interest, it was plainly centered in the boy. He
+      passed out into the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the door closed on him the judge turned again to the Scratch Hiller.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Yancy, Mr. Mahaffy and I hold your nephew in the tenderest regard, he
+      has been our constant companion ever since you were lost to him. In this
+      crisis you may rely upon us; we are committed to his recovery, no matter
+      what it involves.&rdquo; The judge's tone was one of unalterable resolution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you-all have been mighty good and kind to him,&rdquo; said Yancy
+      huskily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have endeavored to be, Mr. Yancy&mdash;indeed I had formed the
+      resolution legally to adopt him should you not come to claim him. I should
+      have given him my name, and made him my heir. His education has already
+      begun, under my supervision,&rdquo; and the judge, remembering the high use to
+      which he had dedicated one of Pegloe's trade labels, fairly glowed with
+      philanthropic fervor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think of that!&rdquo; murmured Yancy softly. He was deeply moved. So was Mr.
+      Cavendish, who was gifted with a wealth of ready sympathy. He thrust out a
+      hardened hand to the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shake!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You're a heap better than you look.&rdquo; A thin ripple of
+      laughter escaped Mahaffy, but the judge accepted Chills and Fever's
+      proffered hand. He understood that here was a simple genuine soul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Price, isn't it important for us to know why Mr. Yancy thinks the boy has
+      been taken back to North Carolina?&rdquo; said Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just what kin is Hannibal to you, Mr. Yancy?&rdquo; asked the judge resuming
+      his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Strictly speaking, he ain't none. That he come to live with me is all
+      owing to Mr. Crenshaw, who's a good man when left to himself, but he's got
+      a wife, so a body may say he never is left to himself,&rdquo; began Yancy; and
+      then briefly he told the story of the woman and the child much as he had
+      told it to Bladen at the Barony the day of General Quintard's funeral.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge, his back to the light and his face in shadow, rested his left
+      elbow on the desk and with his chin sunk in his palm, followed the Scratch
+      Hiller's narrative with the closest attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And General Quintard never saw him&mdash;never manifested any interest in
+      him?&rdquo; the words came slowly from the judge's lips, he seemed to gulp down
+      something that rose in his throat. &ldquo;Poor little lad!&rdquo; he muttered, and
+      again, &ldquo;Poor little lad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never once, sir. He told the slaves to keep him out of his sight. We-all
+      wondered, fo' you know how niggers will talk. We thought maybe he was some
+      kin to the Quintards, but we couldn't figure out how. The old general
+      never had but one child and she had been dead fo' years. The child
+      couldn't have been hers no how.&rdquo; Yancy paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge drummed idly on the desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What implacable hate&mdash;what iron pride!&rdquo; he murmured, and swept his
+      hand across his eyes. Absorbed and aloof, he was busy with his thoughts
+      that spanned the waste of years, years that seemed to glide before him in
+      review, each bitter with its hideous memories of shame and defeat. Then
+      from the smoke of these lost battles emerged the lonely figure of the
+      child as he had seen him that June night. His ponderous arm stiffened
+      where it rested on the desk, he straightened up in his chair and his face
+      assumed its customary expression of battered dignity, while a smile at
+      once wistful and tender hovered about his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One other question,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Until this man Murrell appeared you had no
+      trouble with Bladen? He was content that you should keep the child&mdash;your
+      right to Hannibal was never challenged?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never, sir. All my troubles began about that time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Murrell belongs in these parts,&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd admire fo' to meet him,&rdquo; said Yancy quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge grinned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I place my professional services at your disposal,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Yours is a
+      clear case of felonious assault.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, it ain't, sir&mdash;I look at it this-a-ways; it's a clear case of my
+      giving him the damnedest sort of a body beating!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the judge, &ldquo;I'll hold your hat while you are about it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hicks had taken his time in responding to the judge's summons, but now his
+      step sounded in the hall and throwing open the door he entered the room.
+      Whether consciously or not he had acquired something of that surly,
+      forbidding manner which was characteristic of his employer. A curt nod of
+      the head was his only greeting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you sit down?&rdquo; asked the judge. Hicks signified by another movement
+      of the head that he would not. &ldquo;This is a very dreadful business!&rdquo; began
+      the judge softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't it?&rdquo; agreed Hicks. &ldquo;What you got to say to me?&rdquo; he added
+      petulantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you started to drag the bayou?&rdquo; asked the judge. Hicks nodded. &ldquo;That
+      was your idea?&rdquo; suggested the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, it wa'n't,&rdquo; objected Hicks quickly. &ldquo;But I said she had been actin'
+      like she was plumb distracted ever since Charley Norton got shot&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo; inquired the judge, arching his eyebrows. Hicks was plainly
+      disturbed by the question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sort of out of her head. Mr. Ware seen it, too&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He spoke of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir; him and me discussed it together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge regarded Hicks long and intently and in, silence. His
+      magnificent mind was at work. If Betty had been distraught he had not
+      observed any sign of it the previous day. If Ware were better informed as
+      to her true mental state why had he chosen this time to go to Memphis?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose Mr. Ware asked you to keep an eye on Miss Malroy while he was
+      away from home?&rdquo; said the judge. Hicks, suspicious of the drift of his
+      questioning, made no answer. &ldquo;I suppose you told the house servants to
+      keep her under observation?&rdquo; continued the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't talk to no niggers,&rdquo; replied Hicks, &ldquo;except to give 'em my
+      orders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, did you give them that order?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I didn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The sudden and hurried entrance of big Steve brought the judge's
+      examination of Mr. Hicks to a standstill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mas'r, you know dat 'ar coachman George&mdash;the big black fellow dat
+      took you into town las' evenin'? I jes' been down at Shanty Hill whar
+      Milly, his wife, is carryin' on something scandalous 'cause George ain't
+      never come home!&rdquo; Steve was laboring under intense excitement, but he
+      ignored the presence of the overseer and addressed himself to Slocum
+      Price.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what of that?&rdquo; cried Hicks quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thar warn't no George, mind you, Mas'r, but dar was his team in de stable
+      this mo'ning and lookin' mighty nigh done up with hard driving.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; interrupted Hicks uneasily; &ldquo;put a pair of lines in a nigger's
+      hands and he'll run any team off its legs!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' the kerriage all scratched up from bein' thrashed through the
+      bushes,&rdquo; added Steve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's a nigger for you!&rdquo; said Hicks. &ldquo;She took the rascal out of the
+      field, dressed him like he was a gentleman and pampered him up, and now
+      first chance he gets he runs off!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said the judge softly. &ldquo;Then you knew this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I knew&mdash;wa'n't it my business to know? I reckon he was off
+      skylarking, and when he'd seen the mess he'd made, the trifling fool took
+      to the woods. Well, he catches it when I lay hands on him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know when and under what circumstances the team was stabled, Mr.
+      Hicks?&rdquo; inquired the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I don't, but I reckon it must have been along after dark,&rdquo; said Hicks
+      unwillingly. &ldquo;I seen to the feeding just after sundown like I always do,
+      then I went to supper,&rdquo; Hicks vouchsafed to explain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And no one saw or heard the team drive in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not as I know of,&rdquo; said Hicks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mas'r Ca'ington's done gone off to get a pack of dawgs&mdash;he 'lows
+      hit's might' important to find what's come of George,&rdquo; said Steve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hicks started violently at this piece of news.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon he'll have to travel a right smart distance to find a pack of
+      dogs,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;I don't know of none this side of Colonel Bates' down
+      below Girard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge was lost in thought. He permitted an interval of silence to
+      elapse in which Hicks' glance slid round in a furtive circle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When did Mr. Ware set out for Memphis?&rdquo; asked the judge at length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Early yesterday. He goes there pretty often on business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talked with Mr. Ware before he left?&rdquo; Hicks nodded. &ldquo;Did he speak of
+      Miss Malroy?&rdquo; Hicks shook his head. &ldquo;Did you see her during the
+      afternoon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;maybe you think these niggers ain't enough to keep a man
+      stirring?&rdquo; said Hicks uneasily and with a scowl. The judge noticed both
+      the uneasiness and the scowl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should imagine they would absorb every moment of your time, Mr. Hicks,&rdquo;
+       he agreed affably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A man's got to be a hog for work to hold a job like mine,&rdquo; said Hicks
+      sourly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it came to your notice that Miss Malroy has been in a disturbed
+      mental state ever since Mr. Norton's murder? I am interested in this
+      point, Mr. Hicks, because your experience is so entirely at variance with
+      my own. It was my privilege to see and speak with her yesterday afternoon;
+      I was profoundly impressed by her naturalness and composure.&rdquo; The judge
+      smiled, then he leaned forward across the desk. &ldquo;What were you doing up
+      here early this morning&mdash;hasn't a hog for work like you got any
+      business of his own at that hour?&rdquo; The judge's tone was suddenly
+      offensive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, what right have you got to try and pump me?&rdquo; cried Hicks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For no discernible reason Mr. Cavendish spat on his palms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Hicks,&rdquo; said the judge, urbane and gracious, &ldquo;I believe in
+      frankness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure,&rdquo; agreed Hicks, mollified by the judge's altered tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Therefore I do not hesitate to say that I consider you a damned
+      scoundrel!&rdquo; concluded the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cavendish, accepting the judge's ultimatum as something which must
+      debar Hicks from all further consideration, and being, as he was,
+      exceedingly active and energetic by nature, if one passed over the various
+      forms of gainful industry, uttered a loud whoop and threw himself on the
+      overseer. There was a brief struggle and Hicks went down with the Earl of
+      Lambeth astride of him; then from his boot leg that knightly soul flashed
+      a horn-handled tickler of formidable dimensions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge, Yancy, and Mahaffy, sprang from their chairs. Mr. Mahaffy was
+      plainly shocked at the spectacle of Mr. Cavendish's lawless violence.
+      Yancy was disturbed too, but not by the moral aspects of the case; he was
+      doubtful as to just how his friend's act would appeal to the judge. He
+      need not have been distressed on that score, since the judge's one idea
+      was to profit by it. With his hands on his knees he was now bending above
+      the two men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you want to know, judge?&rdquo; cried Cavendish, panting from his
+      exertions. &ldquo;I'll learn this parrot to talk up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hicks,&rdquo; said the judge, &ldquo;it is in your power to tell us a few things we
+      are here to find out.&rdquo; Hicks looked up into the judge's face and closed
+      his lips grimly. &ldquo;Mr. Cavendish, kindly let him have the point of that
+      large knife where he'll feel it most!&rdquo; ordered the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Talk quick!&rdquo; said Cavendish with a ferocious scowl. &ldquo;Talk&mdash;or what's
+      to hinder me slicing open your woozen?&rdquo; and he pressed the blade of his
+      knife against the overseer's throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know anything about Miss Betty,&rdquo; said Hicks in a sullen whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe you don't, but what do you know about the boy?&rdquo; Hicks was silent,
+      but he was grateful for the judge's question. From Tom Ware he had learned
+      of Fentress' interest in the boy. Why should he shelter the colonel at
+      risk to himself? &ldquo;If you please, Mr. Cavendish!&rdquo; said the judge quietly
+      nodding toward the knife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn't ask me about him,&rdquo; said Hicks quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do now,&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was here yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cavendish&mdash;&rdquo; and again the judge glanced toward the knife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait!&rdquo; cried Hicks. &ldquo;You go to Colonel Fentress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let him up, Mr. Cavendish; that's all we want to mow,&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX. COLONEL FENTRESS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The judge had not forgotten his ghost, the ghost he had seen in Mr. Saul's
+      office that day he went to the court-house on business for Charley Norton.
+      Working or idling&mdash;principally the latter&mdash;drunk or sober&mdash;principally
+      the former&mdash;the ghost, otherwise Colonel Fentress, had preserved a
+      place in his thoughts, and now as he moved stolidly up the drive toward
+      Fentress' big white house on the hill with Mahaffy, Cavendish, and Yancy
+      trailing in his wake, memories of what had once been living and vital
+      crowded in upon him. Some sense of the wreck that littered the long years,
+      and the shame of the open shame that had swept away pride and
+      self-respect, came back to him out of the past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He only paused when he stood on the portico before Fentress' open door. He
+      glanced about him at the wide fields, bounded by the distant timber lands
+      that hid gloomy bottoms, at the great log barns in the hollow to his
+      right; at the huddle of whitewashed cabins beyond; then with his big fist
+      he reached in and pounded on the door. The blows echoed loudly through the
+      silent house, and an instant later Fentress' tall, spare figure was seen
+      advancing from the far end of the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is it?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judge Price&mdash;Colonel Fentress'' said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judge Price,&rdquo; uncertainly, and still advancing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had flattered myself that you must have heard of me,&rdquo; said the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I have,&rdquo; said Fentress, pausing now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He thinks he has!&rdquo; muttered the judge under his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you come in?&rdquo; it was more a question than an invitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you are at liberty.&rdquo; The colonel bowed. &ldquo;Allow me,&rdquo; the judge
+      continued. &ldquo;Colonel Fentress&mdash;Mr. Mahaffy, Mr. Yancy and Mr.
+      Cavendish.&rdquo; Again the colonel bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you step into the library?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; and the judge followed the colonel briskly down the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they entered the library Fentress turned and took stock of his
+      guests. Mahaffy he had seen before; Yancy and Cavendish were of course
+      strangers to him, but their appearance explained them; last of all his
+      glance shifted to the judge. He had heard something of those activities by
+      means of which Slocum Price had striven to distinguish himself, and he had
+      a certain curiosity respecting the man. It was immediately satisfied. The
+      judge had reached a degree of shabbiness seldom equaled, and but for his
+      mellow, effulgent personality might well have passed for a common
+      vagabond; and if his dress advertised the state of his finances, his face
+      explained his habits. No misconception was possible about either.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I offer you a glass of liquor?&rdquo; asked Fentress, breaking the silence.
+      He stepped to the walnut centertable where there was a decanter and
+      glasses. By a gesture the judge declined the invitation. Whereat the
+      colonel looked surprised, but not so surprised as Mahaffy. There was
+      another silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think we ever met before?&rdquo; observed Fentress. There was something
+      in the fixed stare his visitor was bending upon him that he found
+      disquieting, just why, he could not have told.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But that fixed stare of the judge's continued. No, the man had not changed&mdash;he
+      had grown older certainly, but age had not come ungracefully; he became
+      the glossy broadcloth and spotless linen he wore. Here was a man who could
+      command the good things of life, using them with a rational temperance.
+      The room itself was in harmony with his character; it was plain but rich
+      in its appointments, at once his library and his office, while the
+      well-filled cases ranged about the walls showed his tastes to be in the
+      main scholarly and intellectual.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long have you lived here?&rdquo; asked the judge abruptly. Fentress seemed
+      to hesitate; but the judge's glance, compelling and insistent, demanded an
+      answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ten years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have known many men of all classes as a lawyer and a planter?&rdquo; said
+      the judge. Fentress inclined his head. The judge took a step nearer him.
+      &ldquo;People have a great trick of coming and going in these western states&mdash;all
+      sorts of damned riffraff drift in and out of these new lands.&rdquo; A deadly
+      earnestness lifted the judge's words above mere rudeness. Fentress, cold
+      and distant, made no reply. &ldquo;For the past twenty years I have been looking
+      for a man by the name of Gatewood&mdash;David Gatewood.&rdquo; Disciplined as he
+      was, the colonel started violently. &ldquo;Ever heard of him, Fentress?&rdquo;
+       demanded the judge with a savage scowl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's all this to me?&rdquo; The words came with a gasp from Fentress'
+      twitching lips. The judge looked at him moody and frowning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have reason to think this man Gatewood came to west Tennessee,&rdquo; he
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If so, I have never heard of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps not under that name&mdash;at any rate you are going to hear of
+      him now. This man Gatewood, who between ourselves was a damned scoundrel&rdquo;&mdash;the
+      colonel winced&mdash;&ldquo;this man Gatewood had a friend who threw money and
+      business in his way&mdash;a planter he was, same as Gatewood. A sort of
+      partnership existed between the pair. It proved an expensive enterprise
+      for Gatewood's friend, since he came to trust the damned scoundrel more
+      and more as time passed&mdash;even large sums of his money were in
+      Gatewood's hands&mdash;&rdquo; the judge paused. Fentress' countenance was like
+      stone, as expressionless and as rigid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By the door stood Mahaffy with Yancy and Cavendish; they understood that
+      what was obscure and meaningless to them held a tragic significance to
+      these two men. The judge's heavy face, ordinarily battered and debauched,
+      but infinitely good-natured, bore now the markings of deep passion, and
+      the voice that rumbled forth from his capacious chest came to their ears
+      like distant thunder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This friend of Gatewood's had a wife&mdash;&rdquo; The judge's voice broke,
+      emotion shook him like a leaf, he was tearing open his wounds. He reached
+      over and poured himself a drink, sucking it down with greedy lips. &ldquo;There
+      was a wife&mdash;&rdquo; he whirled about on his heel and faced Fentress again.
+      &ldquo;There was a wife, Fentress&mdash;&rdquo; he fixed Fentress with his blazing
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A wife and child. Well, one day Gatewood and the wife were missing. Under
+      the circumstances Gatewood's friend was well rid of the pair&mdash;he
+      should have been grateful, but he wasn't, for his wife took his child, a
+      daughter; and Gatewood a trifle of thirty thousand dollars his friend had
+      intrusted to him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was another silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At a later day I met this man who had been betrayed by his wife and
+      robbed by his friend. He had fallen out of the race&mdash;drink had done
+      for him&mdash;there was just one thing he seemed to care about and that
+      was the fate of his child, but maybe he was only curious there. He
+      wondered if she had lived, and married&mdash;&rdquo; Once more the judge paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's all this to me?&rdquo; asked Fentress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure it's nothing to you?&rdquo; demanded the judge hoarsely.
+      &ldquo;Understand this, Fentress. Gatewood's treachery brought ruin to at least
+      two lives. It caused the woman's father to hide his face from the world,
+      it wasn't enough for him that his friends believed his daughter dead; he
+      knew differently and the shame of that knowledge ate into his soul. It
+      cost the husband his place in the world, too&mdash;in the end it made of
+      him a vagabond and a penniless wanderer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is nothing to me,&rdquo; said Fentress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait!&rdquo; cried the judge. &ldquo;About six years ago the woman was seen at her
+      father's home in North Carolina. I reckon Gatewood had cast her off. She
+      didn't go back empty-handed. She had run away from her husband with a
+      child&mdash;a girl; after a lapse of twenty years she returned to her
+      father with a boy of two or three. There are two questions that must be
+      answered when I find Gatewood: what became of the woman and what became of
+      the child; are they living or dead; did the daughter grow up and marry and
+      have a son? When I get my answer it will be time enough to think of
+      Gatewood's punishment!&rdquo; The judge leaned forward across the table,
+      bringing his face close to Fentress' face. &ldquo;Look at me&mdash;do you know
+      me now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Fentress' expression never altered. The judge fell back a step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fentress, I want the boy,&rdquo; he said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What boy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My grandson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are mad! What do I know of him&mdash;or you?&rdquo; Fentress was gaining
+      courage from the sound of his own voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know who he is and where he is. Your business relations with General
+      Ware have put you on the track of the Quintard lands in this state. You
+      intend to use the boy to gather them in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're mad!&rdquo; repeated Fentress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unless you bring him to me inside of twenty-four hours I'll smash you!&rdquo;
+       roared the judge. &ldquo;Your name isn't Fentress, it's Gatewood; you've stolen
+      the name of Fentress, just as you have stolen other things. What's come of
+      Turberville's wife and child? What's come of Turberville's money? Damn
+      your soul! I want my grandson! I'll pull you down and leave you stripped
+      and bare! I'll tell the world the false friend you've been&mdash;the thief
+      you are! I'll strip you and turn you out of these doors as naked as when
+      you entered the world!&rdquo; The judge seemed to tower above Fentress, the man
+      had shot up out of his deep debasement. &ldquo;Choose! Choose!&rdquo; he thundered,
+      his shaggy brows bent in a menacing frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know nothing about the boy,&rdquo; said Fentress slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By God, you lie!&rdquo; stormed the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know nothing about the boy,&rdquo; and Fentress took a step toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay where you are!&rdquo; commanded the judge. &ldquo;If you attempt to leave this
+      room to call your niggers I'll kill you on its threshold!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Yancy and Cavendish had stepped to the door with an intention that was
+      evident, and Fentress' thin face cast itself in haggard lines. He was
+      feeling the judge's terrible capacity, his unexpected ability to deal with
+      a supreme situation. Even Mahaffy gazed at his friend in wonder. He had
+      only seen him spend himself on trifles, with no further object than the
+      next meal or the next drink; he had believed that as he knew him so he had
+      always been, lax and loose of tongue and deed, a noisy tavern hero, but
+      now he saw that he was filling what must have been the measure of his
+      manhood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tell you I had no hand in carrying off the boy,&rdquo; said Fentress with a
+      sardonic smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I look to you to return him. Stir yourself, Gatewood, or by God, I'll
+      hold so fierce a reckoning with you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The sentence remained unfinished, for Fentress felt his overwrought nerves
+      snap, and giving way to a sudden blind fury struck at the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are too old for rough and tumble,&rdquo; said the judge, who had displayed
+      astonishing agility in avoiding the blow. &ldquo;Furthermore we were once
+      gentlemen. At present I am what I am, while you are a hound and a
+      blackguard! We'll settle this as becomes our breeding.&rdquo; He poured himself
+      a second glass of liquor from Fentress' decanter. &ldquo;I wonder if it is
+      possible to insult you,&rdquo; and he tossed glass and contents in Fentress'
+      face. The colonel's thin features were convulsed. The judge watched him
+      with a scornful curling of the lips. &ldquo;I am treating you better than you
+      deserve,&rdquo; he taunted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow morning at sun-up at Boggs' racetrack!&rdquo; cried Fentress. The
+      judge bowed with splendid courtesy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing could please me half so well,&rdquo; he declared. He turned to the
+      others. &ldquo;Gentlemen, this is a private matter. When I have met Colonel
+      Fentress I shall make a public announcement of why this appeared necessary
+      to me; until then I trust this matter will not be given publicity. May I
+      ask your silence?&rdquo; He bowed again, and abruptly passed from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His three friends followed in his steps, leaving Fentress standing by the
+      table, the ghost of a smile on his thin lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As if the very place were evil, the judge hurried down the drive toward
+      the road. At the gate he paused and turned on his companions, but his
+      features wore a look of dignity that forbade comment or question. He held
+      out his hand to Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;if I could command the riches of the Indies, it would tax
+      my resources to meet the fractional part of my obligations to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think of that!&rdquo; said Yancy, as much overwhelmed by the judge's manner as
+      by his words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Uncle Bob shall keep his place in my grandson's life! We'll watch him
+      grow into manhood together.&rdquo; The judge was visibly affected. A smile of
+      deep content parted Mr. Yancy's lips as his muscular fingers closed about
+      the judge's hand with crushing force.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoop!&rdquo; cried Cavendish, delighted at this recognition of Yancy's love
+      for the boy, and he gleefully smote the austere Mahaffy on the shoulder.
+      But Mahaffy was dumb in the presence of the decencies, he quite lacked an
+      interpreter. The judge looked back at the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mine!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;The clothes he stands in, the food he eats&mdash;mine!
+      Mine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX. THE BUBBLE BURSTS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At about the same hour that the judge was hurling threats and insults at
+      Colonel Fentress, three men were waiting ten miles away at the head of the
+      bayou which served to isolate Hicks' cabin. Now no one of these three had
+      ever heard of Judge Slocum Price; the breath of his fame had never blown,
+      however gently, in their direction, yet they were preparing to thrust
+      opportunity upon him. To this end they were lounging about the opening in
+      the woods where the horses belonging to Ware and Murrell were tied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length the dip of oars became audible in the silence and one of the
+      trio stole down the path, a matter of fifty yards, to a point that
+      overlooked the bayou. He was gone but a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Murrell all right!&rdquo; he said in an eager whisper. &ldquo;Him and another
+      fellow&mdash;the Hicks girl is rowing them.&rdquo; He glanced from one to the
+      other of his companions, who seemed to take firmer hold of themselves
+      under his eye. &ldquo;It'll be all right,&rdquo; he protested lightly. &ldquo;He's as good
+      as ours. Wait till I give you the word.&rdquo; And he led the way into an
+      adjacent thicket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime Ware and Murrell had landed and were coming along the path, the
+      outlaw a step or two in advance of his friend. They reached the horses and
+      were untying them when the thicket suddenly disgorged the three men; each
+      held a cocked pistol; two of these pistols covered Murrell and the third
+      was leveled at Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hues!&rdquo; cried Murrell in astonishment, for the man confronting him was the
+      Clan's messenger who should have been speeding across the state.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Toss up your hands, Murrell,&rdquo; said Hues quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the other men spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are under arrest!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Arrest!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are wanted for nigger-stealing,&rdquo; said the man. Still Murrell did not
+      seem to comprehend. He looked at Hues in dull wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you doing here?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Waiting to arrest you&mdash;ain't that plain?&rdquo; said Hues, with a grim
+      smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The outlaw's hands dropped at his side, limp and helpless. With some idea
+      that he might attempt to draw a weapon one of the men took hold of him,
+      but Murrell was nerveless to his touch; his face had gone a ghastly white
+      and was streaked with the markings of terror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, by thunder!&rdquo; cried the man in utter amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Murrell looked into Hues' face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you&mdash;&rdquo; and the words thickened on his tongue becoming an
+      inarticulate murmur.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all up, John,&rdquo; said Hues.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; said Murrell, recovering himself. &ldquo;You may as well turn me loose&mdash;you
+      can't arrest me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've done it,&rdquo; answered Hues, with a laugh. &ldquo;I've been on your track for
+      six months.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about this fellow?&rdquo; asked the man, whose pistol still covered Ware.
+      Hues glanced toward the planter and shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you going to take me?&rdquo; asked Murrell quickly. Again Hues
+      laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll find that out in plenty of time, and then your friends can pass
+      the word around if they like; now you'll come with me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware neither moved nor spoke as Hues and his prisoner passed back along
+      the path, Hues with his hand on Murrell's shoulder, and one of his
+      companions close at his heels, while the third man led off the outlaw's
+      horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently the distant clatter of hoofs was borne to Ware's ears&mdash;only
+      that; the miracle of courage and daring he had half expected had not
+      happened. Murrell, for all his wild boasting, was like other men, like
+      himself. His bloodshot eyes slid around in their sockets. There across the
+      sunlit stretch of water was Betty&mdash;the thought of her brought him to
+      quick choking terrors. The whole fabric of crime by which he had been
+      benefited in the past or had expected to profit in the future seemed
+      toppling in upon him, but his mind clutched one important fact. Hues, if
+      he knew of Betty's disappearance, did not connect Murrell with it. Ware
+      sucked in comfort between his twitching lips. Stealing niggers! No one
+      would believe that he, a planter, had a hand in that, and for a brief
+      instant he considered signaling Bess to return. Slosson must be told of
+      Murrell's arrest; but he was sick with apprehension, some trap might have
+      been prepared for him, he could not know; and the impulse to act forsook
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He smote his hands together in a hopeless, beaten gesture. And Murrell had
+      gone weak&mdash;with his own eyes he had seen it&mdash;Murrell&mdash;whom
+      he believed without fear! He felt that he had been grievously betrayed in
+      his trust and a hot rage poured through him. At last he climbed into the
+      saddle, and swaying like a drunken man, galloped off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When he reached the river road he paused and scanned its dusty surface.
+      Hues and his party had turned south when they issued from the wood path.
+      No doubt Murrell was being taken to Memphis. Ware laughed harshly. The
+      outlaw would be free before another dawn broke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had halted near where Jim had turned his team the previous night after
+      Betty and Hannibal had left the carriage; the marks of the wheels were as
+      plainly distinguishable as the more recent trail left by the four men, and
+      as he grasped the significance of that wide half circle his sense of
+      injury overwhelmed him again. He hoped to live to see Murrell hanged!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was so completely lost in his bitter reflections that he had been
+      unaware of a mounted man who was coming toward him at a swift gallop, but
+      now he heard the steady pounding of hoofs and, startled by the sound,
+      looked up. A moment later the horseman drew rein at his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ware!&rdquo; he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you, Carrington?&rdquo; said the planter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are wanted at Belle Plain,&rdquo; began Carrington, and seemed to hesitate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;yes, I am going there at once&mdash;now&mdash;&rdquo; stammered Ware,
+      and gathered up his reins with a shaking hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've heard, I take it?&rdquo; said Carrington slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Ware, in a hoarse whisper. &ldquo;My God, Carrington, I'm heart
+      sick; she has been like a daughter to me!&rdquo; he fell silent mopping his
+      face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I understand your feeling,&rdquo; said Carrington, giving him a level
+      glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you'll excuse me,&rdquo; and the planter clapped spurs to his horse. Once
+      he looked back over his shoulder; he saw that Carrington had not moved
+      from the spot where they had met.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At Belle Plain, Ware found his neighbors in possession of the place. They
+      greeted him quietly and spoke in subdued tones of their sympathy. The
+      planter listened with an air of such abject misery that those who had
+      neither liked nor respected him, were roused to a sudden generous feeling
+      where he was concerned, they could not question but that he was deeply
+      affected. After all the man might have a side to his nature with which
+      they had never come in contact.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When he could he shut himself in his room. He had experienced a day of
+      maddening anxiety, he had not slept at all the previous night, in mind and
+      body he was worn out; and now he was plunged into the thick of this
+      sensation. He must keep control of himself, for every word he said would
+      be remembered. In the present there was sympathy for him, but sooner or
+      later people would return to their sordid unemotional judgments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sought to forecast the happenings of the next few hours. Murrell's
+      friends would break jail for him, that was a foregone conclusion, but the
+      insurrection he had planned was at an end. Hues had dealt its death blow.
+      Moreover, though the law might be impotent to deal with Murrell, he could
+      not hope to escape the vengeance of the powerful class he had plotted to
+      destroy; he would have to quit the country. Ware gloated in this idea of
+      craven flight. Thank God, he had seen the last of him!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But as always his thoughts came back to Betty. Slosson would wait at the
+      Hicks' place for the man Murrell had promised him, and failing this
+      messenger, for the signal fire, but there would be neither; and Slosson
+      would be left to determine his own course of action. Ware felt certain
+      that he would wait through the night, but as sure as the morning broke, if
+      no word had reached him, he would send one of his men across the bayou,
+      who must learn of Murrell's arrest, escape, flight&mdash;for in Ware's
+      mind these three events were indissolubly associated. The planter's teeth
+      knocked together. He was having a terrible acquaintance with fear, its
+      very depths had swallowed him up; it was a black pit in which he sank from
+      horror to horror. He had lost all faith in the Clan which had terrorized
+      half a dozen states, which had robbed and murdered with apparent impunity,
+      which had marketed its hundreds of stolen slaves. He had utterly collapsed
+      at the first blow dealt the organization, but he was still seeing Murrell,
+      pallid and shaken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A step sounded in the hall and an instant later Hicks entered the room
+      without the formality of knocking. Ware recognized his presence with a
+      glance of indifference, but did not speak. Hicks slouched to his
+      employer's side and handed him a note which proved to be from Fentress.
+      Ware read and tossed it aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he wants to see me why don't he come here?&rdquo; he growled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon that old fellow they call Judge Price has sprung something
+      sudden on the colonel,&rdquo; said Hicks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was out here the first thing this morning; you'd have thought he owned
+      Belle Plain. There was a couple of strangers with him, and he had me in
+      and fired questions at me for half an hour, then he hiked off up to The
+      Oaks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Murrell's been arrested,&rdquo; said Ware in a dull level voice. Hicks gave him
+      a glance of unmixed astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, by God!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who'd risk it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Risk it? Man, he almost fainted dead away&mdash;a damned coward. Hell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you know this?&rdquo; asked Hicks, appalled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was with him when he was taken&mdash;it was Hues the man he trusted
+      more than any other!&rdquo; Ware gave the overseer a ghastly grin and was
+      silent, but in that silence he heard the drumming of his own heart. He
+      went on. &ldquo;I tell you to save himself John Murrell will implicate the rest
+      of us; we've got to get him free, and then, by hell&mdash;we ought to
+      knock him in the head; he isn't fit to live!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The jail ain't built that'll hold him!!&rdquo; muttered Hicks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course, he can't be held,&rdquo; agreed Ware. &ldquo;And 'he'll never be brought
+      to trial; no lawyer will dare appear against him, no jury will dare find
+      him guilty; but there's Hues, what about him?&rdquo; He paused. The two men
+      looked at each other for a long moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did they carry the captain?&rdquo; inquired Hicks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It looks like the Clan was in a hell-fired hole&mdash;but shucks! What
+      will be easier than to fix Hues?&mdash;and while they're fixing folks
+      they'd better not overlook that old fellow Price. He's got some notion
+      about Fentress and the boy.&rdquo; Mr. Hicks did not consider it necessary to
+      explain that he was himself largely responsible for this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you know that?&rdquo; demanded Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He as good as said so.&rdquo; Hicks looked uneasily at the planter. He knew
+      himself to be compromised. The stranger named Cavendish had forced an
+      admission from him that Murrell would not condone if it came to his
+      knowledge. He had also acquired a very proper and wholesome fear of Judge
+      Slocum Price. He stepped close to Ware's side. &ldquo;What'll come of the girl,
+      Tom? Can you figure that out?&rdquo; he questioned, sinking his voice almost to
+      a whisper. But Ware was incapable of speech, again his terrors completely
+      overwhelmed him. &ldquo;I reckon you'll have to find another overseer. I'm going
+      to strike out for Texas,&rdquo; said Hicks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware's eyes met his for an instant. He had thought of flight, too, was
+      still thinking of it, but greed was as much a part of his nature as fear;
+      Belle Plain was a prize not to be lightly cast aside, and it was almost
+      his. He lurched across the room to the window. If he were going to act,
+      the sooner he did so the better, and gain a respite from his fears. The
+      road down the coast slid away before his heavy eyes, he marked each turn;
+      then a palsy of fear shook him, his heart beat against his ribs, and he
+      stood gnawing his lips while he gazed up at the sun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you get what I say, Tom? I am going to quit these parts,&rdquo; said Hicks.
+      Ware turned slowly from the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, Hicks. You mean you want me to settle with you, is that it?&rdquo;
+       he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I'm going to leave while I can, maybe I can't later on,&rdquo; said Hicks
+      stolidly. He added: &ldquo;I am going to start down the coast as soon as it
+      turns dark, and before it's day again I'll have put the good miles between
+      me and these parts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're going down the coast?&rdquo; and Ware was again conscious of the
+      quickened beating of his heart. Hicks nodded. &ldquo;See you don't meet up with
+      John Murrell,&rdquo; said Ware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll take that chance. It seems a heap better to me than staying here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware looked from the window. The shadows were lengthening across the lawn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better start now, Hicks,&rdquo; he advised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll wait until it turns dark.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll need a horse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was going to help myself to one. This ain't no time to stand on
+      ceremony,&rdquo; said Hicks shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Slosson shouldn't be left in the lurch like this&mdash;or your brother's
+      folks&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They'll have to figure it out for themselves same as me,&rdquo; rejoined Hicks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can stop there as you go by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Hicks; &ldquo;I never did believe in this damn foolishness about the
+      girl, and I won't go near George's&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't ask you to go there, you can give them the signal from the head
+      of the bayou. All I want is for you to stop and light a fire on the shore.
+      They'll know what that means. I'll give you a horse and fifty dollars for
+      the job.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hicks' eyes sparkled, but he only said
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Make it twice that and maybe we can deal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Racked and tortured, Ware hesitated; but the sun was slipping into the
+      west, his windows blazed with the hot light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You swear you'll do your part?&rdquo; he said thickly. He took his purse from
+      his pocket and counted out the amount due Hicks. He named the total, and
+      paused irresolutely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you want the fire lighted?&rdquo; asked Hicks. He was familiar with his
+      employer's vacillating moods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Ware, his lips quivering; and slowly, with shaking
+      fingers, he added to the pile of bills in Hicks' hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, take care of yourself,&rdquo; said Hicks, when the count was complete. He
+      thrust the roll of bills into his pocket and moved to the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Alone again, the planter collapsed into his chair, breathing heavily, but
+      his terrors swept over him and left him with a savage sense of triumph.
+      This passed, he sprang up, intending to recall Hicks and unmake his
+      bargain. What had he been thinking of&mdash;safety lay only in flight!
+      Before he reached the door his greed was in the ascendant. He dropped down
+      on the edge of his bed, his eyes fixed on the window. The sun sank lower.
+      From where he sat he saw it through the upper half of the sash, blood-red
+      and livid in a mist of fleecy clouds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was in the tops of the old oaks now, which sent their shadows into his
+      room. Again maddened by his terrors he started up and backed toward the
+      door; but again his greed, the one dominating influence in his life,
+      vanquished him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He watched the sun sink. He watched the red splendor fade over the river;
+      he saw the first stars appear. He told himself that Hicks would soon be
+      gone&mdash;if the fire was not to be lighted he must act at once! He stole
+      to the window. It was dusk now, yet he could distinguish the distant
+      wooded boundaries of the great fields framed by the darkening sky. Then in
+      the silence he heard the thud of hoofs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI. THE KEEL BOAT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PRICE,&rdquo; began Mahaffy. They were back in Raleigh in the room the judge
+      called his office, and this was Mahaffy's first opportunity to ease his
+      mind on the subject of the duel, as they had only just parted from Yancy
+      and Cavendish, who had stopped at one of the stores to make certain
+      purchases for the raft.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a word, Solomon&mdash;it had to come. I am going to kill him. I shall
+      feel better then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What if he kills you?&rdquo; demanded Mahaffy harshly. The judge shrugged his
+      shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is as it may be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you forgotten your grandson?&rdquo; Mahaffy's voice was still harsh and
+      rasping.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I regard my meeting with Fentress as nothing less than a sacred duty to
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We know no more than we did this morning,&rdquo; said Mahaffy. &ldquo;You are mixing
+      up all sorts of side issues with what should be your real purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all, Solomon&mdash;not at all! I look upon my grandson's speedy
+      recovery as an assured fact. Fentress dare not hold him. He knows he is
+      run to earth at last.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Price&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Solomon&mdash;no, my friend, we will not speak of it again. You will
+      go back to Belle Plain with Yancy and Cavendish; you must represent me
+      there. We have as good as found Hannibal, but we must be active in Miss
+      Malroy's behalf. For us that has an important bearing on the future, and
+      since I can not, you must be at Belle Plain when Carrington arrives with
+      his pack of dogs. Give him the advantage of your sound and mature
+      judgment, Solomon; don't let any false modesty keep you in the
+      background.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's going to second you?&rdquo; snapped Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge was the picture of indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will be quite informal, the code is scarcely applicable; I merely
+      intend to remove him because he is not fit to live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At sun-up!&rdquo; muttered Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I intend to start one day right even if I never live to begin another,&rdquo;
+       said the judge, a sudden fierce light flashing from his eyes. &ldquo;I feel that
+      this is the turning point in my career, Solomon!&rdquo; he went on. &ldquo;The
+      beginning of great things! But I shall take no chances with the future, I
+      shall prepare for every possible contingency. I am going to make you and
+      Yancy my grandson's guardians. There's a hundred thousand acres of land
+      hereabout that must come to him. I shall outline in writing the legal
+      steps to be taken to substantiate his claims. Also he will inherit largely
+      from me at my death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Something very like laughter escaped from Mahaffy's lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you go, Solomon, with your inopportune mirth! What in God's name
+      have I if I haven't hope? Take that from me and what would I be? Why, the
+      very fate I have been fighting off with tooth and nail would overwhelm me.
+      I'd sink into unimportance&mdash;my unparalleled misfortunes would degrade
+      me to a level with the commonest! No, sir, I've never been without hope,
+      and though I've fallen I've always got up. What Fentress has is based on
+      money he stole from me. By God, the days of his profit-taking are at an
+      end! I am going to strip him. And even if I don't live to enjoy what's
+      mine, my grandson shall! He shall wear velvet and a lace collar and ride
+      his pony yet, by God, as a gentleman's grandson should!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It sounds well, Price, but where's the money coming from to push a
+      lawsuit?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge waved this aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The means will be found, Solomon. Our horizon is lifting&mdash;I can see
+      it lift! Don't drag me back from the portal of hope! We'll drink the stuff
+      that comes across the water; I'll warm the cockles of your heart with
+      imported brandy. I carry twenty years' hunger and thirst under my wes-coat
+      and I'll feed and drink like a gentleman yet!&rdquo; The judge smacked his lips
+      in an ecstasy of enjoyment, and dropping down before the table which
+      served him as a desk, seized a pen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's good enough to think about, Price,&rdquo; admitted Mahaffy grudgingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's better to do; and if anything happens to me the papers I am going to
+      leave will tell you how it's to be done. Man, there's a million of money
+      in sight, and we've got to get it and spend it and enjoy it! None of your
+      swinish thrift for me, but life on a big scale&mdash;company, and
+      feasting, and refined surroundings!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you are going to meet Fentress in the morning?&rdquo; asked Mahaffy. &ldquo;I
+      suppose there's no way of avoiding that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Avoiding it?&rdquo; almost shouted the judge. &ldquo;For what have I been living? I
+      shall meet him, let the consequences be what they may. To-night when I
+      have reduced certain facts to writing I shall join you at Belle Plain. The
+      strange and melancholy history of my life I shall place in your hands for
+      safe keeping. In the morning I can be driven back to Boggs'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you will go there without a second?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If necessary; yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I declare, Price, you are hardly fitted to be at large! Why, you act as
+      if you were tired of life. There's Yancy&mdash;there's Cavendish!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge gave him an indulgent but superior smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two very worthy men, but I go to Boggs' attended by a gentleman or I go
+      there alone. I am aware of your prejudices, Solomon; otherwise I might ask
+      this favor of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Mahaffy snorted loudly and turned to the door, for Yancy and Cavendish
+      were now approaching the house, the latter with a meal sack slung over his
+      shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, Solomon, take one of my pistols,&rdquo; urged the judge hastily. &ldquo;You may
+      need it at Belle Plain. Goodby, and God bless you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just where he had parted from Ware, Carrington sat his horse, his brows
+      knit and his eyes turned in the direction of the path. He was on his way
+      to a plantation below Girard, the owner of which had recently imported a
+      pack of bloodhounds; but this unexpected encounter with Ware had affected
+      him strangely. He still heard Tom's stammering speech, he was still seeing
+      his ghastly face, and he had come upon him with startling suddenness. He
+      had chanced to look back over his shoulder and when he faced about there
+      had been the planter within a hundred yards of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently Carrington's glance ceased to follow the windings of the path.
+      He stared down at the gray dust and saw the trail left by Hues and his
+      party. For a moment he hesitated; if the dogs were to be used with any
+      hope of success he had no time to spare, and this was the merest
+      suspicion, illogical conjecture, based on nothing beyond his distrust of
+      Ware. In the end he sprang from the saddle and leading his horse into the
+      woods, tied it to a sapling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A hurried investigation told him that five men had ridden in and out of
+      that path. Of the five, all coming from the south, four had turned south
+      again, but the fifth man&mdash;Ware, in other words&mdash;had gone north.
+      He weighed the possible significance of these facts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am only wasting time!&rdquo; he confessed reluctantly, and was on the point
+      of turning away, when, on the very edge of the road and just where the
+      dust yielded to the hard clay of the path, his glance lighted on the print
+      of a small and daintily shod foot. The throbbing of his heart quickened
+      curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Betty!&rdquo; The word leaped from his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That small foot had left but the one impress. There were other signs,
+      however, that claimed his attention; namely, the bootprints of Slosson and
+      his men; and he made the inevitable discovery that these tracks were all
+      confined to the one spot. They began suddenly and as suddenly ceased, yet
+      there was no mystery about these; he had the marks of the wheels to help
+      him to a sure conclusion. A carriage had turned just here, several men had
+      alighted, they had with them a child or a woman. Either they had reentered
+      the carriage and driven back as they had come, or they had gone toward the
+      river. He felt the soul within him turn sick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stole along the path; the terror of the river was ever in his thoughts,
+      and the specter of his fear seemed to flit before him and lure him on.
+      Presently he caught his first glimpse of the bayou and his legs shook
+      under him; but the path wound deeper still into what appeared to be an
+      untouched solitude, wound on between the crowding tree forms, a little
+      back from the shore, with an intervening tangle of vines and bushes. He
+      scanned this closely as he hurried forward, scarcely conscious that he was
+      searching for some trampled space at the water's edge; but the verdant
+      wall preserved its unbroken continuity, and twenty minutes later he came
+      within sight of the Hicks' clearing and the keel boat, where it rested
+      against the bank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little farther on he found the spot where Slosson had launched the skiff
+      the night before. The keel of his boat had cut deep into the slippery
+      clay; more than this, the impress of the small shoe was repeated here, and
+      just beside it was the print of a child's bare foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He no longer doubted that Betty and Hannibal had been taken across the
+      bayou to the cabin, and he ran back up the path the distance of a mile and
+      plunged into the woods on his right, his purpose being to pass around the
+      head of the expanse of sluggish water to a point from which he could later
+      approach the cabin. But the cabin proved to be better defended than he had
+      foreseen; and as he advanced, the difficulties of the task he had set
+      himself became almost insurmountable; yet sustained as he was by his
+      imperative need, he tore his way through the labyrinth of trailing vines,
+      or floundered across acre-wide patches of green slime and black mud, which
+      at each step threatened to engulf him in their treacherous depths, until
+      at the end of an hour he gained the southern side of the clearing and a
+      firmer footing within the shelter of the woods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here he paused and took stock of his surroundings. The two or three
+      buildings Mr. Hicks had erected stood midway of the clearing and were very
+      modest improvements adapted to their owner's somewhat flippant pursuit of
+      agriculture. While Carrington was still staring about him, the cabin door
+      swung open and a woman stepped forth. It was the girl Bess. She went to a
+      corner of the building and called loudly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joe! Oh, Joe!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington glanced in the direction of the keel boat and an instant later
+      saw Slosson clamber over its side. The tavern-keeper crossed to the cabin,
+      where he was met by Bess, who placed in his hands what seemed to be a
+      wooden bowl. With this he slouched off to one of the outbuildings, which
+      he entered. Ten or fifteen minutes slipped by, then he came from the shed
+      and after securing the door, returned to the cabin. He was again met by
+      Bess, who relieved him of the bowl; they exchanged a few words and Slosson
+      walked away and afterward disappeared over the side of the keel boat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This much was clear to the Kentuckian: food had been taken to some one in
+      the shed&mdash;to Betty and the boy!&mdash;more likely to George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He waited now for the night to come, and to him the sun seemed fixed in
+      the heavens. At Belle Plain Tom Ware was watching it with a shuddering
+      sense of the swiftness of its flight. But at last the tops of the tall
+      trees obscured it; it sank quickly then and blazed a ball of fire beyond
+      the Arkansas coast, while its dying glory spread aslant the heavens,
+      turning the flanks of the gray clouds to violet and purple and gold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the first approach of darkness Carrington made his way to the shed.
+      Hidden in the shadow he paused to listen, and fancied he heard difficult
+      breathing from within. The door creaked hideously on its wooden hinges
+      when he pushed it open, but as it swung back the last remnant of the day's
+      light showed him some dark object lying prone on the dirt floor. He
+      reached down and his hand rested on a man's booted foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;George&mdash;&rdquo; Carrington spoke softly, but the man on the floor gave no
+      sign that he heard, and Carrington's questioning touch stealing higher he
+      found that George&mdash;if it were George&mdash;was lying on his side with
+      his arms and legs securely bound. Thinking he slept, the Kentuckian shook
+      him gently to arouse him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;George?&rdquo; he repeated, still bending above him. This time an inarticulate
+      murmur answered him. At the same instant the woolly head of the negro came
+      under his fingers and he discovered the reason of his silence. He was as
+      securely gagged as he was bound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen, George&mdash;it's Carrington&mdash;I am going to take off this
+      gag, but don't speak above a whisper&mdash;they may hear us!&rdquo; And he cut
+      the cords that held the gag in place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How yo' get here, Mas'r Ca'ington?&rdquo; asked the negro guardedly, as the gag
+      fell away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Around the head of the bayou.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lawd!&rdquo; exclaimed George, in a tone of wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's Miss Betty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's in the cabin yonder&mdash;fo' the love of God, cut these here other
+      ropes with yo' knife, Mas'r Ca'ington&mdash;I'm perishin' with 'em!&rdquo;
+       Carrington did as he asked, and groaning, George sat erect. &ldquo;I'm like I
+      was gone to sleep all over,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll feel better in a moment. Tell me about Miss Malroy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They done fetched us here last night. I was drivin' Missy into Raleigh&mdash;her
+      and young Mas'r Hazard&mdash;when fo' men stop us in the road.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who were they, do you know?&rdquo; asked Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lawd&mdash;what's that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington, knife in hand swung about on his heel. A lantern's light
+      flashed suddenly in his face and Bess Hicks, with a low startled cry
+      breaking from her lips, paused in the doorway. Springing forward,
+      Carrington seized her by the wrist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; he grimly warned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you doin' here?&rdquo; demanded the girl, as she endeavored to shake
+      off his hand, but Carrington drew her into the shed, and closing the door,
+      set his back against it. There was a brief silence during which Bess
+      regarded the Kentuckian with a kind of stolid fearlessness. She was the
+      first to speak. &ldquo;I reckon you-all have come after Miss Malroy,&rdquo; she
+      observed quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you reckon right,&rdquo; answered Carrington. The girl studied him from
+      beneath her level brows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you-all think you can take her away from here,&rdquo; she speculated. &ldquo;I
+      ain't afraid of yo' knife&mdash;you-all might use it fast enough on a man,
+      but not on me. I'll help you,&rdquo; she added. Carrington gave her an
+      incredulous glance. &ldquo;You don't believe me? What's to hinder my calling for
+      help? That would fetch our men up from the keel boat. No&mdash;yo'-all's
+      knife wouldn't stop me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be too sure of that,&rdquo; said Carrington sternly. The girl met the
+      menace of his words with soft, fullthroated laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yo' hand's shakin' now, Mr. Carrington!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I seen you once at Boggs'.&rdquo; She made an impatient movement. &ldquo;You
+      can't do nothing against them fo' men unless I help you. Miss Malroy's to
+      go down river to-night; they're only waiting fo' a pilot&mdash;you-all's
+      got to act quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you want Miss Malroy to escape?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl's mood changed abruptly. She scowled at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon that's a private matter. Ain't it enough fo' you-all to know
+      that I do? I'm showing how it can be done. Them four men on the keel boat
+      are strangers in these parts, they're waiting fo' a pilot, but they don't
+      know who he'll be. I've heard you-all was a riverman; what's to hinder yo'
+      taking the pilot's place? Looks like yo' was willing to risk yo' life fo'
+      Miss Malroy or you wouldn't be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm ready,&rdquo; said Carrington, his hand on the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you ain't&mdash;jest yet,&rdquo; interposed the girl hastily. &ldquo;Listen to me
+      first. They's a dugout tied up 'bout a hundred yards above the keel boat;
+      you must get that to cross in to the other side of the bayou, then when
+      yo're ready to come back yo're to whistle three times&mdash;it's the
+      signal we're expecting&mdash;and I'll row across fo' you in one of the
+      skiffs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you see Miss Malroy in the meantime?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I want to, they's nothin' to hinder me,&rdquo; responded Bess sullenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell her then&mdash;&rdquo; began Carrington, but Bess interrupted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know what yo' want. She ain't to cry out or nothin' when she sees
+      you-all. I got sense enough fo' that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington looked at her curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This may be a serious business for your people,&rdquo; he said significantly,
+      and watched her narrowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you-all may get killed. I reckin if yo' want to do a thing bad enough
+      you don't mind much what comes after,&rdquo; she answered with a hard little
+      laugh, as she went from the shed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come!&rdquo; said Carrington to the negro, when he had seen the cabin door
+      close on Bess and her lantern; and they stole across the clearing.
+      Reaching the bayou side they began a noiseless search for the dugout,
+      which they quickly found, and Carrington turned to George. &ldquo;Can you swim?&rdquo;
+       he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Mas'r.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then go down into the water and drag the canoe farther along the shore&mdash;and
+      for God's sake, no sound!&rdquo; he cautioned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They placed a second hundred yards between themselves and the keel boat in
+      this manner, then he had George bring the dug-out to the bank, and they
+      embarked. Keeping within the shadow of the trees that fringed the shore,
+      Carrington paddled silently about the head of the bayou.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;George,&rdquo; he at length said, bending toward the negro; &ldquo;my horse is tied
+      in the woods on the right-hand side of the road just above where you were
+      taken from the carriage last night&mdash;you can be at Belle Plain inside
+      of an hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, Mas'r Ca'ington, those folks yonder is kin to Boss Hicks. If
+      he get his hand on me first don't you reckon he'll stop my mouth? I been
+      here heaps of times fotchin' letters fo' Mas'r Tom,&rdquo; added George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who were the letters for?&rdquo; asked the Kentuckian, greatly surprised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They was fo' that Captain Murrell; seems like him and Mas'r Tom was mixed
+      up in a sight of business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When was this&mdash;recently?&rdquo; inquired Carrington. He was turning this
+      astonishing statement of the slave over in his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, no, Mas'r; seems like they ain't so thick here recently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you'd better keep away from the big house yet a while,&rdquo; said
+      Carrington. &ldquo;Instead of going there, stop at the Belle Plain landing.
+      You'll find a raft tied up to the shore, it belongs to a man named
+      Cavendish. Tell him what you know. That I've found Miss Malroy and the
+      boy, tell him to cast off and drift down here. I'll run the keel boat
+      aground the first chance I get, so tell him to keep a sharp lookout.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A few minutes later they had separated, George to hurry away in search of
+      the horse, and Carrington to pass back along the shore until he gained a
+      point opposite the clearing. He whistled shrilly three times, and after an
+      interval of waiting heard the splash of oars and presently saw a skiff
+      steal out of the gloom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's there?&rdquo; It was Bess who asked the question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Carrington,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucky you ain't met the other man!&rdquo; she said as she swept her skiff
+      alongside the bank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucky for him, you mean. I'll take the oars,&rdquo; added Carrington as he
+      entered the skiff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly the clearing lifted out of the darkness, then the keel boat became
+      distinguishable; and Carrington checked the skiff by a backward stroke of
+      the oars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; he called.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no immediate answer to his hail, and he called again as he sent
+      the skiff forward. He felt that he was risking all now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you want?&rdquo; asked a surly voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You want Slosson!&rdquo; quickly prompted the girl in a whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to see Slosson!&rdquo; said Carrington glibly and with confidence, and
+      once more he checked the skiff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who be you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Murrell sent you,&rdquo; prompted the girl again, in a hurried whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Murrell&mdash;&rdquo; And in his astonishment Carrington spoke aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Murrell?&rdquo; cried the voice sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;sent me!&rdquo; said Carrington quickly, as though completing an
+      unfinished sentence. The girl laughed nervously under her breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Row closter!&rdquo; came the sullen command, and the Kentuckian did as he was
+      bidden. Four men stood in the bow of the keel boat, a lantern was raised
+      aloft and by its light they looked him over. There was a moment's silence
+      broken by Carrington, who asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which one of you is Slosson?&rdquo; And he sprang lightly aboard the keel boat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Slosson,&rdquo; answered the man with the lantern. The previous night Mr.
+      Slosson had been somewhat under the enlivening and elevating influence of
+      corn whisky, but now he was his own cheerless self, and rather jaded by
+      the passing of the hours which he had sacrificed to an irksome
+      responsibility. &ldquo;What word do you fetch from the Captain, brother?&rdquo; he
+      demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Malroy is to be taken down river,&rdquo; responded Carrington. Slosson
+      swore with surpassing fluency.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, we're five able-bodied men risking our necks to oblige him! You can
+      get married a damn sight easier than this if you go about it right&mdash;I've
+      done it lots of times.&rdquo; Not understanding the significance of Slosson's
+      allusion to his own matrimonial career, Carrington held his peace. The
+      tavern-beeper swore again with unimpaired vigor. &ldquo;You'll find mighty few
+      men with more experience than me,&rdquo; he asserted, shaking his head. &ldquo;But if
+      you say the word&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm all for getting shut of this!&rdquo; answered Carrington promptly, with a
+      sweep of his arm. &ldquo;I call these pretty close quarters!&rdquo; Still shaking his
+      head and muttering, the tavernkeeper sprang ashore and mounted the bank,
+      where his slouching figure quickly lost itself in the night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington took up his station on the flat roof of the cabin which filled
+      the stern of the boat. He was remembering that day in the sandy Barony
+      road&mdash;and during all the weeks and months that had intervened,
+      Murrell, working in secret, had moved steadily toward the fulfilment of
+      his desires! Unquestionably he had been back of the attack on Norton, had
+      inspired his subsequent murder, and the man's sinister and mysterious
+      power had never been suspected. Carrington knew that the horse-thieves and
+      slave stealers were supposed to maintain a loosely knit association; he
+      wondered if Murrell were not the moving spirit in some such organization.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I'd only pushed my quarrel with him!&rdquo; he thought bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He heard Slosson's shuffling step in the distance, a word or two when he
+      spoke gruffly to some one, and a moment later he saw Betty and the boy,
+      their forms darkly silhouetted against the lighter sky as they moved along
+      the top of the bank. Slosson, without any superfluous gallantry, helped
+      his captives down the slope and aboard the keel boat, where he locked them
+      in the cabin, the door of which fastened with a hasp and wooden peg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're boss now, pardner!&rdquo; he said, joining Carrington at the steering
+      oar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll cast off then,&rdquo; answered Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus far nothing had occurred to mar his plans. If they could but quit the
+      bayou before the arrival of the man whose place he had taken, the rest
+      would be if not easy of accomplishment, at least within the realm of the
+      possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you're a river-man?&rdquo; observed Slosson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The line had been cast off, and the crew with their setting poles were
+      forcing the boat away from the bank. All was quietly done; except for an
+      occasional order from Carrington no word was spoken, and soon the unwieldy
+      craft glided into the sluggish current and gathered way. Mr. Slosson, who
+      clearly regarded his relation to the adventure as being of an official
+      character, continued to stand at Carrington's elbow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have we, between here and the river?&rdquo; inquired the latter. It was
+      best, he felt, not to give Slosson an opportunity to ask questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It narrows considerably, pardner, but it's a straight course,&rdquo; said
+      Slosson. &ldquo;Black in yonder, ain't it?&rdquo; he added, nodding ahead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The shores drew rapidly together; they were leaving the lakelike expanse
+      behind. In the silence, above the rustling of the trees, Carrington heard
+      the first fret of 'the river against its bank. Slosson yawned
+      prodigiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you ain't needing me?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better go up in the bow and get some sleep,&rdquo; advised Carrington, and
+      Slosson, nothing loath, clambered down from the roof of the cabin and
+      stumbled forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ceaseless murmur of the rushing waters grew in the stillness as the
+      keel boat drew nearer the hurrying yellow flood, and the beat of the
+      Kentuckian's pulse quickened. Would he find the raft there? He glanced
+      back over the way they had come. The dark ranks of the forest walled off
+      the clearing, but across the water a dim point of light was visible. He
+      fixed its position as somewhere near the head of the bayou. Apparently it
+      was a lantern, but as he looked a ruddy glow crept up against the
+      sky-line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the bow Bunker had been observing this singular phenomenon. Suddenly
+      he bent and roused Slosson, who had fallen asleep. The tavern-keeper
+      sprang to his feet and Bunker pointed without speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mebby you can tell me what that light back yonder means?&rdquo; cried Slosson,
+      addressing himself to Carrington; as he spoke he snatched up his rifle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what I'm trying to make out,&rdquo; answered Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hell!&rdquo; cried Slosson, and tossed his gun to his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What seemed to be a breath of wind lifted a stray lock of Carrington's
+      hair, but his pistol answered Slosson in the same second. He fired at the
+      huddle of men in the bow of the boat and one of them pitched forward with
+      his arms outspread.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep back, you!&rdquo; he said, and dropped off the cabin roof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His promptness had bred a momentary panic, then Slosson's bull-like voice
+      began to roar commands; but in that brief instant of surprise and shock
+      Carrington had found and withdrawn the wooden peg that fastened the cabin
+      door. He had scarcely done this when Slosson came tramping aft supported
+      by the three men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Calling to Betty and Hannibal to escape in the skiff which was towing
+      astern the Kentuckian rushed toward the bow. At his back he heard the door
+      creak on its hinges as it was pushed open by Betty and the boy, and again
+      he called to them to escape by the skiff. The fret of the current had
+      grown steadily and from beneath the wide-flung branches of the trees which
+      here met above his head, Carrington caught sight of the starspecked arch
+      of the heavens beyond. They were issuing from the bayou. He felt the river
+      snatch at the keel boat, the buffeting of some swift eddy, and saw the
+      blunt bow swing off to the south as they were plunged into the black shore
+      shadows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But what he did not see was a big muscular hand which had thrust itself
+      out of the impenetrable gloom and clutched the side of the keel boat.
+      Coincident with this there arose a perfect babel of voices, high-pitched
+      and shrill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho&mdash;I bet it's him! Sho'&mdash;it's Uncle Bob's nevvy! Sho', you
+      can hear 'em! Sho', they're shootin' guns! Sho'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington cast a hurried glance in the direction of these sounds. There
+      between the boat and the shore the dim outline of a raft was taking shape.
+      It was now canopied by a wealth of pale gray smoke that faded from before
+      his eyes as the darkness lifted. Turning, he saw Slosson and his men
+      clearly. Surprise and consternation was depicted on each face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The light increased. From the flat stone hearth of the raft ascended a
+      tall column of flame which rendered visible six pygmy figures, tow-headed
+      and wonderfully vocal, who were toiling like mad at the huge sweeps. The
+      light showed more than this. It showed a lady of plump and pleasing
+      presence smoking a cobpipe while she fed the fire from a tick stuffed with
+      straw. It showed two bark shanties, a line between them decorated with the
+      never-ending Cavendish wash. It showed a rooster perched on the ridge-pole
+      of one of these shanties in the very act of crowing lustily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal, who had climbed to the roof of the cabin, shrieked for help, and
+      Betty added her voice to his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, Nevvy!&rdquo; came the cheerful reply, as Yancy threw himself over
+      the side of the boat and grappled with Slosson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!&rdquo; cried Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slosson uttered a cry of terror. He had a simple but sincere faith in the
+      supernatural, and even with the Scratch Hiller's big hands gripping his
+      throat, he could not rid himself of the belief that this was the ghost of
+      a murdered man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll take a dog's licking from me, neighbor?&rdquo; said Yancy grimly. &ldquo;I
+      been saving it fo' you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile Mr. Cavendish, whose proud spirit never greatly inclined him to
+      the practice of peace, had prepared for battle; Springing aloft he knocked
+      his heels together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoop! I'm a man as can slide down a thorny locust and never get
+      scratched!&rdquo; he shouted. This was equivalent to setting his triggers; then
+      he launched himself nimbly and with enthusiasm into the thick of the
+      fight. It was Mr. Bunker's unfortunate privilege to sustain the onslaught
+      of the Earl of Lambeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The light from the Cavendish hearth continued to brighten the scene, for
+      Polly was recklessly sacrificing her best straw tick. Indeed her behavior
+      was in every way worthy of the noble alliance she had formed. Her cob-pipe
+      was not suffered to go out and with Connie's help she kept the six small
+      Cavendishes from risking life and limb in the keel boat, toward which they
+      were powerfully drawn. Despite these activities she found time to call to
+      Betty and Hannibal on the cabin roof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jump down here; that ain't no fittin' place for you-all to stop in with
+      them gentlemen fightin'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An instant later Betty and Hannibal stood on the raft with the little
+      Cavendishes flocking about them. Mr. Yancy's quest of his nevvy had taken
+      an enduring hold on their imagination. For weeks it had constituted their
+      one vital topic, and the fight became merely a satisfying background for
+      this interesting restoration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho', they'd got him! Sho'&mdash;he wa'n't no bigger than Richard! Sho'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; cried Betty, with a fearful glance toward the keel boat. &ldquo;Can't you
+      stop them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What fo'?&rdquo; asked Polly, opening her black eyes very wide.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless yo' tender heart!-you don't need to worry none, we got them strange
+      gentlemen licked like they was a passel of children! Connie, you-all mind
+      that fire!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She accurately judged the outcome of the fight. The boat was little better
+      than a shambles with the havoc that had been wrought there when Yancy and
+      Carrington dropped over its side to the raft. Cavendish followed them,
+      whooping his triumph as he came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII. THE RAFT AGAIN
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Yancy and Cavendish threw themselves on the sweeps and worked the raft
+      clear of the keel boat, then the turbulent current seized the smaller
+      craft and whirled it away into the night; as its black bulk receded from
+      before his eyes the Earl of Lambeth spoke with the voice of authority and
+      experience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was a good fight and them fellows done well, but not near well
+      enough.&rdquo; A conclusion that could not be gainsaid. He added, &ldquo;No one ain't
+      hurt but them that had ought to have got hurt. Mr. Yancy's all right, and
+      so's Mr. Carrington&mdash;who's mighty welcome here.&rdquo; The earl's shock of
+      red hair was bristling like the mane of some angry animal and his eyes
+      still flashed with the light of battle, but he managed to summon up an
+      expression of winning friendliness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Carrington's kin to me, Polly,&rdquo; explained Yancy to Mrs. Cavendish.
+      His voice was far from steady, for Hannibal had been gathered into his
+      arms and had all but wrecked the stoic calm with which the Scratch Hiller
+      was seeking to guard his emotions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Polly smiled and dimpled at the Kentuckian. Trained to a romantic point of
+      view she had a frank liking for handsome stalwart men. Cavendish was
+      neither, but none knew better than Polly that where he was most lacking in
+      appearance he was richest in substance. He carried scars honorably earned
+      in those differences he had been prone to cultivate with less generous
+      natures; for his scheme of life did not embrace the millennium.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank God, you got here when you did!&rdquo; said Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We was some pushed fo' time, but we done it,&rdquo; responded the earl
+      modestly. He added, &ldquo;What now?&mdash;do we make a landing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;unless it interferes with your plans not to. I 'want to get
+      around the next bend before we tie up. Later we'll all go back. Can I
+      count on you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shorely can. I consider this here as sociable a neighborhood as I
+      ever struck. It pleases me well. Folks are up and doing hereabout.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington looked eagerly around in search of Betty. She was sitting on an
+      upturned tub, a pathetic enough figure as she drooped against the wall of
+      one of the shanties with all her courage quite gone from her. He made his
+      way quickly to her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;La!&rdquo; whispered Polly in Chills and Fever's ear. &ldquo;If that pore young thing
+      yonder keeps a widow it won't be because of any encouragement she gets
+      from Mr. Carrington. If I ever seen marriage in a man's eye I seen it in
+      his this minute!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bruce!&rdquo; cried Betty, starting up as Carrington approached. &ldquo;Oh, Bruce, I
+      am so glad you have come&mdash;you are not hurt?&rdquo; She accepted his
+      presence without question. She had needed him and he had not failed her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are none of us hurt, Betty,&rdquo; he said gently, as he took her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He saw that the suffering she had undergone during the preceding
+      twenty-four hours had left its record on her tired face and in her heavy
+      eyes. She retained a shuddering consciousness of the unchecked savagery of
+      those last moments on the keel boat; she was still hearing the oaths of
+      the men as they struggled together, the sound of blows, and the dreadful
+      silences that had followed them. She turned from him, and there came the
+      relief of tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, Betty, the danger is over now and you were so brave while it
+      lasted. I can't bear to have you cry!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was wild with fear&mdash;all that time on the boat, Bruce&mdash;&rdquo; she
+      faltered between her sobs. &ldquo;I didn't know but they would find you out. I
+      could only wait and hope&mdash;and pray!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was in no danger, dear. Didn't the girl tell you I was to take the
+      place of a man Slosson was expecting? He never doubted that I was that man
+      until a light&mdash;a signal it must have been&mdash;on the shore at the
+      head of the bayou betrayed me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are we going now, Bruce? Not the way they went&mdash;&rdquo; and Betty
+      glanced out into the black void where the keel boat had merged into the
+      gloom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no&mdash;but we can't get the raft back up-stream against the
+      current, so the best thing is to land at the Bates' plantation below here;
+      then as soon as you are able we can return to Belle Plain,&rdquo; said
+      Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was an interval broken only by the occasional sweep of the great
+      steering oar as Cavendish coaxed the raft out toward the channel. The
+      thought of Charley Norton's murder rested on Carrington like a pall.
+      Scarcely a week had elapsed since he quitted Thicket Point and in that
+      week the hand of death had dealt with them impartially, and to what end?
+      Then the miles he had traversed in his hopeless journey up-river
+      translated themselves into a division of time as well as space. They were
+      just so much further removed from the past with its blight of tragic
+      terror. He turned and glanced at Betty. He saw that her eyes held their
+      steady look of wistful pity that was for the dead man; yet in spite of
+      this, and in spite of the bounds beyond which he would not let his
+      imagination carry him, the future enriched with sudden promise unfolded
+      itself. The deep sense of recovered hope stirred within him. He knew there
+      must come a day when he would dare to speak of his love, and she would
+      listen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's best we should land at Bates' place&mdash;we can get teams there,&rdquo;
+       he went on to explain. &ldquo;And, Betty, wherever we go we'll go together,
+      dear. Cavendish doesn't look as if he had any very urgent business of his
+      own, and I reckon the same is true of Yancy, so I am going to keep them
+      with us. There are some points to be cleared up when we reach Belle Plain&mdash;some
+      folks who'll have a lot to explain or else quit this part of the state!
+      And I intend to see that you are not left alone until&mdash;until I have
+      the right to take care of you for good and all&mdash;that's what you want
+      me to do one of these days, isn't it, darling?&rdquo; and his eyes, glowing and
+      infinitely tender, dwelt on her upturned face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Betty shrank from him in involuntary agitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, not now, Bruce&mdash;not now&mdash;we mustn't speak of that&mdash;it's
+      wrong&mdash;it's wicked&mdash;you mustn't make me forget him!&rdquo; she cried
+      brokenly, in protest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forgive me, Betty, I'll not speak of it again,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait, Bruce, and some time&mdash;Oh, don't make me say it,&rdquo; she gasped,
+      &ldquo;or I shall hate myself!&rdquo; for in his presence she was feeling the horror
+      of her past experience grow strangely remote, only the dull ache of her
+      memories remained, and to these she clung. They were silent for a moment,
+      then Carrington said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After I'm sure you'll be safe here perhaps I'll go south into the Choctaw
+      Purchase. I've been thinking of that recently; but I'll find my way back
+      here&mdash;don't misunderstand me&mdash;I'll not come too soon for even
+      you, Betty. I loved Norton. He was one of my best friends, too,&rdquo; he
+      continued gently. &ldquo;But you know&mdash;and I know&mdash;dear, the day will
+      come when no matter where you are I shall find you again&mdash;find you
+      and not lose you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty made no answer in words, but a soft and eloquent little hand was
+      slipped into his and allowed to rest there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently a light wind stirred the dead dense atmosphere, the mist lifted
+      and enveloped the shore, showing them the river between piled-up masses of
+      vapor. Apparently it ran for their raft alone. It was just twenty-four
+      hours since Carrington had looked upon such another night but this was a
+      different world the gray fog was unmasking&mdash;a world of hopes, and
+      dreams, and rich content. Then the thought of Norton&mdash;poor Norton who
+      had had his world, too, of hopes and dreams and rich content&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The calm of a highly domestic existence had resumed its interrupted sway
+      on the raft. Mr. Cavendish, associated in Betty's memory with certain
+      earsplitting manifestations of ferocious rage, became in the bosom of his
+      family low-voiced and genial and hopelessly impotent to deal with his five
+      small sons; while Yancy was again the Bob Yancy of Scratch Hill, violence
+      of any sort apparently had no place in his nature. He was deeply absorbed
+      in Hannibal's account of those vicissitudes which had befallen him during
+      their separation. They were now seated before a cheerful fire that blazed
+      on the hearth, the boy very close to Yancy with one hand clasped in the
+      Scratch Hiller's, while about them were ranged the six small Cavendishes
+      sedately sharing in the reunion of uncle and nevvy, toward which they felt
+      they had honorably labored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you wa'n't dead, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; said Hannibal with a deep breath,
+      viewing Yancy unmistakably in the flesh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never once. I been floating peacefully along with these here titled
+      friends of mine; but I was some anxious about you, son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Mr. Slosson, Uncle Bob&mdash;did you smack him like you smacked Dave
+      Blount that day when he tried to steal me?&rdquo; asked Hannibal, whose childish
+      sense of justice demanded reparation for the wrongs they had suffered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Yancy extended a big right hand, the knuckle of which was skinned and
+      bruised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He were the meanest man I ever felt obliged fo' to hit with my fist,
+      Nevvy; it appeared like he had teeth all over his face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho&mdash;where's his hide, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; cried the little Cavendishes in
+      an excited chorus. &ldquo;Sho&mdash;did you forget that?&rdquo; They themselves had
+      forgotten the unique enterprise to which Mr. Yancy was committed, but the
+      allusion to Slosson had revived their memory of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he begged so piteous to be allowed fo' to keep his hide, I hadn't
+      the heart to strip it off,&rdquo; explained Mr. Yancy pleasantly. &ldquo;And the
+      winter's comin' onat this moment I can feel a chill in the air&mdash;don't
+      you-all reckon he's goin' to need it fo' to keep the cold out,' Sho', you
+      mustn't be bloody-minded!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was it about Mr. Slosson's hide, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; demanded Hannibal.
+      &ldquo;What was you a-goin' to do to that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nevvy, after he beat me up and throwed me in the river, I was some
+      peevish fo' a spell in my feelings fo' him,&rdquo; said Yancy, in a tone of
+      gentle regret. He glanced at his bruised hand. &ldquo;But I'm right pleased to
+      be able to say that I've got over all them oncharitable thoughts of mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you seen the judge, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; questioned Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I've seen the judge. We was together fo' part of a day. Me and him
+      gets on fine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he now, Uncle Bob?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon he's back at Belle Plain by this time. You see we left him in
+      Raleigh along after noon to 'tend to some business he had on hand. I never
+      seen a gentleman of his weight so truly spry on his legs&mdash;and all
+      about you, Nevvy; while as to mind! Sho&mdash;why, words flowed out of him
+      as naturally as water out of a branch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Of Hannibal's relationship to the judge he said nothing. He felt that was
+      a secret to be revealed by the judge himself when he should see fit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle Bob, who'm I going to live with now?&rdquo; questioned Hannibal
+      anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That p'int's already come up, Nevvy&mdash;him and me's decided that there
+      won't be no friction. You-all will just go on living with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what about you, Uncle Bob?&rdquo; cried Hannibal, lifting a wistful little
+      face to Yancy's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, me?&mdash;well, you-all will go right on living with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what will come of Mr. Mahaffy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon you-all will go right on living with him, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle Bob, you mean you reckon we are all going to live in one house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I 'low it will have to be fixed that-a-ways,&rdquo; agreed Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIII. THE JUDGE RECEIVES A LETTER
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      After he had parted with Solomon Mahaffy the judge applied himself
+      diligently to shaping that miracle-working document which he was preparing
+      as an offset to whatever risk he ran in meeting Fentress. As sanguine as
+      he was sanguinary he confidently expected to survive the encounter, yet it
+      was well to provide for a possible emergency&mdash;had he not his
+      grandson's future to consider? While thus occupied he saw the afternoon
+      stage arrive and depart from before the City Tavern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Half an hour later Mr. Wesley, the postmaster, came sauntering up the
+      street. In his hand he carried a letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Howdy,&rdquo; he drawled, from just beyond the judge's open door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge glanced up, his quill pen poised aloft.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good evening, sir; won't you step inside and be seated?&rdquo; he asked
+      graciously. His dealings with the United States mail service were of the
+      most insignificant description, and in personally delivering a letter, if
+      this was what had brought him there, he felt Mr. Wesley had reached the
+      limit of official courtesy and despatch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir; it looks like you'd never told us more than two-thirds of the
+      truth!&rdquo; said the postmaster. He surveyed the judge curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am complimented by your opinion of my veracity,&rdquo; responded that
+      gentleman promptly. &ldquo;I consider two-thirds an enormously high per cent to
+      have achieved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is something in that, too,&rdquo; agreed Mr. Wesley. &ldquo;Who is Colonel
+      Slocum Price Turberville?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge started up from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have that honor,&rdquo; said he, bowing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, here's a letter come in addressed like that, and as you've been
+      using part of the name I am willing to assume you're legally entitled to
+      the rest of it. It clears up a point that off and on has troubled me
+      considerable. I can only wonder I wa'n't smarter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What point, may I ask?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, about the time you hung out your shingle here, some one wrote a
+      letter to General Jackson. It was mailed after night, and when I seen it
+      in the morning I was clean beat. I couldn't locate the handwriting and yet
+      I kept that letter back a couple of days and give it all my spare time. It
+      ain't that I'm one of your spying sort&mdash;there's nothing of the Yankee
+      about me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; agreed the judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Candid, Judge, I reckon you wrote that letter, seeing this one comes
+      under a frank from Washington. No, sir&mdash;I couldn't make out who was
+      corresponding with the president and it worried me, not knowing, more than
+      anything I've had to contend against since I came into office. I calculate
+      there ain't a postmaster in the United States takes a more personal
+      interest in the service than me. I've frequently set patrons right when
+      they was in doubt as to the date they had mailed such and such a letter.&rdquo;
+       As Mr. Wesley sometimes canceled as many as three or four stamps in a
+      single day he might have been pardoned his pride in a brain which thus
+      lightly dealt with the burden of official business. He surrendered the
+      letter with marked reluctance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your surmise is correct,&rdquo; said the judge with dignity. &ldquo;I had occasion to
+      write my friend, General Jackson, and unless I am greatly mistaken I have
+      my answer here.&rdquo; And with a fine air of indifference he tossed the letter
+      on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do you know Old Hickory?&rdquo; cried Mr. Wesley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? Does it surprise you?&rdquo; inquired the judge. It was only his
+      innate courtesy which restrained him from kicking the postmaster into the
+      street, so intense was his desire to be rid of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I don't know as it does, judge. Naturally a public man like him is in
+      the way of meeting with all sorts. A politician can't afford to be too
+      blame particular. Well, next time you write you might just send him my
+      regards&mdash;G. W. M. de L. Wesley's regards&mdash;there was considerable
+      contention over my getting this office; I reckon he ain't forgot. There
+      was speeches made, I understand the lie was passed between two United
+      States senators, and that a quid of tobacco was throwed in anger.&rdquo; Having
+      thus clearly established the fact that he was a more or less national
+      character, Mr. Wesley took himself off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When he had disappeared from sight down the street, the judge closed the
+      door. Then he picked up the letter. For along minute he held it in his
+      hand, uncertain, fearful, while his mind slipped back into the past until
+      his inward searching vision ferreted out a handsome soldierly figure&mdash;his
+      own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what Jackson remembers if he remembers anything!&rdquo; he muttered, as
+      with trembling fingers he broke the seal. Almost instantly a smile
+      overspread his battered features. He hitched his chin higher and squared
+      his ponderous shoulders. &ldquo;I am not forgotten&mdash;no, damn it&mdash;no!&rdquo;
+       he exulted under his breath, &ldquo;recalls me with sincere esteem and considers
+      my services to the country as well worthy of recognition&mdash;&rdquo; the judge
+      breathed deep. What would Mahaffy find to say now! Certainly this was well
+      calculated to disturb the sour cynicism of his friend. His bleared eyes
+      brimmed. After all his groping he had touched hands with the realities at
+      last! Even a federal judgeship, though not an office of the first repute
+      in the south had its dignity&mdash;it signified something! He would make
+      Solomon his clerk! The judge reached for his hat. Mahaffy must know at
+      once that fortune had mended for them. Why, at that moment he was actually
+      in receipt of an income!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sat down, the better to enjoy the unique sensation. Taxes were being
+      levied and collected with no other end in view than his stipend&mdash;his
+      ardent fancy saw the whole machinery of government in operation for his
+      benefit. It was a singular feeling he experienced. Then promptly his
+      spendthrift brain became active. He needed clothes&mdash;so did Mahaffy&mdash;so
+      did his grandson; they must take a larger house; he would buy himself a
+      man servant; these were pressing necessities as he now viewed them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once again he reached for his hat, the desire to rush off to Belle Plain
+      was overmastering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I'd be justified in hiring a conveyance from Pegloe,&rdquo; he
+      thought, but just here he had a saving memory of his unfinished task; that
+      claimed precedence and he resumed his pen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An hour later Pegloe's black boy presented himself to the judge. He came
+      bearing a gift, and the gift appropriately enough was a square case bottle
+      of respectable size. The judge was greatly touched by this attention, but
+      he began by making a most temperate use of the tavern-keeper's offering;
+      then as the formidable document he was preparing took shape under his hand
+      he more and more lost that feeling of Spartan fortitude which had at first
+      sustained him in the presence of temptation. He wrote and sipped in
+      complete and quiet luxury, and when at last he had exhausted the contents
+      of the bottle it occurred to him that it would be only proper personally
+      to convey his thanks to Pegloe. Perhaps he was not uninspired in this by
+      ulterior hopes; if so, they were richly rewarded. The resources of the
+      City Tavern were suddenly placed at his disposal. He attributed this to a
+      variety of causes all good and sufficient, but the real reason never
+      suggested itself, indeed it was of such a perfidious nature that the
+      judge, open and generous-minded, could not have grasped it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By six o'clock he was undeniably drunk; at eight he was sounding still
+      deeper depths of inebriety with only the most confused memory of impending
+      events; at ten he collapsed and was borne up-stairs by Pegloe and his
+      black boy to a remote chamber in the kitchen wing. Here he was undressed
+      and put to bed, and the tavernkeeper, making a bundle of his clothes,
+      retired from the room, locking the door after him, and the judge was
+      doubly a prisoner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rousing at last from a heavy dreamless sleep the judge was aware of a
+      faint impalpable light in his room, the ashen light of a dull October
+      dawn. He was aware, too, of a feeling of profound depression. He knew this
+      was the aftermath of indulgence and that he might look forward to
+      forty-eight hours of utter misery of soul, and, groaning aloud, he closed
+      his eyes, Sleep was the thing if he could compass it. Instead, his memory
+      quickened. Something was to happen at sunup&mdash;he could not recall what
+      it was to be, though he distinctly remembered that Mahaffy had spoken of
+      this very matter&mdash;Mahaffy, the austere and implacable, the
+      disembodied conscience whose fealty to duty had somehow survived his own
+      spiritual ruin, so that he had become a sort of moral sign-post, ever
+      pointing the way yet never going it himself. The judge lay still and
+      thought deeply as the light intensified itself. What was it that Mahaffy
+      had said he was to do at sun-up? The very hour accented his suspicions.
+      Probably it was no more than some cheerless obligation to be met, or
+      Mahaffy would not have been so concerned about it. Eventually he decided
+      to refer everything to Mahaffy. He spoke his friend's name weakly and in a
+      shaking voice, but received no answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon!&rdquo; he repeated, and shifting his position, looked in what should
+      have been the direction of the shake-down bed his friend occupied. Neither
+      the bed nor Mahaffy were there. The judge gasped he wondered if this were
+      not a premonition of certain hallucinations to which he was not a
+      stranger. Then all in a flash he remembered Fentress and the meeting at
+      Boggs', something of how the evening had been spent, and a spasm of regret
+      shook him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had other things to think of. This must never happen again!&rdquo; he told
+      himself remorsefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was wide-awake now. Doubtless Pegloe had put him to bed. Well, that had
+      been thoughtful of Pegloe&mdash;he would not forget him&mdash;the City
+      Tavern should continue to enjoy his patronage. It would be something for
+      Pegloe to boast of that judge Slocum Price Turberville always made his
+      place headquarters when in Raleigh. Feeling that he had already conferred
+      wealth and distinction on the fortunate Pegloe the judge thrust his fat
+      legs over the side of his bed and stood erect. Stooping he reached for his
+      clothes. He confidently expected to find them on the floor, but his hand
+      merely swept an uncarpeted waste. The judge was profoundly astonished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe I've got 'em on, I don't recall taking them off!&rdquo; he thought
+      hopefully. He moved uncertainly in the direction of the window where the
+      light showed him his own bare extremities. He reverted to his original
+      idea that his clothes were scattered about the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was beginning to experience a great sense of haste, it was two miles to
+      Boggs' and Fentress would be there at sun-up. Finally he abandoned his
+      quest of the missing garments and turned to the door. To say that he was
+      amazed when he found it locked would have most inadequately described his
+      emotions. Breathing deep, he fell back a step or two, and then with all
+      the vigor he could muster launched himself at the door. But it resisted
+      him. &ldquo;It's bolted on the other side!&rdquo; he muttered, the full measure of
+      Pegloe's perfidy revealing itself to his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was aghast. It was a plot to discredit him. Pegloe's hospitality had
+      been inspired by his enemy, for Pegloe was Fentress' tenant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again he attacked the door; he believed it might be possible to force it
+      from its hinges, but Pegloe had done his work too well for that, and at
+      last, spent and breathless, the judge dropped down on the edge of his bed
+      to consider the situation. He was without clothes and he was a prisoner,
+      yet his mind rose splendidly to meet the difficulties that beset him. His
+      greatest activities were reserved for what appeared to be only a season of
+      despair. He armed himself with a threelegged stool he had found and turned
+      once more to the door, but the stout planks stood firm under his blows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unless I get out of here in time I'm a ruined man!&rdquo; thought the judge.
+      &ldquo;After this Fentress will refuse to meet me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The window next engaged his attention. That, too, Pegloe had taken the
+      precaution to fasten, but a single savage blow of the stool shattered
+      glass and sash and left an empty space that framed the dawn's red glow.
+      The judge looked out and shook his head dubiously. It was twelve feet or
+      more to the ground, a risky drop for a gentleman of his years and build.
+      The judge considered making a rope of his bedding and lowering himself to
+      the ground by means of it, he remembered to have read of captives in that
+      interesting French prison, the Bastille, who did this. However, an equally
+      ingenious but much more simple use for his bedding occurred to him; it
+      would form a soft and yielding substance on which to alight. He gathered
+      it up into his arms, feather-tick and all, and pushed it through the
+      window, then he wriggled out across the ledge, feet first, and lowering
+      himself to the full length of his arms, dropped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He landed squarely on the rolled-up bed with a jar that shook him to his
+      center. Almost gaily he snatched up a quilt, draping it about him after
+      the manner of a Roman, toga, and thus lightly habited, started across Mr.
+      Pegloe's truck-patch, his one thought Boggs' and the sun. It would have
+      served no purpose to have gone home, since his entire wardrobe, except for
+      the shirt on his back, was in the tavern-keeper's possession, besides he
+      had not a moment to lose, for the sun was peeping at him over the horizon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Unobserved he gained the edge of the town and the highroad that led past
+      Boggs' and stole a fearful glance over his shoulder. The sun was clear of
+      the treetops, he could even feel the lifeless dust grow warm beneath his
+      feet; and wrapping the quilt closer about him he broke into a labored run.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some twenty minutes later Boggs' came in sight. He experienced a moment of
+      doubt&mdash;suppose Fentress had been there and gone! It was a hideous
+      thought and the judge groaned. Then at the other end of the meadow near
+      the woods he distinguished several men, Fentress and his friends beyond
+      question. The judge laughed aloud. In spite of everything he was keeping
+      his engagement, he was plucking his triumph out of the very dregs of
+      failure. The judge threw himself over the fence, a corner of the quilt
+      caught on one of the rails; he turned to release it, and in that instant
+      two pistol shots rang out sharply in the morning air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIV. THE DUEL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It had been with no little reluctance that Solomon Mahaffy accompanied
+      Yancy and Cavendish to Belle Plain; he would have preferred to remain in
+      Raleigh in attendance upon judge Price. Intimately acquainted with the
+      judge's mental processes, he could follow all the devious workings of that
+      magnificent mind; he could fathom the simply hellish ingenuity he was
+      capable of putting forth to accomplish temporary benefits. Permitting his
+      thoughts to dwell upon the mingled strength and weakness which was so
+      curiously blended in Slocum Price's character, he had horrid visions of
+      that great soul, freed from the trammels of restraint, confiding his
+      melancholy history to Mr. Pegloe in the hope of bolstering his fallen
+      credit at the City Tavern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Always where the judge was concerned he fluctuated between extremes of
+      doubt and confidence. He felt that under the urgent spur of occasion his
+      friend could rise to any emergency, while a sustained activity made
+      demands which he could not satisfy; then his efforts were discounted by
+      his insane desire to realize at once on his opportunities; in his haste he
+      was for ever plucking unripe fruit; and though he might keep one eye on
+      the main chance the other was fixed just as resolutely on the nearest
+      tavern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the great stake which fate had suddenly introduced into their losing
+      game, he wished earnestly to believe that the judge would stay quietly in
+      his office and complete the task he had set himself; that with this off
+      his hands the promise of excitement at Belle Plain would compel his
+      presence there, when he would pass somewhat under the restraining
+      influence which he was determined to exert; in short, to Solomon, life
+      embraced just the one vital consideration, which was to maintain the judge
+      in a state of sobriety until after his meeting with Fentress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The purple of twilight was stealing over the land when he and his two
+      companions reached Belle Plain. They learned that Tom Ware had returned
+      from Memphis, that the bayou had been dragged but without results, and
+      that as yet nothing had been heard from Carrington or the dogs he had gone
+      for.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently Cavendish and Yancy set off across the fields. They were going
+      on to the raft, to Polly and the six little Cavendishes, whom they had not
+      seen since early morning; but they promised to be back at Belle Plain
+      within an hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By very nature an alien, Mahaffy sought out a dark corner on the wide
+      porch that overlooked the river to await their return. The house had been
+      thrown open, and supper was being served to whoever cared to stay and
+      partake of it. The murmur of idle purposeless talk drifted out to him; he
+      was irritated and offended by it. There was something garish in this
+      indiscriminate hospitality in the very home of tragedy. As the moments
+      slipped by his sense of displeasure increased, with mankind in general,
+      with himself, and with the judge&mdash;principally with the judge&mdash;who
+      was to make a foolish target of himself in the morning. He was going to
+      give the man who had wrecked his life a chance to take it as well.
+      Mahaffy's cold logic dealt cynically with the preposterous situation his
+      friend had created.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the midst of his angry meditations he heard a clock strike in the hall
+      and counted the strokes. It was nine o'clock. Surely Yancy and Cavendish
+      had been gone their hour! He quitted his seat and strolled restlessly
+      about the house. He felt deeply indignant with everybody and everything.
+      Human intelligence seemed but a pitiable advance on brute instinct. A
+      whole day had passed and what had been accomplished? Carrington, the
+      judge, Yancy, Cavendish&mdash;the four men who might have worked together
+      to some purpose had widely separated themselves; and here was the duel,
+      the very climax of absurdity. He resumed his dark corner and waited
+      another hour. Still no Carrington, and Yancy and Cavendish had not come up
+      from the raft.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fools!&rdquo; thought Mahaffy bitterly. &ldquo;All of them fools!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At last he decided to go back to the judge; and a moment later was
+      hurrying down the lane in the direction of the highroad, but, jaded as he
+      was by the effort he had already put forth that day, the walk to Raleigh
+      made tremendous demands on him, and it was midnight when he entered the
+      little town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It can not be said that he was altogether surprised when he found their
+      cottage dark and apparently deserted. He had half expected this. Entering,
+      and not stopping to secure a candle, he groped his way up-stairs to the
+      room on the second floor which he and the judge shared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Price!&rdquo; he called, but this gained him no response, and he cursed softly
+      under his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He hastily descended to the kitchen, lighted a candle, and stepped into
+      the adjoining room. On the table was a neat pile of papers, and topping
+      the pile was the president's letter. Being burdened by no false scruples,
+      and thinking it might afford some clue to the judge's whereabouts, Mahaffy
+      took it up and read it. Having mastered its contents he instantly glanced
+      in the direction of the City Tavern, but it was wrapped in darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Price is drunk somewhere,&rdquo; was his definite conclusion. &ldquo;But he'll be at
+      Boggs' the first thing in the morning&mdash;most likely so far gone he can
+      hardly stand!&rdquo; The letter, with its striking news, made little or no
+      impression on him just then; it merely furnished the clue he had sought.
+      The judge was off somewhere marketing his prospects.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After a time Mahaffy went up-stairs, and, without removing his clothes,
+      threw himself on the bed. He was worn down to the point of exhaustion, yet
+      he could not sleep, though the deep silence warned him that day was not
+      far off. What if&mdash;but he would not let the thought shape itself in
+      his mind. He had witnessed the judge's skill with the pistol, and he had
+      even a certain irrational faith in that gentleman's destiny. He prayed God
+      that Fentress might die quickly and decently with the judge's bullet
+      through his brain. Over and over in savage supplication he muttered his
+      prayer that Fentress might die.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He began to watch for the coming of the dawn, but before the darkness
+      lifted he had risen from the bed and gone downstairs, where he made
+      himself a cup of wretched coffee. Then he blew out his candle and watched
+      the gray light spread. He was impatient now to be off, and fully an hour
+      before the sun, set out for Boggs', a tall, gaunt figure in the shadowy
+      uncertainty of that October morning. He was the first to reach the place
+      of meeting, but he had scarcely entered the meadow when Fentress rode up,
+      attended by Tom Ware. They dismounted, and the colonel lifted his hat.
+      Mahaffy barely acknowledged the salute; he was in no mood for courtesies
+      that meant nothing. Ware was clearly of the same mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was an awkward pause, then Fentress and Ware spoke together in a low
+      tone. The planter's speech was broken and hoarse, and his heavy, bloodshot
+      eyes were the eyes of a haunted man; this was all a part of Fentress'
+      scheme to face the world, and Ware still believed that the fires Hicks had
+      kindled had served his desperate need.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the first long shadows stole out from the edge of the woods Fentress
+      turned to Mahaffy, whose glance was directed toward the distant corner of
+      the field, where he knew his friend must first appear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why are we waiting, sir?&rdquo; he demanded, his tone cold and formal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something has occurred to detain Price,&rdquo; answered Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel and Ware exchanged looks. Again they spoke together, while
+      Mahaffy watched the road. Ten minutes slipped by in this manner, and once
+      more Fentress addressed Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know what could have detained him?&rdquo; he inquired, the ghost of a
+      smile curling his thin lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't,&rdquo; said Mahaffy, and relapsed into a moody and anxious silence. He
+      held dueling in very proper abhorrence, and only his feeling of intense
+      but never-declared loyalty to his friend had brought him there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another interval of waiting succeeded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have about reached the end of my patience; I shall wait just ten
+      minutes longer,&rdquo; said Fentress, and drew out his watch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something has happened&mdash;&rdquo; began Mahaffy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have kept my engagement; he should have kept his,&rdquo; Fentress continued,
+      addressing Ware. &ldquo;I am sorry to have brought you here for nothing, Tom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait!&rdquo; said Mahaffy, planting himself squarely before Fentress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I consider this comic episode at an end,&rdquo; and Fentress pocketed his
+      watch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scarcely!&rdquo; rejoined Mahaffy. His long arm shot out and the open palm of
+      his hand descended on the colonel's face. &ldquo;I am here for my friend,&rdquo; he
+      said grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel's face paled and colored by turns.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you a weapon?&rdquo; he asked, when he could command his voice. Mahaffy
+      exhibited the pistol he had carried to Belle Plain the day before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Step off the ground, Tom.&rdquo; Fentress spoke quietly. When Ware had done as
+      he requested, the colonel spoke again. &ldquo;You are my witness that I was the
+      victim of an unprovoked attack.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ware accepted this statement with equanimity, not to say indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you ready?&rdquo; he asked; he glanced at Mahaffy, who by a slight
+      inclination of the head signified that he was. &ldquo;I reckon you're a green
+      hand at this sort of thing?&rdquo; commented Tom evilly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mahaffy tersely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, listen: I shall count, one, two, three; at the word three you will
+      fire. Now take your positions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy and the colonel stood facing each other, a distance of twelve
+      paces separating them. Mahaffy was pale but dogged, he eyed Fentress
+      unflinchingly. Quick on the word Fentress fired, an instant later
+      Mahaffy's pistol exploded; apparently neither bullet had taken effect, the
+      two men maintained the rigid attitude they had assumed; then Mahaffy was
+      seen to turn on his heels, next his arm dropped to his side and the pistol
+      slipped from his fingers, a look of astonishment passed over his face and
+      left it vacant and staring while his right hand stole up toward his heart;
+      he raised it slowly, with difficulty, as though it were held down by some
+      invisible weight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A hush spread across the field. It was like one of nature's invisible
+      transitions. Along the edge of the woods the song of birds was stricken
+      into silence. Ware, heavy-eyed Fentress, his lips twisted by a tortured
+      smile, watched Mahaffy as he panted for breath, with his hand clenched
+      against his chest. That dead oppressive silence lasted but a moment, from
+      out of it came a cry that smote on the wounded man's ears and reached his
+      consciousness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Price&mdash;&rdquo; he gasped, his words bathed in blood, and he pitched
+      forward on his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ware and Fentress had heard the cry, too, and running to their horses
+      threw themselves into the saddle and galloped off. The judge midway of the
+      meadow roared out a furious protest but the mounted men turned into the
+      highroad and vanished from sight, and the judge's shaking legs bore him
+      swiftly in the direction of the gaunt figure on the ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mahaffy struggled to rise, for he was hearing his friend's voice now, the
+      voice of utter anguish, calling his name. At last painful effort brought
+      him to his knees. He saw the judge, clothed principally in a gaily colored
+      bed-quilt, hatless and shoeless, his face sodden and bleary from his
+      night's debauch. Mahaffy stood erect and staggered toward him, his hand
+      over his wound, his features drawn and livid, then with a cry he dropped
+      at his friend's feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon! Solomon!&rdquo; And the judge knelt beside him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all right, Price; I kept your appointment,&rdquo; whispered Mahaffy; a
+      bloody spume was gathering on his lips, and he stared up at his friend
+      with glassy eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In very shame the judge hid his face in his hands, while sobs shook him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon&mdash;Solomon, why did you do this?&rdquo; he cried miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The harsh lines on the dying man's face erased themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're the only friend I've known in twenty years of loneliness, Price.
+      I've loved you like a brother,&rdquo; he panted, with a pause between each word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the judge buried his face in his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it, Solomon&mdash;I know it!&rdquo; he moaned wretchedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Price, you are still a man to be reckoned with. There's the boy; take
+      your place for his sake and keep it&mdash;you can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will&mdash;by God, I will!&rdquo; gasped the judge. &ldquo;You hear me? You hear
+      me, Solomon? By God's good help, I will!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have the president's letter&mdash;I saw it,&rdquo; said Mahaffy in a
+      whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; cried the judge. &ldquo;Solomon, the world is changing for us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For me most of all,&rdquo; murmured Mahaffy, and there was a bleak instant when
+      the judge's ashen countenance held the full pathos of age and failure.
+      &ldquo;Remember your oath, Price,&rdquo; gasped the dying man. A moment of silence
+      succeeded. Mahaffy's eyes closed, then the heavy lids slid back. He looked
+      up at the judge while the harsh lines of his sour old face softened
+      wonderfully. &ldquo;Kiss me, Price,&rdquo; he whispered, and as the judge bent to
+      touch him on the brow, the softened lines fixed themselves in death, while
+      on his lips lingered a smile that was neither bitter nor sneering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXV. A CRISIS AT THE COURT-HOUSE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In that bare upper room they had shared, the judge, crushed and broken,
+      watched beside the bed on which the dead man lay; unconscious of the
+      flight of time he sat with his head bowed in his hands, having scarcely
+      altered his position since he begged those who carried Mahaffy up the
+      narrow stairs to leave him alone with his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was living over the past. He recalled his first meeting with Mahaffy in
+      the stuffy cabin of the small river packet from which they had later gone
+      ashore at Pleasantville; he thanked God that it had been given him to see
+      beneath Solomon's forbidding exterior and into that starved heart! He
+      reviewed each phase of the almost insensible growth of their intimacy; he
+      remembered Mahaffy's fine true loyalty at the time of his arrest&mdash;he
+      thought of Damon and Pythias&mdash;Mahaffy had reached the heights of a
+      sublime devotion; he could only feel enobled that he had inspired it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last the dusk of twilight invaded the room. He lighted the candles on
+      the chimneypiece, then he resumed his seat and his former attitude.
+      Suddenly he became aware of a small hand that was resting on his arm and
+      glanced up; Hannibal had stolen quietly into the room. The boy pointed to
+      the still figure on the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judge, what makes Mr. Mahaffy lie so quiet&mdash;is he dead?&rdquo; he asked in
+      a whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear lad,&rdquo; began the judge in a shaking voice as he drew Hannibal
+      toward him, &ldquo;your friend and mine is dead&mdash;we have lost him.&rdquo; He
+      lifted the boy into his lap, and Hannibal pressed a tear-stained face
+      against the judge's shoulder. &ldquo;How did you get here?&rdquo; the judge questioned
+      gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle Bob fetched me,&rdquo; said Hannibal. &ldquo;He's down-stairs, but he didn't
+      tell me Mr. Mahaffy was dead-&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have sustained a great loss, Hannibal, and we must never forget the
+      moral grandeur of the man. Some day, when you are older, and I can bring
+      myself to speak of it, I will tell you of his last moments.&rdquo; The judge's
+      voice broke, a thick sob rose chokingly in his throat. &ldquo;Poor Solomon! A
+      man of such tender feeling that he hid it from the world, for his was a
+      rare nature which only revealed itself to the chosen few he honored with
+      his love.&rdquo; The judge lapsed into a momentary brooding silence, in which
+      his great arms drew the boy closer against his heart. &ldquo;Dear lad, since I
+      left you at Belle Plain a very astonishing knowledge has come to me. It
+      was the Hand of Providence&mdash;I see it now&mdash;that first brought us
+      together. You must not call me judge any more; I am your grandfather your
+      mother was my daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal instantly sat erect and looked up at the judge, his blue eyes
+      wide with amazement at this extraordinary statement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a very strange story, Hannibal, and its links are not all in my
+      hands, but I am sure because of what I already know. I, who thought that
+      not a drop of my blood flowed in any veins but my own, live again in you.
+      Do you understand what I am telling you? Your are my own dear little
+      grandson&mdash;&rdquo; and the judge looked down with no uncertain love and
+      pride into the small face upturned to his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad if you are my grandfather, judge,&rdquo; said Hannibal very gravely.
+      &ldquo;I always liked you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, dear lad,&rdquo; responded the judge with equal gravity, and then as
+      Hannibal nestled back in his grandfather's arms a single big tear dropped
+      from the end of that gentleman's prominent nose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There will be many and great changes in store for us,&rdquo; continued the
+      judge. &ldquo;But as we met adversity with dignity, I am sure we shall be able
+      to endure prosperity with equanimity, only unworthy natures are affected
+      by what is at best superficial and accidental. I mean that the blight of
+      poverty is about to be lifted from our lives.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?&rdquo; asked
+      Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge regarded him with infinite tenderness of expression; he was
+      profoundly moved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you mind saying that again, dear lad?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?&rdquo; repeated
+      Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall enjoy an adequate competency which I am about to recover. It will
+      be sufficient for the indulgence of those simple and intellectual tastes I
+      propose to cultivate for the future.&rdquo; In spite of himself the judge
+      sighed. This was hardly in line with his ideals, but the right to choose
+      was no longer his. &ldquo;You will be very rich, Hannibal. The Quintard lands&mdash;your
+      grandmother was a Quintard&mdash;will be yours; they run up into the
+      hundred of thousand of acres here about; this land will all be yours as
+      soon as I can establish your identity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will Uncle Bob be rich too?&rdquo; inquired Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly. How can he be poor when we possess wealth?&rdquo; answered the
+      judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You reckon he will always live with us, don't you, grandfather?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would not have it otherwise. I admire Mr. Yancy&mdash;he is simple and
+      direct, and fit for any company under heaven except that of fools. His
+      treatment of you has placed me under everlasting obligations; he shall
+      share what we have. My one bitter, unavailing regret is that Solomon
+      Mahaffy will not be here to partake of our altered fortunes.&rdquo; And the
+      judge sighed deeply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle Bob told me Mr. Mahaffy got hurt in a duel, grandfather?&rdquo; said
+      Hannibal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was as inexperienced as a child in the use of firearms, and he had to
+      deal with scoundrels who had neither mercy nor generous feeling&mdash;but
+      his courage was magnificent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently Hannibal was deep in his account of those adventures he had
+      shared with Miss Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Miss Malroy&mdash;where is she now?&rdquo; asked the judge, in the first
+      pause of the boy's narrative.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's at Mr. Bowen's house. Mr. Carrington and Mr. Cavendish are here
+      too. Mrs. Cavendish stayed down yonder at the Bates' plantation.
+      Grandfather, it were Captain Murrell who had me stole&mdash;do you reckon
+      he was going to take me back to Mr. Bladen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will see Miss Malroy in the morning. We must combine&mdash;our
+      interests are identical. There should be hemp in this for more than one
+      scoundrel! I can see now how criminal my disinclination to push myself to
+      the front has been!&rdquo; said the judge, with conviction. &ldquo;Never again will I
+      shrink from what I know to be a public duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later they went down-stairs, where the judge had Yancy make up a
+      bed for himself and Hannibal on the floor. He would watch alone beside
+      Mahaffy, he was certain this would have been the dead man's wish; then he
+      said good night and mounted heavily to the floor above to resume his vigil
+      and his musings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just at daybreak Yancy was roused by the pressure of a hand on his
+      shoulder, and opening his eyes saw that the judge was bending over him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dress!&rdquo; he said briefly. &ldquo;There's every prospect of trouble&mdash;get
+      your rifle and come with me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy noted that this prospect of trouble seemed to afford the judge a
+      pleasurable sensation; indeed, he had quite lost his former air of somber
+      and suppressed melancholy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I let you sleep, thinking you needed the rest,&rdquo; the judge went on. &ldquo;But
+      ever since midnight we've been on the verge of riot and possible
+      bloodshed. They've arrested John Murrell&mdash;it's claimed he's planned a
+      servile rebellion! A man named Hues, who had wormed his way into his
+      confidence, made the arrest. He carried Murrell into Memphis, but the
+      local magistrate, intimidated, most likely, declined to have anything to
+      do with holding him. In spite of this, Hues managed to get his prisoner
+      lodged in jail, but along about nightfall the situation began to look
+      serious. Folks were swarming into town armed to the teeth, and Hues
+      fetched Murrell across country to Raleigh&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes?&rdquo; said Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the sheriff has refused to take Murrell into custody. Hues has him
+      down at the court-house, but whether or not he is going to be able to hold
+      him is another matter!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Yancy and Hannibal had dressed by this time, and the judge led the way
+      from the house. The Scratch Hiller looked about him. Across the street a
+      group of men, the greater number of whom were armed, stood in front of
+      Pegloe's tavern. Glancing in the direction of the court-house, he observed
+      that the square before it held other groups. But what impressed him more
+      was the ominous silence that was everywhere. At his elbow the judge was
+      breathing deep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are face to face with a very deplorable condition, Mr. Yancy. Court
+      was to sit here to-day, but judge Morrow and the public prosecutor have
+      left town, and as you see, Murrell's friends have gathered for a rescue.
+      There's a sprinkling of the better element&mdash;but only a sprinkling. I
+      saw judge Morrow this morning at four o'clock&mdash;I told him I would
+      obligate myself to present for his consideration evidence of a striking
+      and sensational character, evidence which would show conclusively that
+      Murrell should be held to await the action of the next grand jury&mdash;this
+      was after a conference with Hues&mdash;I guaranteed his safety. Sir, the
+      man refused to listen to me! He showed himself utterly devoid of any
+      feeling of public duty.&rdquo; The bitter sense of failure and futility was
+      leaving the judge. The situation made its demands on that basic faith in
+      his own powers which remained imbedded in his character.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had entered the court-house square. 'On the steps of the building
+      Betts was arguing loudly with Hues, who stood in the doorway, rifle in
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe you don't know this is county property?&rdquo; the sheriff was saying.
+      &ldquo;And that you have taken unlawful possession of it for an unlawful
+      purpose? I am going to open them doors-a passel of strangers can't keep
+      folks out of a building their own money has bought and paid for!&rdquo; While he
+      was speaking, the judge had pushed his way through the crowd to the foot
+      of the steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was very nicely said, Mr. Betts,&rdquo; observed the judge. He smiled
+      widely and sweetly. The sheriff gave him a hostile glare. &ldquo;Do you know
+      that Morrow has left town?&rdquo; the judge went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't got nothing to do with judge Morrow. It's my duty to see that
+      this building is ready for him when he's a mind to open court in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are willing to assume the responsibility of throwing open these
+      doors?&rdquo; inquired the judge affably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shorely am,&rdquo; said Betts. &ldquo;Why, some of these folks are our leading
+      people!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge turned to the crowd, and spoke in a tone of excessive civility.
+      &ldquo;Just a word, gentlemen!&mdash;the sheriff is right; it is your
+      court-house and you should not be kept out of it. No doubt there are some
+      of you whose presence in this building will sooner or later be urgently
+      desired. We are going to let all who wish to enter, but I beg you to
+      remember that there will be five men inside whose prejudices are all in
+      favor of law and order.&rdquo; He pushed past Hues and entered the court-house,
+      followed by Yancy and Hannibal. &ldquo;We'll let 'em in where I can talk to
+      'em,&rdquo; he said almost gaily. &ldquo;Besides, they'll come in anyhow when they get
+      ready, so there's no sense in exciting them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the court-house, Murrell, bound hand and foot, was seated between
+      Carrington and the Earl of Lambeth in the little railed-off space below
+      the judge's bench. Fear and suffering had blanched his unshaven cheeks and
+      given a wild light to his deeply sunken eyes. At sight of Yancy a
+      smothered exclamation broke from his lips, he had supposed this man dead
+      these many months!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hues had abandoned his post and the crowd, suddenly grown clamorous,
+      stormed the narrow entrance. One of the doors, borne from its hinges, went
+      down with a crash. The judge, a fierce light flashing from his eyes,
+      turned to Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No matter what happens, this fellow Murrell is not to escape&mdash;if he
+      calls on his friends to rescue him he is to be shot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The hall was filling with swearing, struggling men, the floor shook
+      beneath their heavy tread; then they burst into the court-room and saluted
+      Murrell with a great shout. But Murrell, bound, in rags, and silent, his
+      lips frozen in a wolfish grin, was a depressing sight, and the boldest
+      felt something of his unrestrained lawlessness go from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Less noisy now, the crowd spread itself out among the benches or swarmed
+      up into the tiny gallery at the back of the building. Man after man had
+      hurried forward, intent on passing beyond the railing, but each lead
+      encountered the judge, formidable and forbidding, and had turned aside.
+      Gradually the many pairs of eyes roving over the little group surrounding
+      the outlaw focussed themselves on Slocum Price. It was in unconscious
+      recognition of that moral force which was his, a tribute to the grim
+      dignity of his unshaken courage; what he would do seemed worth
+      considering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was charmed to hear his name pass in a whisper from lip to lip. Well,
+      it was time they knew him! He squared his ponderous shoulders and made a
+      gesture commanding silence. Battered, shabby and debauched, he was like
+      some old war horse who sniffs the odor of battle that the wind
+      incontinently brings to his nostrils.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't let him speak!&rdquo; cried a voice, and a tumult succeeded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cool and indomitable the judge waited for it to subside. He saw that the
+      color was stealing back into Murrell's face. The outlaw was feeling that
+      he was a leader not overthrown, these were his friends and followers, his
+      safety was their safety too. In a lull in the storm of sound the judge
+      attempted to make himself heard, but his words were lost in the angry roar
+      that descended on him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't let him speak! Kill him! Kill him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A score of men sprang to their feet and from all sides came the click of
+      rifle and pistol hammers as they were drawn to the full cock. The judge's
+      fate seemed to rest on a breath. He swung about on his heel and gave a
+      curt nod to Yancy and Cavendish, who, falling back a step, tossed their
+      guns to their shoulders and covered Murrell. A sudden hush grew up out of
+      the tumult; the cries, angry and jeering, dwindled to a murmur, and a dead
+      pall of silence rested on the crowded room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The very taste of triumph was in the judge's mouth. Then came a commotion
+      at the back of the building, a whispered ripple of comment, and Colonel
+      Fentress elbowed his way through the crowd. At sight of his enemy the
+      judge's face went from white to red, while his eyes blazed; but for the
+      moment the force of his emotions left him speechless. Here and there, as
+      he advanced, Fentress recognized a friend and bowed coolly to the right
+      and left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does this ridiculous mockery mean?&rdquo; he demanded harshly. &ldquo;Mr.
+      Sheriff, as a member of the bar, I protest! Why don't you clear the
+      building?&rdquo; He did not wait for Betts to answer him, but continued. &ldquo;Where
+      is this man Hues?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yonder, Colonel, by the captain,&rdquo; said Betts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a warrant for his arrest. You will take him into custody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait!&rdquo; cried the judge. &ldquo;I represent Mr. Hues. I desire to see that
+      warrant!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Fentress ignored him. He addressed the crowded benches.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen, it is a serious matter forcibly to seize a man without
+      authority from the courts and expose him to the danger of mob violence&mdash;Mr.
+      Hues will learn this before we have done with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Instantly there was a noisy demonstration that swelled into a burst of
+      applause, which quickly spent itself. The struggle seemed to have narrowed
+      to an individual, contest for supremacy between Fentress and the judge. On
+      the edge of the railed off space they confronted each other: the colonel,
+      a tall, well-cared-for presence; the judge shabby and unkempt. For a
+      moment their eyes met, while the judge's face purpled and paled, and
+      purpled again. The silence deepened. Fentress' thin lips opened, twitched,
+      but no sound came from them; then his glance wavered and fell. He turned
+      away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Sheriff!&rdquo; he called sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, Colonel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take your man into custody,&rdquo; ordered Fentress. As he spoke he handed the
+      warrant to Betts, who looked at it, grinned, and stepped toward Hues. He
+      would have pushed the judge aside had not that gentleman, bowing civilly,
+      made way for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In my profound respect for the law and properly constituted authority I
+      yield to no man, not even to Colonel Fentress,&rdquo; he said, with a gracious
+      gesture. &ldquo;I would not place the slightest obstacle in the way of its
+      sanctioned manifestation. Colonel Fentress comes here with that high
+      sanction.&rdquo; He bowed again ceremoniously to the colonel. &ldquo;I repeat, I
+      respect his dependence upon the law!&rdquo; He whirled suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cavendish&mdash;Yancy&mdash;Carrington&mdash;I call upon you to arrest
+      John Murrell! I do this by virtue of the authority vested in me as a judge
+      of the United States Federal Court. His crime&mdash;a mere trifle, my
+      friends&mdash;passing counterfeit money! Colonel Fentress will inform you
+      that this is a violation of the law which falls within my jurisdiction,&rdquo;
+       and he beamed blandly on Fentress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a lie!&rdquo; cried the colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll answer for that later!&rdquo; said the judge, with abrupt austerity of
+      tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For all we know you may be some fugitive from justice! Why, your name
+      isn't Price!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure of that?&rdquo; asked the judge quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're an impostor! Your name is Turberville!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Permit me to relieve your apprehensions. It is Turberville who has
+      received the appointment. Would you like to examine my credentials?&mdash;I
+      have them by me&mdash;no? I am obliged for your introduction. It could not
+      have come at a more timely moment!&rdquo; The judge seemed to dismiss Fentress
+      contemptuously. Once more he faced the packed benches. &ldquo;Put down your
+      weapons!&rdquo; he commanded. &ldquo;This man Murrell will not be released. At the
+      first effort at rescue he will be shot where he sits&mdash;we have sworn
+      it&mdash;his plotting is at an end.&rdquo; He stalked nearer the benches. &ldquo;Not
+      one chance in a thousand remains to him. Either he dies here or he lives
+      to betaken before every judge in the state, if necessary, until we find
+      one with courage to try him! Make no mistake&mdash;it will best conserve
+      the ends of justice to allow the state court's jurisdiction in this case;
+      and I pledge myself to furnish evidence which will start him well on his
+      road to the gallows!&rdquo; The judge, a tremendous presence, stalked still
+      nearer the benches. Outfacing the crowd, a sense of the splendor of the
+      part he was being called upon to play flowed through him like some elixir;
+      he felt that he was transcending himself, that his inspiration was drawn
+      from the hidden springs of the spirit, and that he could neither falter
+      nor go astray. &ldquo;You don't know what you are meddling with! This man has
+      plotted to lay the South in ruins&mdash;he has been arming the negroes&mdash;it&mdash;it
+      is incredible that you should all know this&mdash;to such I say, go home
+      and thank God for your escape! For the others&rdquo;&mdash;his shaggy brows met
+      in a menacing frown&mdash;&ldquo;if they force our hand we will toss them John
+      Murrell's dead carcass&mdash;that's our answer to their challenge!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He strode out among the gun muzzles which wavered where they still covered
+      him. He was thinking of Mahaffy&mdash;Mahaffy, who had said he was still a
+      man to be reckoned with. For the comfort of his own soul he was proving
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know what a servile insurrection means?&mdash;you men who have
+      wives and daughters, have you thought of their fate? Of the monstrous
+      savagery to which they would be exposed? Do you believe he could limit and
+      control it? Look at him! Why, he has never had a consideration outside of
+      his own safety, and yet he expects you to risk your necks to save his! He
+      would have left the state before the first blow was struck&mdash;his
+      business was all down river&mdash;but we are going to keep him here to
+      answer for his crimes! The law, as implacable as it is impartial, has put
+      its mark on him&mdash;the shadow in which he sits is the shadow of the
+      gallows!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge paused, but the only sound in that expectant silence was the
+      heavy breathing of men. He drew his unwieldy form erect, while his voice
+      rumbled on, aggressive and threatening in its every intonation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are here to defend something that no longer exists. Your organization
+      is wrecked, your signals and passwords are known, your secrets have become
+      public property&mdash;I can even produce a list of your members; there are
+      none of you who do not stand in imminent peril&mdash;yet understand, I
+      have no wish to strike at those who have been misled or coerced into
+      joining Murrell's band!&rdquo; The judge's sodden old face glowed now with the
+      magnanimity of his sentiments. &ldquo;But I have no feeling of mercy for your
+      leaders, none for Murrell himself. Put down your guns!&mdash;you can only
+      kill us after we have killed Murrell&mdash;but you can't kill the law! If
+      the arch conspirator dies in this room and hour, on whose head will the
+      punishment fall?&rdquo; He swung round his ponderous arm in a sweeping gesture
+      and shook a fat but expressive forefinger in the faces of those nearest
+      him. &ldquo;On yours&mdash;and yours&mdash;and yours!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Across the space that separated them the judge grinned his triumph at his
+      enemy. He had known when Fentress entered the room that a word or a sign
+      from him would precipitate a riot, but he knew now that neither this word
+      nor this sign would be given. Then quite suddenly he strode down the
+      aisle, and foot by foot Fentress yielded ground before his advance. A
+      murderous light flashed from the judge's bloodshot eyes and his right hand
+      was stealing toward the frayed tails of his coat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look out&mdash;he's getting ready to shoot!&rdquo; cried a frightened voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Instantly by doors and windows the crowd, seized with inexplicable panic,
+      emptied itself into the courthouse yard. Fentress was caught up in the
+      rush and borne from the room and from the building. When he reached the
+      graveled space below the steps he turned. The judge was in the doorway,
+      the center of a struggling group; Mr. Bowen, the minister, Mr. Saul and
+      Mr. Wesley were vainly seeking to pinion his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Draw&mdash;damn you!&rdquo; he roared at Fentress, as he wrenched himself free,
+      and the crowd swayed to right and left as Fentress was seen to reach for
+      his pistol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Saul made a last frantic effort to restrain his friend; he seized the
+      judge's arm just as the latter's finger pressed the trigger, and an
+      instant later Fentress staggered back with the judge's bullet in his
+      shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVI. THE END AND THE BEGINNING
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was not strange that a number of gentlemen in and about Raleigh yielded
+      to an overmastering impulse to visit newer lands, nor was it strange that
+      the initial steps looking toward the indulgence of their desires should
+      have been taken in secrecy. Mr. Pegloe was one of the first to leave; Mr.
+      Saul had informed him of the judge's declared purpose of shooting him on
+      sight. Even without this useful hint the tavern-keeper had known that he
+      should experience intense embarrassment in meeting the judge; this was now
+      a dreary certainty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You reckon he means near all he says?&rdquo; he had asked, his fat sides
+      shaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd take his word a heap quicker than I would most folks,&rdquo; answered Mr.
+      Saul with conviction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pegloe promptly had a sinking spell. He recalled the snuffing of the
+      candles by the judge, an extremely depressing memory under the
+      circumstances, also the reckless and headlong disregard of consequences
+      which had characterized so many of that gentleman's acts, and his plans
+      shaped themselves accordingly, with this result: that when the judge took
+      occasion to call at the tavern, and the hostile nature of his visit was
+      emphasized by the cautious manner of his approach, he was greatly shocked
+      to discover that his intended victim had sold his business overnight for a
+      small lump sum to Mr. Saul's brother-in-law, who had appeared most
+      opportunely with an offer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pegloe's flight created something of a sensation, but it was dwarfed by
+      the sensation that developed a day or so later when it became known that
+      Tom Ware and Colonel Fentress had likewise fled the country. Still later,
+      Fentress' body, showing marks of violence, was washed ashore at a
+      wood-yard below Girard. It was conjectured that he and Ware had set out
+      from The Oaks to cross the river; there was reason to believe that
+      Fentress had in his possession at the time a considerable sum of money,
+      and it was supposed that his companion had murdered and robbed him. Of
+      Ware's subsequent career nothing was ever known.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These were, after all, only episodes in the collapse of the Clan, sporific
+      manifestations of the great work of disintegration that was going forward
+      and which the judge, more than any other, perhaps, had brought about. This
+      was something no one questioned, and he quickly passed to the first phase
+      of that unique and peculiar esteem in which he was ever after held. His
+      fame widened with the succeeding suns; he had offers of help which
+      impressed him as so entirely creditable to human nature that he quite
+      lacked the heart to refuse them, especially as he felt that in the
+      improvement of his own condition the world had bettered itself and was
+      moving nearer those sound and righteous ideals of morality and patriotism
+      which had never lacked his indorsement, no matter how inexpedient it had
+      seemed for him to put them into practice. But he was not diverted from his
+      ultimate purpose by the glamour of a present popularity; he was able to
+      keep his bleared eyes resolutely fixed on the main chance, namely the
+      Fentress estate and the Quintard lands. It was highly important that he
+      should go east to South Carolina to secure documentary evidence that would
+      establish his own and Fentress' identity, to Kentucky, where Fentress had
+      lived prior to his coming to Tennessee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Early in November the judge set out by stage on his journey east; he was
+      accompanied by Yancy and Hannibal, from neither of whom could he bring
+      himself to be separated; and as the woods, flaming now with the touch of
+      frost, engulfed the little town, he turned in his seat and looked back. He
+      had entered it by that very road, a beggar on foot and in rags; he was
+      leaving it in broadcloth and fine linen, visible tokens of his altered
+      fortunes. More than this, he could thrust his hands deep down into his
+      once empty pockets and hear the clink of gold and silver. The judge slowly
+      withdrew his eyes from the last gray roof that showed among the trees, and
+      faced the east and the future with a serenely confident expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty Malroy and Carrington had ridden into Raleigh to take leave of their
+      friends. They had watched the stage from sight, had answered the last
+      majestic salute the judge had given them across the swaying top of the
+      coach before the first turn of the road hid it from sight, and then they
+      had turned their horses' heads in the direction of Belle Plain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bruce, do you think judge Price will ever be able to accomplish all he
+      hopes to?&rdquo; Betty asked when they had left the town behind. She drew in her
+      horse as she spoke, and they went forward at a walk under the splendid
+      arch of the forest and over a carpet of vivid leaves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon he will, Betty,&rdquo; responded Carrington. Unfavorable as had been
+      his original estimate of the judge's character, events had greatly
+      modified it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He really seems quite sure, doesn't he?&rdquo; said Betty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's not a doubt in his mind,&rdquo; agreed Carrington.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was still at Belle Plain, living in what had been Ware's office, while
+      the Cavendishes were domiciled at the big house. He had arranged with the
+      judge to crop a part of that hopeful gentleman's land the very next
+      season; the fact that a lawsuit intervened between the judge and
+      possession seemed a trifling matter, for Carrington had become infected
+      with the judge's point of view, which did not admit of the possibility of
+      failure; but he had not yet told Betty of his plans. Time enough for that
+      when he left Belle Plain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His silence concerning the future had caused Betty much thought. She
+      wondered if he still intended going south into the Purchase; she was not
+      sure but it was the dignified thing for him to do. She was thinking of
+      this now as they went forward over the rustling leaves, and at length she
+      turned in the saddle and faced him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to miss Hannibal dreadfully&mdash;yes, and the judge, and Mr.
+      Yancy!&rdquo; she began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when I leave&mdash;how about me, Betty?&rdquo; Carrington asked
+      unexpectedly, but he only had in mind leaving Belle Plain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little sigh escaped Betty's red lips, for she was thinking of the
+      Purchase, which lay far down the river, many, many miles distant. The sigh
+      was ever so little, but Carrington had heard it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am to be missed, too, am I, Betty?&rdquo; he inquired, leaning toward her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, Bruce?&mdash;Oh, I shall miss you, too&mdash;dreadfully&mdash;but
+      then, perhaps in five years, when you come back&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five years!&rdquo; cried Carrington, but he understood, something of what was
+      passing in her mind, and laughed shortly. &ldquo;Five years, Betty?&rdquo; he
+      repeated, dwelling on the numeral.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty hesitated and looked thoughtful. Presently she stole a surreptitious
+      glance at Carrington from under her long lashes, and went on slowly, as
+      though she were making careful choice of her words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you come back in three years, Bruce&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington still regarded her fixedly. There was a light in his black eyes
+      that seemed to penetrate to the most secret recesses of her heart and
+      soul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Three years, Betty?&rdquo; he repeated again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Betty, her eyes cast down, twisted her rein nervously between her slim,
+      white fingers, but Carrington's steady glance never left her sweet face,
+      framed by its halo of bright hair. She stole another look at him from
+      beneath her dark lashes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Three years, Betty?&rdquo; he prompted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bruce, don't stare at me that way, it makes me forget what I was going to
+      say! When you come, back&mdash;next year&mdash;&rdquo; and then she lifted her
+      eyes to his and he saw that they were full of sudden tears. &ldquo;Bruce, don't
+      go away&mdash;don't go away at all&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carrington slipped from the saddle and stood at her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean that, Betty?&rdquo; he asked. He took her hands loosely in his and
+      relentlessly considered her crimsoned face. &ldquo;I reckon it will always be
+      right hard to refuse you anything&mdash;here is one settler the Purchase
+      will never get!&rdquo; and he laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was the Purchase&mdash;you were going there!&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I wasn't, Betty; that notion died its natural death long ago. When we
+      are sure you will be safe at Belle Plain with just the Cavendishes, I am
+      going into Raleigh to wait as best I can until spring.&rdquo; He spoke so
+      gravely, that she asked in quick alarm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then, Bruce&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then&mdash;Oh, Betty, I'm starving&mdash;&rdquo; All in a moment he lifted
+      her slender figure in his arms, gathering her close to him. &ldquo;And then,
+      this&mdash;and this&mdash;and this, sweetheart&mdash;and more&mdash;and&mdash;oh,
+      Betty! Betty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Murrell was brought to trial his lawyers were able to produce a host
+      of witnesses whose sworn testimony showed that so simple a thing as
+      perjury had no terrors for them. His fight for liberty was waged in and
+      out of court with incredible bitterness, and, as judge and jury were only
+      human, the outlaw escaped with the relatively light sentence of twelve
+      years' imprisonment; he died, however, before the expiration of his term.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The judge, where he returned to Raleigh, resumed his own name of
+      Turberville, and he allowed it to be known that he would not be offended
+      by the prefix of General. During his absence he had accumulated a wealth
+      of evidence of undoubted authenticity, with the result that his claim
+      against the Fentress estate was sustained by the courts, and when The Oaks
+      with its stock and slaves was offered for sale, he, as the principal
+      creditor, was able to buy it in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of his first acts after taking possession of the property was to have
+      Mahaffy reinterred in the grove of oaks below his bedroom windows, and he
+      marked the spot with a great square of granite. The judge, visibly shaken
+      by his emotions, saw the massive boulder go into place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harsh and rugged like the nature of him who lies beneath it&mdash;but
+      enduring, too, as he was,&rdquo; he murmured. He turned to Yancy and Hannibal,
+      and added,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will lay me beside him when I die.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then when the bitter struggle came and he was wrenched and tortured by
+      longings, his strength was in remembering his promise to the dead man, and
+      it was his custom to go out under the oaks and pace to and fro beside
+      Mahaffy's grave until he had gained the mastery of himself. Only Yancy and
+      Hannibal knew how fierce the conflict was he waged, yet in the end he won
+      that best earned of all victories, the victory over himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My salvation has been a costly thing; it was bought with the blood of my
+      friend,&rdquo; he told Yancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Hannibal's privilege to give Cavendish out of the vast Quintard
+      tract such a farm as the earl had never dreamed of owning even in his most
+      fervid moments of imagining; and he abandoned all idea of going to England
+      to claim his title. At the judge's suggestion he named the place Earl's
+      Court. He and Polly were entirely satisfied with their surroundings, and
+      never ceased to congratulate themselves that they had left Lincoln County.
+      They felt that their friends the Carringtons at Belle Plain, though
+      untitled people, were still of an equal rank with themselves; while as for
+      the judge, they doubted if royalty itself laid it any over him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Yancy accepted his changed fortunes with philosophic composure.
+      Technically he filled the position of overseer at The Oaks, but the
+      judge's activity was so great that this position was largely a sinecure.
+      The most arduous work he performed was spending his wages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Certain trifling peculiarities survived with the judge even after he had
+      entered what he had once been prone to call the Portal of Hope; for while
+      his charity was very great and he lived with the splendid air of plenty
+      that belonged to an older order, it required tact, patience, and
+      persistence to transact business with him; and his creditors, of whom
+      there were always a respectable number, discovered that he esteemed them
+      as they were aggressive and determined. He explained to Yancy that too
+      great certainty detracted from the charm of living, for, after all, life
+      was a game&mdash;a gamble&mdash;he desired to be reminded of this. Yet he
+      was held in great respect for his wisdom and learning, which was no more
+      questioned that his courage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus surrounded by his friends, who were devoted to him, he began
+      Hannibal's education and the preparation of his memoirs, intended
+      primarily for the instruction of his grandson, and which he modestly
+      decided to call The History of My Own Times, which clearly showed the
+      magnificence of his mind and its outlook.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
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+</pre>
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+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prodigal Judge, by Vaughan Kester
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Prodigal Judge
+
+Author: Vaughan Kester
+
+Release Date: February, 2004  [EBook #5129]
+Posting Date: May 2, 2009
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRODIGAL JUDGE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Polly Stratton
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE PRODIGAL JUDGE BY VAUGHAN KESTER
+
+
+By Vaughan Kester
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE BOY AT THE BARONY
+
+
+The Quintards had not prospered on the barren lands of the pine woods
+whither they had emigrated to escape the malaria of the low coast, but
+this no longer mattered, for the last of his name and race, old General
+Quintard, was dead in the great house his father had built almost a
+century before and the thin acres of the Barony, where he had made his
+last stand against age and poverty, were to claim him, now that he had
+given up the struggle in their midst. The two or three old slaves about
+the place, stricken with a sense of the futility of the fight their
+master had made, mourned for him and for themselves, but of his own
+blood and class none was present.
+
+Shy dwellers from the pine woods, lanky jeans-clad men and sunbonneted
+women, who were gathering for the burial of the famous man of their
+neighborhood, grouped themselves about the lawn which had long since
+sunk to the uses of a pasture lot. Singly or by twos and threes they
+stole up the steps and across the wide porch to the open door. On the
+right of the long hall another door stood open, and who wished could
+enter the drawing-room, with its splendid green and gold paper, and the
+wonderful fireplace with the Dutch tiles that graphically depicted the
+story of Jonah and the whale.
+
+Here the general lay in state. The slaves had dressed their old master
+in the uniform he had worn as a colonel of the continental line, but the
+thin shoulders of the wasted figure no longer filled the buff and blue
+coat. The high-bred face, once proud and masterful no doubt, as became
+the face of a Quintard, spoke of more than age and poverty--it was
+infinitely sorrowful. Yet there was something harsh and unforgiving
+in the lines death had fixed there, which might have been taken as the
+visible impress of that mystery, the bitterness of which had misshaped
+the dead man's nature; but the resolute lips had closed for ever on
+their secret, and the broken spirit had gone perhaps to learn how poor a
+thing its pride had been.
+
+Though he had lived continuously at the Barony for almost a quarter of a
+century, there was none among his neighbors who could say he had looked
+on that thin, aquiline face in all that time. Yet they had known much
+of him, for the gossip of the slaves, who had been his only friends in
+those years he had chosen to deny himself to other friends, had gone far
+and wide over the county.
+
+That notable man of business, Jonathan Crenshaw--and this superiority
+was especially evident when the business chanced to be his own--was
+closeted in the library with a stranger to whom rumor fixed the name of
+Bladen, supposing him to be the legal representative of certain remote
+connections of the old general's.
+
+Crenshaw sat before the flat-topped mahogany desk in the center of the
+room with several well-thumbed account-books open before him. Bladen, in
+riding dress, stood by the window.
+
+"I suppose you will buy in the property when it comes up for sale?" the
+latter was saying.
+
+Mr. Crenshaw had already made it plain that General Quintard's creditors
+would have lean pickings at the Barony, intimating that he himself was
+the chiefest of these and the one to suffer most grievously in pocket.
+Further than this, Mr. Bladen saw that the old house was a ruin,
+scarcely habitable, and that the thin acres, though they were many and
+a royal grant, were of the slightest value. Crenshaw nodded his
+acquiescence to the lawyer's conjecture touching the ultimate fate of
+the Barony.
+
+"I reckon, sir, I'll want to protect myself, but if there are any of
+his own kin who have a fancy to the place I'll put no obstacle in their
+way."
+
+"Who are the other creditors?" asked Bladen.
+
+"There ain't none, sir; they just got tired waiting on him, and when
+they began to sue and get judgment the old general would send me word
+to settle with them, and their claims passed into my hands. I was in too
+deep to draw out. But for the last ten years his dealings were all with
+me; I furnished the supplies for the place here. It didn't amount to
+much, as there was only him and the darkies, and the account ran on from
+year to year."
+
+"He lived entirely alone, saw no one, I understand," said Bladen.
+
+"Alone with his two or three old slaves--yes, sir. He wouldn't even see
+me; Joe, his old nigger, would fetch orders for this or that. Once or
+twice I rode out to see him, but I wa'n't even allowed inside that door;
+the message I got was that he couldn't be disturbed, and the last time
+I come he sent me word that if I annoyed him again he would be forced
+to terminate our business relations. That was pretty strong talk, wa'n't
+it, when you consider that I could have sold the roof from over his
+head and the land from under his feet? Oh, well, I just put it down to
+childishness." There was a brief pause, then Crenshaw spoke again.
+"I reckon, sir, if you know anything about the old general's private
+affairs you don't feel no call to speak on that point?" he observed,
+and with evident regret. He had hoped that Bladen would clear up the
+mystery, for certainly it must have been some sinister tragedy that had
+cost the general his grip on life and for twenty years and more had made
+of him a recluse, so that the faces of his friends had become as the
+faces of strangers.
+
+"My dear sir, I know nothing of General Quintard's private, history. I
+am even unacquainted with my clients, who are distant cousins, but his
+nearest kin--they live in South Carolina. I was merely instructed
+to represent them in the event of his death and to look after their
+interests."
+
+"That's business," said Crenshaw, nodding.
+
+"All I know is this: General Quintard was a conspicuous man in these
+parts fifty years ago; that was before my time, Mr. Crenshaw, and I take
+it, too, it was before yours; he married a Beaufort."
+
+"So he did," said Crenshaw, "and there was one child, a daughter; she
+married a South Carolinian by the name of Turberville. I remember that,
+fo' they were married under the gallery in the hall. Great folks,
+those Turbervilles, rolling rich. My father was manager then fo' the
+general--that was nearly forty years ago. There was life here then, sir;
+the place was alive with niggers and the house full of guests from one
+month's end to another." He drummed on the desktop. "Who'd a thought it
+wa'n't to last for ever!"
+
+"And what became of the daughter who married Turberville?"
+
+"Died years ago," said Crenshaw. "She was here the last time about
+thirty years back. It wa'n't so easy to get about in those days, no
+roads to speak of and no stages, and besides, the old general wa'n't
+much here nohow; her going away had sort of broken up his home, I
+reckon. Then the place stood empty fo' a few years, most of the slaves
+were sold off, and the fields began to grow up. No one rightly knew, but
+the general was supposed to be traveling up yonder in the No'th, sir.
+As I say, things ran along this way quite a while, and then one morning
+when I went to my store my clerk says, 'There's an old white-headed
+nigger been waiting round here fo' a word with you, Mr. Crenshaw.' It
+was Joe, the general's body servant, and when I'd shook hands with him I
+said, 'When's the master expected back?' You see, I thought Joe had been
+sent on ahead to open the house, but he says, 'General Quintard's at the
+Barony now,' and then he says, 'The general's compliments, sir, and will
+you see that this order is filled?' Well, Mr. Bladen, I and my father
+had factored the Barony fo' fifteen years and upward, but that was the
+first time the supplies fo' the general's table had ever been toted here
+in a meal sack!
+
+"I rode out that very afternoon, but Joe, who was one of your mannerly
+niggers, met me at the door and says, 'Mr. Crenshaw, the general
+appreciates this courtesy, but regrets that he is unable to see you,
+sir.' After that it wa'n't long in getting about that the general was a
+changed man. Other folks came here to welcome him back and he refused to
+see them, but the reason of it we never learned. Joe, who probably knew,
+was one of your close niggers; there was, no getting anything out of
+him; you could talk with that darky by the hour, sir, and he left you
+feeling emptier than if he'd kept his mouth shut."
+
+They were interrupted by a knock at the door.
+
+"Come in," said Crenshaw, a trifle impatiently, and in response to his
+bidding the door opened and a small boy entered the room dragging after
+him a long rifle. Suddenly overcome by a speechless shyness, he paused
+on the threshold to stare with round, wondering eyes at the two men.
+"Well, sonny, what do you want?" asked Mr. Crenshaw indulgently.
+
+The boy opened his mouth, but his courage failed him, and with his
+courage went the words he would have spoken.
+
+"Who is this?" asked Bladen.
+
+"I'll tell, you presently," said Crenshaw. "Come, speak up, sonny, what
+do you want?"
+
+"Please, sir, I want this here old spo'tin' rifle," said: the child.
+"Please, sir, I want to keep it," he added.
+
+"Well, you run along on out of here with your old spo'tin' rifle!" said
+Crenshaw good-naturedly.
+
+"Please, sir, am I to keep it?"
+
+"Yes, I reckon you may keep it--least I've no objection." Crenshaw
+glanced at Bladen.
+
+"Oh, by all means," said the latter. Spasms of delight shook the small
+figure, and with a murmur that was meant for thanks he backed from the
+room, closing the door. Bladen glanced inquiringly at Crenshaw.
+
+"You want to know about him, sir? Well, that's Hannibal Wayne Hazard."
+
+"Hannibal Wayne Hazard?" repeated Bladen.
+
+"Yes, sir; the general was the authority on that point, but who Hannibal
+Wayne Hazard is and how he happens to be at the Barony is another
+mystery--just wait a minute, sir--" and quitting his chair Mr.
+Crenshaw hurried from the room to return almost immediately with a tall
+countryman. "Mr. Bladen, this is Bob Yancy. Bob, the gentleman, wants to
+hear about the woman and the child; that's your story."
+
+"Howdy, sir," said Mr. Yancy. He appeared to meditate on the mental
+effort that was required of him, then he took a long breath. "It was
+this a-ways--" he began with a soft drawl, and then paused. "You give me
+the dates, Mr. John, fo' I disremember."
+
+"It was four year ago come next Christmas," said Crenshaw.
+
+"Old Christmas," corrected Mr. Yancy. "Our folks always kept the old
+Christmas like it was befo' they done mussed up the calendar. I'm agin
+all changes," added Mr. Yancy.
+
+"He means the fo'teenth of December," explained Mr. Crenshaw.
+
+"Not wishin' to dispute your word, Mr. John, I mean Christmas," objected
+Yancy.
+
+"Oh, very well, he means Christmas then!" said Crenshaw.
+
+"The evening befo', it was, and I'd gone to Fayetteville to get my
+Christmas fixin's; there was right much rain and some snow falling." Mr.
+Yancy's guiding light was clearly accuracy. "Just at sundown I hooked up
+that blind mule of mine to the cart and started fo' home. As I got shut
+of the town the stage come in and I seen one passenger, a woman. Now
+that mule is slow, Mr. John; I'm free to say there are faster mules,
+but a set of harness never went acrost the back of a slower critter
+than that one of mine." Yancy, who thus far had addressed himself to
+Mr. Crenshaw, now turned to Bladen. "That mule, sir, sees good with his
+right eye, but it's got a gait like it was looking fo' the left-hand
+side of the road and wondering what in thunderation had got into it
+that it was acrost the way; mules are gifted with some sense, but mighty
+little judgment."
+
+"Never mind the mule, Bob," said Crenshaw.
+
+"If I can't make the gentleman believe in the everlasting slowness of
+that mule of mine, my story ain't worth a hill of beans," said Yancy.
+
+"The extraordinary slowness of the mule is accepted without question,
+Mr. Yancy," said Bladen.
+
+"I'm obliged to you," rejoined Yancy, and for a brief moment he appeared
+to commune with himself, then he continued. "A mile out of town I heard
+some one sloshing through the rain after me; it was dark by that time
+and I couldn't see who it was, so I pulled up and waited, and then I
+made out it was a woman. She spoke when she was alongside the cart and
+says, 'Can you drive me on to the Barony?' and it came to me it was the
+same woman I'd seen leave the stage. When I got down to help her into
+the cart I saw she was toting a child in her arms."
+
+"What did the woman look like, Bob?" said Crenshaw.
+
+"She wa'n't exactly old and she wa'n't young by no manner of means;
+I remember saying to myself, that child ain't yo's, whose ever it is.
+Well, sir, I was willing enough to talk, but she wa'n't, she hardly
+spoke until we came to the red gate, when she says, 'Stop, if you
+please, I'll walk the rest of the way.' Mind you, she'd known without a
+word from me we were at the Barony. She give me a dollar, and the last
+I seen of her she was hurrying through the rain toting the child in her
+arms."
+
+Mr. Crenshaw took up the narrative.
+
+"The niggers say the old general almost had a fit when he saw her.
+Aunt Alsidia let her into the house; I reckon if Joe had been alive she
+wouldn't have got inside that door, spite of the night!"
+
+"Well?" said Bladen.
+
+"When morning come she was gone, but the child done stayed behind; we
+always reckoned the lady walked back to Fayetteville sometime befo' day
+and took the stage. I've heard Aunt Alsidia tell as how the old general
+said that morning, pale and shaking like, 'You'll find a boy asleep
+in the red room; he's to be fed and cared fo', but keep him out of my
+sight. His name is Hannibal Wayne Hazard.' That is all the general ever
+said on the matter. He never would see the boy, never asked after him
+even, and the boy lived in the back of the house, with the niggers to
+look after him. Now, sir, you know as much as we know, which is just
+next door to nothing."
+
+The old general was borne across what had once been the west lawn to his
+resting-place in the neglected acre where the dead and gone of his race
+lay, and the record of the family was complete, as far as any man knew.
+Crenshaw watched the grave take shape with a melancholy for which he
+found no words, yet if words could have come from the mist of ideas in
+which his mind groped vaguely he would have said that for themselves the
+deeds of the Quintards had been given the touch of finality, and that
+whether for good or for evil, the consequences, like the ripple which
+rises from the surface of placid waters when a stone is dropped, still
+survived somewhere in the world.
+
+The curious and the idle drifted back to the great house; then the
+memory of their own affairs, not urgent, generally speaking, but still
+of some casual interest, took them down the disused carriage-way to the
+red gate and so off into the heat of the summer day. Crenshaw's wagon,
+driven by Crenshaw's man, vanished in a cloud of gray dust with the
+two old slaves, Aunt Alsidia and Uncle Ben, who were being taken to the
+Crenshaw place to be cared for pending the settlement of the Quintard
+estate. Bladen parted from Crenshaw with expressions of pleasure at
+having had the opportunity of making his acquaintance, and further
+delivered himself of the civil wish that they might soon meet again.
+Then Crenshaw, assisted by Bob Yancy, proceeded to secure the great
+house against intrusion.
+
+"I make it a p'int to always stay and see the plumb finish of a thing,"
+explained Yancy. "Otherwise you're frequently put out by hearing of what
+happened after you left; I can stand anything but disapp'intment of that
+kind."
+
+They passed from room to room securing doors and windows, and at last
+stepped out upon the back porch.
+
+"Hullo!" said Yancy, pointing.
+
+There on a bench by the kitchen door was a small figure. It was Hannibal
+Wayne Hazard asleep, with his old spo'tin' rifle across his knees. His
+very existence had been forgotten.
+
+"Well, I declare to goodness!" said Crenshaw.
+
+"What are you going to do with him, Mr. John?"
+
+This question nettled Crenshaw.
+
+"I don't know as that is any particular affair of mine," he said. Now,
+Mr. Crenshaw, though an excellent man of business, with an unblinking
+eye on number one, was kindly, on the whole, but there was a Mrs.
+Crenshaw, to whom he rendered a strict account of all his deeds, and
+that sacred institution, the home, was only a tolerable haven when
+these deeds were nicely calculated to fit with the lady's exactions.
+Especially was he aware that Mrs. Crenshaw was averse to children as
+being inimical to cleanliness and order, oppressive virtues that drove
+Crenshaw himself in his hours of leisure to the woodshed, where he might
+spit freely.
+
+"I reckon you'd rather drop a word with yo' missus before you toted him
+home?" suggested Yancy, who knew something of the nature of his friend's
+domestic thraldom.
+
+"A woman ought to be boss in her own house," said Crenshaw.
+
+"Feelin' the truth of that, I've never married, Mr. John; I do as I
+please and don't have to listen to a passel of opinion. But I was going
+to say, what's to hinder me from toting that boy to my home? There are
+no calico petticoats hanging up in my closets."
+
+"And no closets to hang 'em in, I'll be bound!" rejoined Crenshaw. "But
+if you'll take the boy, Bob, you shan't lose by it."
+
+Yancy rested a big knotted hand on the boy's shoulder.
+
+"Come, wake up, sonny! Yo' Uncle Bob is ready fo' to strike out home,"
+he said. The child roused with a start and stared into the strange
+bearded face that was bent toward him. "It's yo' Uncle Bob," continued
+Yancy in a wheedling tone. "Are you the little nevvy what will help him
+to hook up that old blind mule of hisn? Here, give us the spo'tin' rifle
+to tote!"
+
+"Please, sir, where is Aunt Alsidia?" asked the child.
+
+Yancy balanced the rifle on his great palm and his eyes assumed a
+speculative cast.
+
+"I wonder what's to hinder us from loading this old gun, and firing this
+old gun, and hearing this old gun go-bang! Eh?"
+
+The child's blue eyes grew wide.
+
+"Like the guns off in the woods?" he asked, in a breathless whisper.
+
+"Like the guns a body hears off in the woods, only louder--heaps
+louder," said Yancy. "You fetch out his plunder, Mr. John," he added in
+a lower tone.
+
+"Do it now, please," the child cried, slipping off the bench.
+
+"I was expectin' fo' to hear you name me Uncle Bob, sonny; my little
+nevvies get almost anything they want out of me when they call me
+that-a-ways."
+
+"Please, Uncle Bob, make it go bang!"
+
+"You come along, then," and Mr. Yancy moved off in the direction of his
+mule, the child following. "Powder's what we want fo' to make this old
+spo'tin' rifle talk up, and I reckon we'll find some in a horn flask
+in the bottom of my cart." His expectations in this particular were
+realized, and he loaded the rifle with a small blank charge. "Now," he
+said, shaking the powder into the pan by a succession of smart taps on
+the breech, "sometimes these old pieces go off and sometimes they don't;
+it depends on the flint, but you stand back of your Uncle Bob, sonny,
+and keep yo' fingers out of yo' ears, and when you say--bang!--off she
+goes."
+
+There was a moment of delightful expectancy, and then--
+
+"Bang!" cried the child, and on the instant the rifle cracked. "Do it
+again! Please, Uncle Bob!" he cried, wild with delight.
+
+"Now if you was to help yo' Uncle Bob hook up that old mule of hisn and
+ride home with him, fo' he's going pretty shortly, you and Uncle Bob
+could do right much shootin' with this old rifle." Mr. Crenshaw had
+appeared with a bundle, which he tossed into the cart. Yancy turned to
+him. "If you meet any inquiring friends, Mr. John, I reckon you may say
+that my nevvy's gone fo' to pay me a visit. Most of his time will be
+agreeably spent shootin' with this rifle at a mark, and me holdin' him
+so he won't get kicked clean off his feet."
+
+Thereafter beguiling speech flowed steadily from Mr. Yancy's bearded
+lips, in the midst of which relations were established between the mule
+and cart, and the boy quitted the Barony for a new world.
+
+"Do you reckon if Uncle Bob was to let you, you could drive, sonny?"
+
+"Can she gallop?" asked the boy.
+
+Mr. Yancy gave him a hurt glance.
+
+"She's too much of a lady to do that," he said. "No, I 'low this ain't
+'so fast as running or walking, but it's a heap quicker than standing
+stock-still." The afternoon sun waned as they went deeper and deeper
+into the pine woods, but at last they came to their journey's end, a
+widely scattered settlement on a hill above a branch.
+
+"This," said Mr. Yancy, "are Scratch Hill, sonny. Why Scratch Hill? Some
+say it's the fleas; others agin hold it's the eternal bother of making a
+living here, but whether fleas or living you scratch fo' both."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. YANCY TELLS A MORAL TALE
+
+
+In the deep peace that rested like a benediction on the pine-clad slopes
+of Scratch Hill the boy Hannibal followed at Yancy's heels as that
+gentleman pursued the not arduous rounds of temperate industry which
+made up his daily life, for if Yancy were not completely idle he was
+responsible for a counterfeit presentment of idleness having most of the
+merits of the real article. He toiled casually in a small cornfield and
+a yet smaller truck patch, but his work always began late, when it began
+at all, and he was easily dissuaded from continuing it; indeed, his
+attitude toward it seemed to challenge interference.
+
+In the winter, when the weather conditions were perfectly adjusted to
+meet certain occult exactions he had come to require, Yancy could be
+induced to go into the woods and there labor with his ax. But as he
+pointed out to Hannibal, a poor man's capital was his health, and he
+being a poor man it behooved him to have a jealous care of himself. He
+made use of the dull days of mingled mist and drizzle for hunting, work
+being clearly out of the question; one could get about over the brown
+floor of the forest in silence then, and there was no sun to glint the
+brass mountings of his rifle. The fine days he professed to regard with
+keen suspicion as weather breeders, when it was imprudent to go far from
+home, especially in the direction of the Crenshaw timber lands, which
+for years had been the scene of all his gainful industry, and where he
+seemed to think nature ready to assume her most sinister aspect.
+Again in the early spring, when the young oak leaves were the size of
+squirrel's ears and the whippoorwills began calling as the long shadows
+struck through the pine woods, the needs of his corn ground battled with
+his desire to fish. In all such crises of the soul Mr. Yancy was fairly
+vanquished before the struggle began; but to the boy his activities were
+perfectly ordered to yield the largest return in contentment.
+
+The Barony had been offered for sale and bought in by Crenshaw for
+eleven thousand dollars, this being the amount of his claim. Some six
+months later he sold the plantation for fifteen thousand dollars to
+Nathaniel Ferris, of Currituck County.
+
+"There's money in the old place, Bob, at that figure," Crenshaw told
+Yancy.
+
+"There are so," agreed Yancy, who was thinking Crenshaw had lost no time
+in getting it out.
+
+They were seated on the counter in Crenshaw's store at Balaam's Cross
+Roads, where the heavy odor of black molasses battled with the sprightly
+smell of salt fish. The merchant held the Scratch Hiller in no small
+esteem. Their intimacy was of long standing, for the Yancys going down
+and the Crenshaws coming up had for a brief space flourished on the
+same social level. Mr. Crenshaw's rise in life, however, had been
+uninterrupted, while Mr. Yancy, wrapped in a philosophic calm and deeply
+averse to industry, had permitted the momentum imparted by a remote
+ancestor to carry him where it would, which was steadily away from
+that tempered prosperity his family had once boasted as members of the
+land-owning and slaveholding class.
+
+"I mean there's money in the place fo' Ferris," Crenshaw explained.
+
+"I reckon yo're right, Mr. John; the old general used to spend a heap
+on the Barony and we all know he never got a cent back, so I reckon the
+money's there yet.
+
+"Bladen's got an answer from them South Carolina Quintards, and they
+don't know nothing about the boy," said Crenshaw, changing the subject.
+"So you can rest easy, Bob; they ain't going to want him."
+
+"Well, sir, that surely is a passel of comfort to me. I find I got all
+the instincts of a father without having had none of the instincts of a
+husband."
+
+A richer, deeper realization of his joy came to Yancy when he had
+turned his back on Balaam's Cross Roads and set out for home through the
+fragrant silence of the pine woods. His probable part in the young life
+chance had placed in his keeping was a glorious thing to the man. He had
+not cared to speculate on the future; he had believed that friends or
+kindred must sooner or later claim Hannibal, but now he felt wonderfully
+secure in Crenshaw's opinion that this was not to be.
+
+Just beyond the Barony, which was midway between Balaam's and the Hill,
+down the long stretch of sandy road he saw two mounted figures, then as
+they drew nearer he caught the flutter of skirts and recognized one of
+the horsewomen. It was Mrs. Ferris, wife of the Barony's new owner. She
+reined in her horse abreast of his cart.
+
+"Aren't you Mr. Yancy?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, that's me--Bob Yancy." He regarded her with large gray eyes
+that were frankly approving in their expression, for she was more than
+commonly agreeable to look upon.
+
+"I am Mrs. Ferris, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance."
+
+"The same here," murmured Yancy with winning civility.
+
+Mrs. Ferris' companion leaned forward, her face averted, and stroked her
+horse's neck with gloved hand.
+
+"This is my friend, Miss Betty Malroy."
+
+"Glad to know you, ma'am," said Yancy.
+
+Miss Malroy faced him, smiling. She, too, was very good to look upon,
+indeed she was quite radiant with youth and beauty.
+
+"We are just returning from Scratch Hill--I think that is what you call
+it?" said Mrs. Ferris.
+
+"So we do," agreed Yancy.
+
+"And the dear little boy we met is your nephew, is he not, Mr. Yancy?"
+It was Betty Malroy who spoke.
+
+"In a manner he is and in a manner he ain't," explained Yancy, somewhat
+enigmatically.
+
+"There are quite a number of children at Scratch Hill?" suggested Mrs.
+Ferris.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, so there are; a body would naturally notice that."
+
+"And no school--not a church even!" continued Mrs. Ferris in a grieved
+tone.
+
+"Never has been," rejoined Yancy cheerfully. He seemed to champion the
+absence of churches and schools on the score of long usage.
+
+"But what do the people do when they want to go to church?" questioned
+Mrs. Ferris.
+
+"Never having heard that any of 'em wanted to go I can't say just
+offhand, but don't you fret none about that, ma'am; there are churches;
+one's up at the Forks, and there's another at Balaam's Cross Roads."
+
+"But that's ten miles from Scratch Hill, isn't it?"
+
+"It's all of that," said Yancy. He sensed it that the lady before
+him, was a person of much force and energy, capable even of reckless
+innovation. Mr. Yancy himself was innately conservative; his religious
+inspiration had been drawn from the Forks and Balaam's Cross Roads. It
+had seemed to answer very well. Mrs. Ferris fixed his wavering glance.
+
+"Don't you think it is too bad, Mr. Yancy, the way those children have
+been neglected? There is nothing for them but to run wild."
+
+"Well, I seen some right good children fetched up that-a-ways--smart,
+too. You see, ma'am, there's a heap a child can just naturally pick up
+of himself."
+
+"Oh!" and the monosyllable was uttered rather weakly. Mr. Yancy's name
+had been given her as that of a resident of weight and influence in the
+classic region of Scratch Hill. Miss Malroy came to her friend's rescue.
+
+"Mrs. Ferris thinks the children should have a chance to learn at
+home. Poor little tots!--they can't walk ten or fifteen miles to
+Sunday-school, now can they, Mr. Yancy?"
+
+"Bless yo' heart, they won't try to!" said Yancy reassuringly. "Sunday's
+a day of rest at Scratch Hill. So are most of the other days of the
+week, but we all aspire to take just a little mo' rest on Sunday than
+any other day. Sometimes we ain't able to, but that's our aim."
+
+"Do you know the old deserted cabin by the big pine?--the Blount place?"
+asked Mrs. Ferris.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I know it."
+
+"I am going to have Sunday-school there for those children; they shan't
+be neglected any longer if I can help it--I should feel guilty, quite
+guilty! Now won't you let your little nephew come? Perhaps they'll not
+find it so very terrible, after all." From which Mr. Yancy concluded
+that when she invaded it, skepticism had rested as a mantle on Scratch
+Hill.
+
+"Every one said we would better talk with you, Mr. Yancy, and we were
+hoping to meet you as we came along," supplemented Miss Malroy, and her
+words of flattery were wafted to him with so sweet a smile that Yancy
+instantly capitulated.
+
+"I reckon you-all can count on my nevvy," he said.
+
+When he reached Scratch Hill, in the waning light of day, Hannibal, in
+a state of high excitement, met him at the log shed, which served as a
+barn.
+
+"I hear you-all have been entertaining visitors while Uncle Bob was
+away," observed Yancy, and remembering what Crenshaw had told him, he
+rested his big hand on the boy's head with a special tenderness.
+
+"There's going to be a school in the cabin in the old field!" said the
+boy. "May I go?--Oh, Uncle Bob, will you please take me?"
+
+"When's this here school going to begin, anyhow?"
+
+"To-morrow at four o'clock, she said, Uncle Bob."
+
+"She's a quick lady, ain't she? Well, I expected you'd be hopping around
+on one leg when you named it to me. You wait until Sunday and see what I
+do fo' my nevvy," said Yancy.
+
+He was as good as his implied promise, but the day began discouragingly
+with an extra and, as it seemed to Hannibal, an unnecessary amount of
+soap and water.
+
+"You owe it to yo'self to show a clean skin in the house of worship.
+Just suppose one of them nice ladies was to cast her eye back of yo'
+ears! She'd surely be put out to name it offhand whether you was black
+or white. I reckon I'll have to barber you some, too, with the shears."
+
+"What's school like, Uncle Bob?" asked Hannibal, twisting and squirming
+under the big resolute hands of the man.
+
+"I can't just say what it's like."
+
+"Why, didn't you ever go to school, Uncle Bob?"
+
+"Didn't I ever go to school! Where do you reckon I got my education,
+anyhow? I went to school several times in my young days."
+
+"On a Sunday, like this?"
+
+"No, the school I tackled was on a week-day."
+
+"Was it hard?" asked Hannibal, who was beginning to cherish secret
+misgivings; for surely all this soap and water must have some sinister
+portent.
+
+"Well, some learn easier than others. I learned middling easy--it didn't
+take me long--and when I felt I knowed enough I just naturally quit and
+went on about my business."
+
+"But what did you learn?" insisted the boy.
+
+"You-all wouldn't know if I told you, because you-all ain't ever been
+to school yo'self. When you've had yo' education we'll talk over what I
+learned--it mostly come out of a book." He hoped his general statement
+would satisfy Hannibal, but it failed to do so.
+
+"What's a book. Uncle Bob?" he demanded.
+
+"Well, whatever a body don't know naturally he gets out of a book. I
+reckon the way you twist, Nevvy, mebby you'd admire fo' to lose an ear!"
+and Mr. Yancy refused further to discuss the knowledge he had garnered
+in his youth.
+
+Hannibal and Yancy were the first to arrive at the deserted cabin in the
+old field that afternoon. They found the place had been recently cleaned
+and swept, while about the wall was ranged a row of benches; there was
+also a table and two chairs. Yancy inspected the premises with the eye
+of mature experience.
+
+"Yes, it surely is a school; any one with an education would know that.
+Just look!--ain't you glad yo' Uncle Bob slicked you up some, now you
+see what them ladies has done fo' to make this place tidy?"
+
+Shy children from the pine woods, big brothers with little sisters and
+big sisters with little brothers, drifted out of the encircling forest.
+Coincident with the arrival of the last of these stragglers Mrs. Ferris
+and Miss Malroy appeared, attended by a colored groom.
+
+"It was so good of you to come, Mr. Yancy! The children won't feel so
+shy with you here," said Mrs. Ferris warmly, as Yancy assisted her to
+dismount, an act of courtesy that called for his finest courage.
+
+Mrs. Ferris' missionary spirit manifested itself agreeably enough on
+the whole. When she had ranged her flock in a solemn-faced row on the
+benches, she began by explaining why Sunday was set apart for a day
+of rest, touching but lightly on its deeper significance as a day
+of worship as well; then she read certain chapters from the Bible,
+finishing with the story of David, a narrative that made a deep
+impression upon Yancy, comfortably seated in the doorway.
+
+"Can't you tell the children a story, Mr. Yancy? Something about their
+own neighborhood I think would be nice, something with a moral," the
+pleasant earnest voice f Mrs. Ferris roused the Scratch Hiller from his
+meditations.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I reckon I can tell 'em a story." He stood up, filling
+the doorway with his bulk. "I can tell you-all a story about this here
+house," he said, addressing himself to the children. He smiled happily.
+"You-all don't need to look so solemn, a body ain't going to snap at
+you! This house are the old Blount cabin, but the Blounts done moved
+away from it years and years ago. They're down Fayetteville way now.
+There was a passel of 'em and they was about as common a lot of white
+folks as you'd find anywhere; I know, because I come to a dance here
+once and Dave Blount called me a liar right in this very room." He
+paused, that this impressive fact might disseminate itself. Hannibal
+slid forward in his seat, his earnest little face bent on Yancy.
+
+"Why did he call you a liar, Uncle Bob?" he demanded.
+
+"Well, I scarcely know, Nevvy, but that's what he done, and he stuck
+some words in front of it that ain't fitten I should repeat."
+
+Miss Malroy's cheeks had become very red, and Mrs. Ferris refused
+to meet her eye, while the children were in a flutter of pleased
+expectancy. They felt the wholly contemporary interest of Yancy's story;
+he was dealing with forms of speech which prevailed and were usually
+provocative of consequences more or less serious. He gave them a wide,
+sunny smile.
+
+"When Dave Blount called me that, I struck out fo' home." At this
+surprising turn in the narrative the children looked their disgust, and
+Mrs. Ferris shot Betty a triumphant glance. "Yes, ma'am, I struck out
+across the fields fo' home, I didn't wish to hear no mo' of that loose
+kind of talk. When I got home I found my old daddy setting up afo' the
+fire, and he says, 'You come away early, son.' I told him what Dave
+Blount had called me and he says, 'You acted like a gentleman, Bob, with
+all them womenfolks about."'
+
+"You had a very good and sensible father, Mr. Yancy. How much better
+than if--" began Mrs. Ferris, who feared that the moral might elude him.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, but along about day he come into the loft where I was
+sleeping and says to me, 'Sun-up, Bob--time fo' you to haul on yo' pants
+and go back yonder and fetch that Dave Blount a smack in the jaw.'" Mrs.
+Ferris moved uneasily in her chair: "I dressed and come here, but when
+I asked fo' Dave he wouldn't step outside, so I just lost patience with
+his foolishness and took a crack at him standing where I'm standing now,
+but he ducked and you can still see, ma'am"--turning to the embarrassed
+Mrs. Ferris--"where my knuckles made a dint in the door-jamb. I got him
+the next lick, though!"
+
+Mr. Yancy's moral tale had reached its conclusion; it was not for him to
+boast unduly of his prowess.
+
+"Uncle Bob, you lift me up and show me them dints!" and Hannibal slipped
+from his seat.
+
+"Oh, no!" said Betty Malroy laughing. She captured the boy and drew him
+down beside her on a corner of her chair. "I am sure you don't want to
+see the dents--Mr. Yancy's story, children, is to teach us how important
+it is to guard our words--and not give way to hasty speech--"
+
+"Betty!" cried Mrs. Ferris indignantly.
+
+"Judith, the moral is as obvious as it is necessary."
+
+Mrs. Ferris gave her a reproachful look and turned to the children.
+
+"You will all be here next Sunday, won't you?--and at the same hour?"
+she said, rising.
+
+There was a sudden clatter of hoofs beyond the door. A man, well dressed
+and well mounted had ridden into the yard. As Mrs. Ferris came from the
+cabin he flung himself out of the saddle and, hat in hand, approached
+her.
+
+"I am hunting a place called the Barony; can you tell me if I am on the
+right road?" he asked. He was a man in the early thirties, graceful and
+powerful of build, with a handsome face.
+
+"It is my husband you wish to see? I am Mrs. Ferris."
+
+"Then General Quintard is dead?" His tone was one of surprise.
+
+"His death occurred over a year ago, and my husband now owns the Barony;
+were you a friend of the general's?"
+
+"No, Madam; he was my father's friend, but I had hoped to meet him." His
+manner was adroit and plausible.
+
+Mrs. Ferris hesitated. The stranger's dress and bearing was that of a
+gentleman, and he could boast of his father's friendship with General
+Quintard. Any doubts she may have had she put aside.
+
+"Will you ride on with us to the Barony and meet my husband, Mr.--?" she
+paused.
+
+"Murrell--Captain Murrell. Thank you; I should like to see the old
+place. I should highly value the privilege," then his eyes rested on
+Miss Malroy.
+
+"Betty, let me present Captain Murrell."
+
+The captain bowed, giving her a glance of bold admiration.
+
+By this time the children had straggled off into the pine woods as
+silently as they had assembled; only Yancy and Hannibal remained. Mrs.
+Ferris turned to the former.
+
+"If you will close the cabin door, Mr. Yancy, everything will be ready
+for next Sunday," she said, and moved toward the horses, followed by
+Murrell. Betty Malroy lingered for a moment at Hannibal's side.
+
+"Good-by, little boy; you must ask your Uncle Bob to bring you up to the
+big house to see me," and stooping she kissed him. "Good-by, Mr. Yancy,
+I liked your story."
+
+Hannibal and Yancy watched them mount and ride away, then the boy said:
+
+"Uncle Bob, now them ladies have gone, won't you please show me them
+dints you made in the doorjamb?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. TROUBLE AT SCRATCH HILL
+
+
+Captain Murrell had established himself at Balaam's Cross Roads. He
+was supposed to be interested in the purchase of a plantation, and in
+company with Crenshaw visited the numerous tracts of land which the
+merchant owned; but though he professed delight with the country, he
+was plainly in no haste to become committed to any one of the several
+propositions Crenshaw was eager to submit. Later, and still in the guise
+of a prospective purchaser, he met Bladen, who also dealt extensively
+in land, and apparently if anything could have pleased him more than
+the region about the Cross Roads it was the country adjacent to
+Fayetteville.
+
+From the first he had assiduously cultivated his acquaintance with
+the new owners of the Barony. He was now on the best of terms with Nat
+Ferris, and it was at the Barony that he lounged away his evenings,
+gossiping and smoking with the planter on the wide veranda.
+
+"The Barony would have suited me," he told Bladen one day. They had
+just returned from an excursion into the country and were seated in the
+lawyer's office.
+
+"You say your father was a friend of the old general's?" said Bladen.
+
+"Years ago, in the north--yes," answered Murrell.
+
+"Odd, isn't it, the way he chose to spend the last years of his life,
+shut off like that and seeing no one?"
+
+Murrell regarded the lawyer in silence for a moment out of his deeply
+sunk eyes.
+
+"Too bad about the boy," he said at length slowly.
+
+"How do you mean, Captain?" asked Bladen.
+
+"I mean it's a pity he has no one except Yancy to look after him," said
+Murrell, but Bladen showed no interest and Murrell went on. "Don't you
+reckon he must have touched General Quintard's life mighty close at some
+point?"
+
+"Well, if so, it eluded me," said Bladen. "I went through General
+Quintard's papers and they contained no clue to the boy's identity that
+I could discover. Fact is, the general didn't leave much beyond an old
+account-book or two; I imagine that before his death he destroyed the
+bulk of his private papers; it looked as if he'd wished to break with
+the past. His mind must have been affected."
+
+"Has Yancy any legal claim on the boy?" inquired Murrell.
+
+"No, certainly not; the boy was merely left with Yancy because Crenshaw
+didn't know what else to do with him."
+
+"Get possession of him, and if I don't buy land here I'll take him West
+with me," said Murrell quietly. Bladen gave him a swift, shrewd glance,
+but Murrell, smiling and easy, met it frankly. "Come," he said, "it's
+a pity he should grow up wild in the pine woods--get him away
+from Yancy--I am' willing to spend five hundred dollars on this if
+necessary."
+
+"As a matter of sentiment?"
+
+"As a matter of sentiment."
+
+Bladen considered. He was not averse to making five hundred dollars, but
+he was decidedly averse to letting slip any chance to secure a larger
+sum. It flashed in upon him that Murrell had uncovered the real purpose
+of his visit to North Carolina; his interest in land had been merely a
+subterfuge.
+
+"Well?" said Murrell.
+
+"I'll have to think your proposition over," said Bladen.
+
+The immediate result of this conversation was that within twenty-four
+hours a man driving two horses hitched to a light buggy arrived at
+Scratch Hill in quest of Bob Yancy, whom he found at dinner and to
+whom he delivered a letter. Mr. Yancy was profoundly impressed by the
+attention, for holding the letter at arm's length, he said,
+
+"Well, sir, I've lived nigh on to forty years, but I never got a piece
+of writing befo'--never, sir. People, if they was close by, spoke to
+me, if at a distance they hollered, but none of 'em ever wrote." After
+gazing at the written characters with satisfaction Mr. Yancy made a
+taper of the letter and lit his pipe, which he puffed meditatively.
+"Sonny, when you grow up you must learn so you can send writings to yo'
+Uncle Bob fo' him to light his pipe with."
+
+"What was in the paper, Uncle Bob?" asked Hannibal.
+
+"Writin'," said Mr. Yancy, and smoked.
+
+"What did the writin' say, Uncle Bob?" insisted the boy.
+
+"It was private," said Mr. Yancy, "very private."
+
+"What's your answer?" demanded the stranger.
+
+"That's private, too," said Mr. Yancy. "You tell him I'll be monstrous
+glad to talk it over with him any time he fancies to come out here."
+
+"He said something about some one I was to carry back with me," objected
+the man.
+
+"Who said that?" asked Mr. Yancy.
+
+"Bladen did."
+
+"How's a body to know who yore talking about unless you name him?" said
+Yancy severely.
+
+"Well, what am I to tell him?"
+
+"It's a free country and I got no call to dictate. You-all can tell
+him whatever you like." Further than this Mr. Yancy would not commit
+himself, and the man went as he came.
+
+The next day Yancy had occasion to visit Balaam's Cross Roads.
+Ordinarily Hannibal would have gone with him, but he was engaged in
+digging out a groundhog's hole with Oglethorpe Bellamy, grandson of
+Uncle Sammy Bellamy, the patriarch of Scratch Hill. Mr. Yancy forbore to
+interrupt this enterprise which he considered of some educational value,
+since the ground-hog's hole was an old one and he was reasonably certain
+that a family of skunks had taken possession of it. When Yancy reached
+the Cross Roads, Crenshaw gave him a disquieting opinion as to the
+probable contents of his letter, for he himself had heard from Bladen
+that he had decided to assume the care of the boy.
+
+"So you reckon it was that--" said Yancy, with a deep breath.
+
+"It's a blame outrage, Bob, fo' him to act like this!" said the merchant
+with heat.
+
+"When do you reckon he's going to send fo' him?" asked Yancy.
+
+"Whenever the notion strikes him."
+
+"What about my having notions too?" inquired Yancy, flecked into
+passion, and bringing his fist down on the counter with a crash.
+
+"You surely ain't going to oppose him, Bob?"
+
+"Does he say when he's going to send fo' my nevvy?"
+
+"He says it will be soon."
+
+"You take care of my mule, Mr. John," said Yancy, and turned his back on
+his friend.
+
+"I reckon Bladen will have the law on his side, Bob!"
+
+"The law be damned--I got what's fair on mine, I don't wish fo' better
+than that," exclaimed Yancy, over his shoulder. He strode from the store
+and started down the sandy road at a brisk run. Miserable forebodings of
+an impending tragedy leaped up within him, and the miles were many that
+lay between him and the Hill.
+
+"He'll just naturally bust the face off the fellow Bladen sends!"
+thought Crenshaw, staring after his friend.
+
+That run of Bob Yancy's was destined to become a classic in the annals
+of the neighborhood. Ordinarily a man walking briskly might cover
+the distance between the Cross Roads and the Hill in two hours. He
+accomplished it in less than an hour, and before he reached the branch
+that flowed a full quarter of a mile from his cabin he was shouting
+Hannibal's name as he ran. Then as he breasted the slope he came within
+sight of a little group in his own dooryard. Saving only Uncle Sammy
+Bellamy, the group resolved itself into the women and children of the
+Hill, but there was one small figure he missed, and the color faded from
+his cheeks while his heart stood still. The patriarch hurried toward
+him, leaning on his cane, while his grandson clung to the skirts of his
+coat, weeping bitterly.
+
+"They've took your nevvy, Bob!" he cried, in a high, thin voice.
+
+"Who's took him?" asked Yancy hoarsely. He paused and glanced from one
+to another of the little group.
+
+"Hit were Dave Blount. Get your gun, Bob, and go after him--kill the
+miserable sneaking cuss!" cried Uncle Sammy, who believed in settling
+all difficulties by bloodshed as befitted a veteran of the first war
+with England, he having risen to the respectable rank of sergeant in a
+company of Morgan's riflemen; while at sixty-odd in '12, when there was
+recruiting at the Cross Roads, his son had only been able to prevent his
+tendering his services to his country by hiding his trousers. "Fetch his
+rifle, some of you fool women!" cried Uncle Sammy. "By the Fayetteville
+Road, Bob, not ten minutes ago--you can cut him off at Ox Road forks!"
+
+Yancy breathed a sigh of relief. The situation was not entirely
+desperate, for, as Uncle Sammy said, he could reach the Ox Road forks
+before Blount possibly could, by going as the crow flies through the
+pine woods.
+
+"Hit wouldn't have happened if there'd been a man on the Hill, but there
+was nothing but a passel of women about the place. I heard the boys
+crying when Dave Blount lifted your nevvy into the buggy," said Uncle
+Sammy; "all I could do was to cuss him across two fields. I hope you
+blow his hide full of holes!" for a rifle had been placed in Yancy's
+hands.
+
+"Thank you-all kindly," said Yancy, and turning away he struck off
+through the pine woods. A brisk walk of twenty minutes brought him to
+the Ox Road forks, as it was called, where he could plainly distinguish
+the wheel and hoof marks left by the buggy and team as it went to
+Scratch Hill, but there was only the single track.
+
+This important point being settled, sense of sweet peace stole in upon
+Yancy's spirit. He stood his rifle against a tree, lit his pipe with
+flint and steel, and rested comfortably by the wayside. He had not long
+to wait, for presently the buggy hove in sight; whereupon he coolly
+knocked the ashes from his pipe, pocketed it, and prepared for action.
+As the buggy came nearer he recognized his ancient enemy in the person
+of the man who sat at Hannibal's side, and stepping nimbly into the road
+seized the horses by their bits. At sight of him Hannibal shrieked his
+name in an ecstasy of delight.
+
+"Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob--" he, cried.
+
+"Yes, it's Uncle Bob. You can light down, Nevvy. I reckon you've rid far
+enough," said Yancy pleasantly.
+
+"Leggo them horses!" said Mr. Blount, recovering somewhat from the
+effect of Yancy's sudden appearance.
+
+"Light down, Nevvy," said Yancy, still pleasantly. Blount turned to the
+boy as if to interfere. "Don't you put the weight of yo' finger on the
+boy, Blount!" warned Yancy. "Light down, Hannibal!"
+
+Hannibal instantly availed himself of the invitation. At the same moment
+Blount struck at Yancy with his whip and his horses reared wildly,
+thinking the blow meant for them. Seeing that the boy had reached the
+ground in safety, Yancy relaxed his hold on the team, which instantly
+plunged forward. Then as the buggy swept past him he made a dexterous
+grab at Blount and dragged him out over the wheels into the road, where,
+for the second time in his life, he proceeded to fetch Mr. Blount
+a smack in the jaw. This he followed up with other smacks variously
+distributed about his countenance.
+
+"You'll sweat for this, Bob Yancy!" cried Blount, as he vainly sought to
+fend off the blows.
+
+"I'm sweating now--scandalous," said Mr. Yancy, taking his unhurried
+satisfaction of the other. Then with a final skilful kick he sent Mr.
+Blount sprawling. "Don't let me catch you around these diggings again,
+Dave Blount, or I swear to God I'll be the death of you!"
+
+Hannibal rode home through the pine woods in triumph on his Uncle Bob's
+mighty shoulders.
+
+"Did you get yo' ground-hog, Nevvy?" inquired Mr. Yancy presently when
+they had temporarily exhausted the excitement of Hannibal's capture and
+recovery.
+
+"It weren't a ground-hog, Uncle Bob--it were a skunk!"
+
+"Think of that!" murmured Mr. Yancy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. LAW AT BALAAM'S CROSS-ROADS
+
+
+But Mr. Yancy was only at the beginning of his trouble. Three days later
+there appeared on the borders of Scratch Hill a lank gentleman armed
+with a rifle, while the butts of two pistols protruded from the depths
+of his capacious coat pockets. He made his presence known by whooping
+from the edge of the branch, and his whoops shaped themselves into the
+name of Yancy. It was Charley Balaam, old Squire Balaam's nephew. The
+squire lived at the crossroads to which his family had given its name,
+and dispensed the little law that found its way into that part of the
+county. The whoops finally brought Yancy to his cabin door.
+
+"Can I see you friendly, Bob Yancy?" Balaam demanded with the lungs of a
+stentor, sheltering himself behind the thick bole of a sweetgum, for he
+observed that Yancy held his rifle in the crook of his arm and had no
+wish to offer his person as a target to the deadly aim of the Scratch
+Hiller who was famous for his skill.
+
+"I reckon you can, Charley Balaam, if you are friendly," said Yancy.
+
+"I'm a family man, Bob, and I ask you candid, do you feel peevish?"
+
+"Not in particular," and Yancy put aside his rifle.
+
+"I'm a-going to trust you, Bob," said Balaam. And forsaking the shelter
+of the sweetgum he shuffled up the slope.
+
+"How are you, Charley?" asked Yancy, as they shook hands.
+
+"Only just tolerable, Bob. You've been warranted--Dave Blount swore hit
+on to you." He displayed a sheet of paper covered with much writing and
+decorated with a large seal. Yancy viewed this formidable document with
+respect, but did not offer to take it.
+
+"Read it," he said mildly. Balaam scratched his head.
+
+"I don't know that hit's my duty to do that, Bob. Hit's my duty to
+serve it on to you. But I can tell you what's into hit, leavin' out the
+law--which don't matter nohow."
+
+At this juncture Uncle Sammy's bent form emerged from the path that led
+off through the woods in the direction of the Bellamy cabin. With the
+patriarch was a stranger. Now the presence of a stranger on Scratch
+Hill was an occurrence of such extraordinary rarity that the warrant
+instantly became a matter of secondary importance.
+
+"Howdy, Charley. Here, Bob Yancy, you shake hands with Bruce
+Carrington," commanded Uncle Sammy. At the name both Yancy and Balaam
+manifested a quickened interest. They saw a man in the early twenties,
+clean-limbed and broad-shouldered, with a handsome face and shapely
+head. "Yes, sir, hit's a grandson of Tom Carrington that used to own the
+grist-mill down at the Forks. Yo're some sort of wild-hog kin to him,
+Bob--yo' mother was a cousin to old Tom. Her family was powerful upset
+at her marrying a Yancy. They say Tom cussed himself into a 'pleptic fit
+when the news was fetched him."
+
+"Where you located at, Mr. Carrington?" asked Yancy. But Carrington was
+not given a chance to reply. Uncle Sammy saved him the trouble.
+
+"Back in Kentucky. He tells me he's been follerin' the water. What's the
+name of that place where Andy Jackson fit the British?"
+
+"New Orleans," prompted Carrington good naturedly.
+
+"That's hit--he takes rafts down the river to New Orleans, then he comes
+back on ships to Baltimore, or else he hoofs it no'th overland." Uncle
+Sammy had acquired a general knowledge of the stranger's habits and
+pursuits in an incredibly brief space of time. "He wants to visit the
+Forks," he added.
+
+"I'm shortly goin' that way myself, Mr. Carrington, and I'll be pleased
+of your company--but first I got to get through with Bob Yancy," said
+Balaam, and again he produced the warrant. "If agreeable to you, Bob,
+I'll ask Uncle Sammy, as a third party friendly to both, to read this
+here warrant," he said.
+
+"Who's been a-warrantin' Bob Yancy?" cried Uncle Sammy, with shrill
+interest.
+
+"Dave Blount has."
+
+"I knowed hit--I knowed he'd try to get even!" And Uncle Sammy struck
+his walking-stick sharply on the packed earth of Yancy's dooryard.
+"What's the charge agin you, Bob?"
+
+"Read hit," said Balaam. "Why, sho'--can't you read plain writin', Uncle
+Sammy?" for the patriarch was showing signs of embarrassment.
+
+"If you gentlemen will let me--" said Carrington pleasantly. Instantly
+there came a relieved chorus from the three in one breath.
+
+"Why, sure!"
+
+"Would my spectacles help you any, Mr. Carrington?" asked Uncle Sammy
+officiously.
+
+"No, I guess not."
+
+"They air powerful seein' glasses, and I'm aweer some folks read a heap
+easier with spectacles than without 'em." After a moment's scrutiny of
+the paper that Balaam had thrust in his hand, Carrington began:
+
+"To the Sheriff of the County of Cumberland: Greetings."
+
+"He means me," explained Balaam. "He always makes 'em out to the
+sheriff, but they are returned to me and I serve 'em." Carrington
+resumed his reading,
+
+"Whereas, It is alleged that a murderous assault has been committed on
+one David Blount, of Fayetteville, by Robert Yancy, of Scratch Hill,
+said Blount sustaining numerous bruises and contusions, to his great
+injury of body and mind; and, whereas, it is further alleged that said
+murderous assault was wholly unprovoked and without cause, you will
+forthwith take into custody the person of said Yancy, of Scratch Hill,
+charged with having inflicted the bruises and contusions herein set
+forth in the complaint of said Blount, and instantly bring him into our
+presence to answer to these various and several crimes and misdemeanors.
+You are empowered to seize said Yancy wherever he may be at; whether on
+the hillside or in the valley, eating or sleeping, or at rest.
+
+           "De Lancy Balaam, Magistrate.
+
+"Fourth District, County of Cumberland, State of North Carolina. Done
+this twenty-fourth day of May, 1835.
+
+"P.S. Dear Bob: Dave Blount says he ain't able to chew his meat. I
+thought you'd be glad to know."
+
+Smilingly Carrington folded the warrant and handed it to Yancy.
+
+"Well, what are you goin' to do about hit, Bob?" inquired Balaam.
+
+"Maybe I'd ought to go. I'd like to oblige the squire," said Yancy.
+
+"When does this here co't set?" demanded Uncle Sammy.
+
+"Hit don't do much else since he's took with the lumbago," answered
+Balaam somewhat obscurely.
+
+"How are the squire, Charley?" asked Yancy with grave concern.
+
+"Only just tolerable, Bob."
+
+"What did he tell you to do?" and Yancy knit his brows.
+
+"Seems like he wanted me to find out what you'd do. He recommended I
+shouldn't use no violence."
+
+"I wouldn't recommend you did, either," assented Yancy, but without
+heat.
+
+"I'd get shut of this here law business, Bob," advised Uncle Sammy.
+
+"Suppose I come to the Cross Roads this evening?"
+
+"That's agreeable," said the deputy, who presently departed in company
+with Carrington.
+
+Some hours later the male population of Scratch Hill, with a gravity
+befitting the occasion, prepared itself to descend on the Cross Roads
+and give its support to Mr. Yancy in his hour of need. To this end those
+respectable householders armed themselves, with the idea that it might
+perhaps be necessary to correct some miscarriage of justice. They were
+shy enough and timid enough, these remote dwellers in the pine woods,
+but, like all wild things, when they felt they were cornered they were
+prone to fight; and in this instance it was clearly iniquitous that Bob
+Yancy's right to smack Dave Blount should be questioned. That denied
+what was left of human liberty. But beyond this was a matter of even
+greater importance: they felt that Yancy's possession of the boy was
+somehow involved.
+
+Yancy had declared himself simply but specifically on this point. Law
+or no law, he would kill whoever attempted to take the boy from him, and
+Scratch Hill believing to a man that in so doing he would be well within
+his rights, was prepared to join in the fray. Even Uncle Sammy, who
+had not been off the Hill in years, announced that no consideration
+of fatigue would keep him away from the scene of action and possible
+danger, and Yancy loaned him his mule and cart for the occasion. When
+the patriarch was helped to his seat in the ancient vehicle he called
+loudly for his rifle.
+
+"Why, pap, what do you want with a weapon?" asked his son indulgently.
+"If there air shootin' I may take a hand in it. Now you-all give me a
+fair hour's start with this mule critter of Bob's, and if nothin' busts
+I'll be at the squire's as soon as the best of you."
+
+Uncle Sammy was given the time allowance he asked and then Scratch Hill
+wended its way down the path to the branch and the highroad. Yancy led
+the straggling procession, with the boy trotting by his side, his little
+sunburned fist clasped in the man's great hand. He, too, was armed.
+He carried the old spo'tin' rifle he had brought from the Barony, and
+suspended from his shoulder by a leather thong was the big horn flask
+with its hickory stopper his Uncle Bob had fashioned for him, while a
+deerskin pouch held his bullets and an extra flint or two. He understood
+that beyond those smacks he had seen his Uncle Bob fetch Mr. Blount, he
+himself was the real cause of this excitement, that somebody, it was
+not plain to his mind just who, was seeking to get him away from Scratch
+Hill, and that a mysterious power called the Law would sooner or later
+be invoked to this dread end. But he knew this much clearly, nothing
+would induce him to leave his Uncle Bob! And his thin little fingers
+nestled warmly against the man's hardened palm. Yancy looked down and
+gave him a sunny, reassuring smile.
+
+"It'll be all right, Nevvy," he said gently.
+
+"You wouldn't let 'em take me, would you, Uncle Bob?" asked the child in
+a fearful whisper.
+
+"Such an idea ain't entered my head. And this here warranting is just
+some of Dave Blount's cussedness."
+
+"Uncle Bob, what'll they do to you?"
+
+"Well, I reckon the squire'll feel obliged to do one of two things.
+He'll either fine me or else he won't."
+
+"What'll you do if he fines you?"
+
+"Why, pay the fine, Nevvy--and then lick Dave Blount again for stirring
+up trouble. That's the way we most in general do. I mean to say give him
+a good licking, and that'll make him stop his foolishness."
+
+"Wasn't that a good licking you gave him on the Ox Road, Uncle Bob?"
+asked Hannibal.
+
+"It was pretty fair fo' a starter, but I'm capable of doing a better
+job," responded Yancy.
+
+They overtook Uncle Sammy as he turned in at the squire's.
+
+"I thought I'd come and see what kind of law a body gets at this here
+co't of yours," the patriarch explained to Mr. Balaam, who, forgetting
+his lumbago, had hurried forth to greet him.
+
+"But why did you fetch your gun, Uncle Sammy?" asked the magistrate,
+laughing.
+
+"Hit were to be on the safe side, Squire. Where air them Blounts?"
+
+"Them Blounts don't need to bother you none. There air only Dave, and he
+can't more than half see out of one eye to-day."
+
+The squire's court held its infrequent sittings in the best room of the
+Balaam homestead, a double cabin of hewn logs. Here Scratch Hill was
+gratified with a view of Mr. Blount's battered visage, and it was
+conceded that his condition reflected creditably on Yancy's physical
+prowess and was of a character fully to sustain that gentleman's
+reputation; for while he was notoriously slow to begin a fight, he
+was reputed to be even more reluctant to leave off once he had become
+involved in one.
+
+"What's all this here fuss between you and Bob Yancy?" demanded the
+squire when he had administered the oath to Blount. Mr. Blount's
+statement was brief and very much to the point. He had been hired by Mr.
+Bladen, of Fayetteville, to go to Scratch Hill and get the boy who
+had been temporarily placed in Yancy's custody at the time of General
+Quintard's death.
+
+"Stop just there!" cried the magistrate, leveling a pudgy finger at
+Blount. "This here co't is already cognizant of certain facts bearing on
+that p'int. The boy was left with Bob Yancy mainly because nobody else
+would take him. Them's the facts. Now go on!" he finished sternly.
+
+"I only know what Bladen told me," said Blount sullenly.
+
+"Well, I reckon Mr. Bladen ought to feel obliged to tell the truth,"
+said the squire.
+
+"He done give me the order from the judge of the co't--I was to show it
+to Bob Yancy--"
+
+"Got that order?" demanded the squire sharply. With a smile, damaged,
+but clearly a smile, Blount produced the order. "Hmm--app'inted guardeen
+of the boy--" the squire was presently heard to murmur. The crowded room
+was very still now, and more than one pair of eyes were turned pityingly
+in Yancy's direction. When the long arm of the law reached out from
+Fayetteville, where there was a real judge and a real sheriff, it
+clothed itself with very special terrors. The boy looked up into Yancy's
+face. That tense silence had struck a chill through his heart.
+
+"It's all right," whispered Yancy reassuringly, smiling down upon him.
+And Hannibal, comforted, smiled back, and nestled his head against his
+Uncle Bob's side.
+
+"Well, Mr. Blount, what did you do with this here order?" asked the
+squire.
+
+"I went with it to Scratch Hill," said Blount.
+
+"And showed it to Bob Yancy?" asked the squire.
+
+"No, he wa'n't there. But the boy was, and I took him in my buggy and
+drove off. I'd got as far as the Ox Road forks when I met Yancy--"
+
+"What happened then?--but a body don't need to ask! Looks like the law
+was all you had on your side!" and the squire glanced waggishly about
+the room.
+
+"I showed Yancy the order--"
+
+"You lie, Dave Blount; you didn't!" said Yancy. "But I can't say as it
+would have made no difference, Squire. He'd have taken his licking just
+the same and I'd have had my nevvy out of that buggy!"
+
+"Didn't he say nothing about this here order from the colt, Bob?"
+
+"There wa'n't much conversation, Squire. I invited my nevvy to light
+down, and then I snaked Dave Blount out over the wheel."
+
+"Who struck the first blow?"
+
+"He did. He struck at me with his buggy whip."
+
+"What you got to say to this, Mr. Blount?" asked the squire.
+
+"I say I showed him the order like I said," answered Blount doggedly.
+Squire Balaam removed his spectacles and leaned back in his chair.
+
+"It's the opinion of this here co't that the whole question of assault
+rests on whether Bob Yancy saw the order. Bob Yancy swears he didn't see
+it, while Dave Blount swears he showed it to him. If Bob Yancy didn't
+know of the existence of the order he was clearly actin' on the idea
+that Blount was stealin' his nevvy, and he done what any one would have
+done under the circumstances. If, on the other hand, he knowed of this
+order from the co't, he was not only guilty of assault, but he
+was guilty of resistin' an officer of the co't." The squire paused
+impressively. His audience drew a long breath. The impression prevailed
+that the case was going against Yancy, and more than one face was turned
+scowlingly on the fat little justice.
+
+"Can a body drap a word here?" It was Uncle Sammy's thin voice that cut
+into the silence.
+
+"Certainly, Uncle Sammy. This here co't will always admire to listen to
+you."
+
+"Well, I'd like to say that I consider that Fayetteville co't mighty
+officious with its orders. This part of the county won't take nothin'
+off Fayetteville! We don't interfere with Fayetteville, and blamed
+if we'll let Fayetteville interfere with us!" There was a murmur of
+approval. Scratch Hill remembered the rifles in its hands and took
+comfort.
+
+"The Fayetteville co't air a higher co't than this, Uncle Sammy,"
+explained the squire indulgently.
+
+"I'm aweer of that," snapped the patriarch. "I've seen hit's steeple."
+
+"Air you finished, Uncle Sammy?" asked the squire deferentially.
+
+"I 'low I am. But I 'low that if this here case is goin' agin Bob Yancy
+I'd recommend him to go home and not listen to no mo' foolishness."
+
+"Mr. Yancy will oblige this co't by setting still while I finish this
+case," said the squire with dignity. "As I've already p'inted out, the
+question of veracity presents itself strongly to the mind of this here
+colt. Mr. Yancy has sworn to one thing, Mr. Blount to another. Now
+the Yancys air an old family in these parts; Mr. Blount's folks air
+strangers, but we don't know nothing agin them--"
+
+"And we don't know nothing in their favor," Uncle Sammy interjected.
+
+"Dave's grandfather came here from Virginia about fifty years back and
+settled near Scratch Hill--"
+
+"We never knowed why he left Virginia or why he came here," said Uncle
+Sammy, and knowing what local feeling was, was sure he had shot a
+telling bolt.
+
+"Then, about twenty-five years ago Dave's father pulled up and went to
+Fayetteville. Nobody ever knowed why--and I don't remember that he ever
+offered any explanation--" continued the squire.
+
+"He didn't--he just left," said Uncle Sammy.
+
+"Consequently," pursued the squire, somewhat vindictively, "we ain't had
+any time in which to form an opinion of the Blounts; but for myself, I'm
+suspicious of folks that keep movin' about and who don't seem able to
+get located permanent nowheres, who air here to-day and away tomorrow.
+But you can't say that of the Yancys. They air an old family in the
+country, and naturally this co't feels obliged to accept a Yancy's
+word before the word of a stranger. And in view of the fact that the
+defendant did not seek litigation, but was perfectly satisfied to let
+matters rest where they was, it is right and just that all costs should
+fall on the plaintiff."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE ENCOUNTER
+
+
+Betty Malroy had ridden into the squire's yard during the progress of
+the trial and when Yancy and Hannibal came from the house she beckoned
+the Scratch Hiller to her. She was aware that Mr. Yancy, moving along
+the line of least industrial resistance, might be counted of little
+worth in any broad scheme of life. Nat Ferris had strongly insisted
+on this point, as had Judith, who shared her husband's convictions;
+consequently, the rumors of his present difficulty had merely excited
+them to adverse criticism. They had been sure the best thing that could
+happen the boy would be his removal from Yancy's guardianship, but this
+was not at all her conclusion. She considered Mr. Bladen heartless and
+his course without justification, and she regarded Yancy's affection for
+the boy as in itself constituting a benefit that quite outweighed his
+unprogressive example.
+
+"You are not going to lose your nephew, are you, Mr. Yancy?" she asked
+eagerly, when Yancy stood at her side.
+
+"No, ma'am." But his sense of elation was plainly tempered by the
+knowledge that for him the future held more than one knotty problem.
+
+"I am very glad! I know Hannibal will be much happier with you than with
+any one else," and she smiled brightly at the boy, whose small sunburned
+face was upturned to hers.
+
+"I think that-a-ways myself, Miss Betty, but this trial was only for
+my smacking Dave Blount, who was trying to steal my nevvy," explained
+Yancy.
+
+"I hope you smacked him well and hard!" said the girl, whose mood was
+warlike.
+
+"I ain't got no cause to complain, thank you," returned Mr. Yancy
+pleasantly.
+
+"I rode out to the Hill to say good-by to Hannibal and to you, but they
+said you were here and that the trial was today."
+
+Captain Murrell, with Crenshaw and the squire, came from the house, and
+Murrell's swarthy face lit up at sight of the girl. Yancy, sensible
+of the gulf that yawned between himself and what was known as "the
+quality," would have yielded his place, but Betty detained him.
+
+"Are you going away, ma'am?" he asked with concern.
+
+"Yes--to my home in west Tennessee," and a cloud crossed her smooth
+brow.
+
+"That surely is a right big distance for you to travel, ma'am," said
+Yancy, his mind opening to this fresh impression. "I reckon it's rising
+a hundred miles or mo'," he concluded, at a venture.
+
+"It's almost a thousand."
+
+"Think of that! And you are that ca'm!" cried Yancy admiringly, as a
+picture of simply stupendous effort offered itself to his mind's eye.
+He added: "I am mighty sorry you are going. We-all here shall miss
+you--specially Hannibal. He just regularly pines for Sunday as it is."
+
+"I hope he will miss me a little--I'm afraid I want him to!" She glanced
+down at the boy as she spoke, and into her eyes, very clear and very
+blue and shaded by long dark lashes, stole a look of wistful tenderness.
+She noted how his little hand was clasped in Yancy's, she realized the
+perfect trust of his whole attitude toward this big bearded man, and she
+was conscious of a sudden feeling of profound respect for the Scratch
+Hiller.
+
+"But ain't you ever coming back, Miss Betty?" asked Hannibal rather
+fearfully, smitten with the awesome sense of impermanence which dogs our
+footsteps.
+
+"Oh, I hope so, dear--I wish to think so. But you see my home is not
+here." She turned to Yancy, "So it is settled that he is to remain with
+you?"
+
+"Not exactly, Miss Betty. You see, there's an order from the
+Fayetteville co't fo' me to give him up to this man Bladen."
+
+"But Uncle Bob says--" began Hannibal, who considered his Uncle Bob's
+remarks on this point worth quoting.
+
+"Never mind what yo' Uncle Bob said," interrupted Yancy hastily.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Yancy, you are not going to surrender him--no matter what the
+court says!" cried Betty. The expression on Yancy's face was so grim and
+determined on the instant with the latent fire that was in him flashing
+from his eyes that she added quickly, "You know the law is for you as
+well as for Mr. Bladen!"
+
+"I reckon I won't bother the law none," responded Yancy briefly. "Me and
+my nevvy will go back to Scratch Hill and there won't be no trouble
+so long as they leave us be. But them Fayetteville folks want to keep
+away--" The fierce light slowly died out of his eyes. "It'll be all
+right, ma'am, and it's mighty good and kind of you fo' to feel the way
+you do. I'm obliged to you."
+
+But Betty was by no means sure of the outcome Yancy seemed to predict
+with such confidence. Unless Bladen abandoned his purpose, which he was
+not likely to do, a tragedy was clearly pending for Scratch Hill.
+She saw the boy left friendless, she saw Yancy the victim of his own
+primitive conception of justice. Therefore she said:
+
+"I wonder you don't leave the Hill, Mr. Yancy. You could so easily go
+where Mr. Bladen would never find you. Haven't you thought of this?"
+
+"That are a p'int," agreed Yancy slowly. "Might I ask what parts you'd
+specially recommend?" lifting his grave eyes to hers.
+
+"It would really be the sensible thing to do!" said Betty. "I am sure
+you would like West Tennessee--they say you are a great hunter." Yancy
+smiled almost guiltily.
+
+"I like a little spo't now and then yes, ma'am, I do hunt some," he
+admitted.
+
+"Miss Betty, Uncle Bob's the best shot we got! You had ought to see him
+shoot!" said Hannibal.
+
+"Mr. Yancy, if you should cross the mountains, remember I live near
+Memphis. Belle Plain is the name of the plantation--it's not hard to
+find; just don't forget--Belle Plain."
+
+"I won't forget, and mebby you will see us there one of these days.
+Sho', I've seen mighty little of the world--about as far as a dog can
+trot it a couple of hours!"
+
+"Just think what it will mean to Hannibal if you become involved further
+with Mr. Bladen." Betty spoke earnestly, bending toward him, and Yancy
+understood the meaning that lay back of her words.
+
+"I've thought of that, too," the Scratch Hiller answered seriously.
+Betty glanced toward the squire and Mr. Crenshaw. They were standing
+near the bars that gave entrance to the lane. Murrell had left them
+and was walking briskly down the road toward Crenshaw's store where his
+horse was tied. She bent down and gave Yancy her slim white hand.
+
+"Good-by, Mr. Yancy--lift Hannibal so that I can kiss him!" Yancy swung
+the child aloft. "I think you are such a nice little boy, Hannibal--you
+mustn't forget me!" And touching her horse lightly with the whip she
+rode away at a gallop.
+
+"She sho'ly is a lady!" said Yancy, staring after her. "And we mustn't
+forget Memphis or Belle Plain, Nevvy."
+
+Crenshaw and the squire approached.
+
+"Bob," said the merchant, "Bladen's going to have the boy--but he made
+a mistake in putting this business in the hands of a fool like Dave
+Blount. I reckon he knows that now."
+
+"I reckon his next move will be to send a posse of gun-toters up from
+Fayetteville," said the squire.
+
+"That's just what he'll do," agreed Crenshaw, and looked disturbed.
+
+"They certainly air an unpeaceable lot--them Fayetteville folks! It's
+always seemed to me they had a positive spite agin this end of the
+county," said the squire, and he pocketed his spectacles and refreshed
+himself with a chew of tobacco. "Bladen ain't actin' right, Bob. It's a
+year and upwards since the old general 'died. He let you go on thinking
+the boy was to stay with you and now he takes a notion to have him!"
+
+"No, sir, it ain't right nor reasonable. And what's more, he shan't have
+him!" said Yancy, and his tone was final.
+
+"I don't know what kind of a mess you're getting yourself into, Bob,
+I declare I don't!" cried Crenshaw, who felt that he was largely
+responsible for the whole situation.
+
+"Looks like your neighbors would stand by you," suggested the squire.
+
+"I don't want them to stand by me. It'll only get them into trouble,
+and I ain't going to do that," rejoined Yancy, and lapsed into momentary
+silence. Then he resumed meditatively, "There was old Baldy Ebersole who
+shot the sheriff when they tried to arrest him for getting drunk down in
+Fayetteville and licking the tavern-keeper--"
+
+"Sho', there wa'n't no harm in Baldy!" said the squire, with heat. "When
+that sheriff come along here looking for him, I told him p'inted that
+Baldy said he wouldn't be arrested. A more truthful man I never knowed,
+and if the damn fool had taken my word he'd be living yet!"
+
+"But you-all know what trouble killing that sheriff made fo' Baldy!"
+said Yancy. "He told me often he regretted it mo' than anything he'd
+ever done. He said it was most aggravatin' having to always lug a gun
+wherever he went. And what with being suspicious of strangers when he
+wa'n't suspicious by nature, he reckoned in time it would just naturally
+wear him out."
+
+"He stood it until he was risin' eighty," said Crenshaw.
+
+"His, father lived to be ninety, John, and as spry an old gentleman as
+a body'd wish to see. I don't uphold no man for committing murder, but
+I do consider the sheriff should have waited on Baldy to get mo'
+reasonable, like he'd done in time if they'd just let him alone--but
+no, sir, he reckoned the law wa'n't no respecter of persons. He was a
+fine-appearin' man, that sheriff, and just elected to office. I remember
+we had to leave off the tail-gate to my cart to accommodate him. Yes,
+sir, they pretty near pestered Baldy into his grave--and seein' that
+pore old fellow pottering around year after year always toting a gun was
+the patheticest sight I most ever seen, and I made up my mind then if
+it ever seemed necessary for me to kill a man, I'd leave the county or
+maybe the state," concluded the squire.
+
+"Don't you reckon it would be some better to leave the state afo' you.
+done the killing?" suggested Yancy.
+
+"Well, a man might. I don't know but what he'd be justified in getting
+shut of his troubles like that."
+
+When Betty Malroy rode away from Squire Balaam's Murrell galloped
+after her. Presently she heard the beat of his horse's hoofs as he came
+pounding along the sandy road and glanced back over her shoulder. With
+an exclamation of displeasure she reined in her horse. She had not
+wished to ride to the Barony with him, yet she had no desire to treat
+him with discourtesy, especially as the Ferrises were disposed to like
+him. Murrell quickly gained a place at her side.
+
+"I suppose Ferris is at the Barony?" he said, drawing his horse down to
+a walk.
+
+"I believe he is," said Betty with a curt little air.
+
+"May I ride with you?" he gave her a swift glance. She nodded
+indifferently and would have urged her horse into a gallop again, but
+he made a gesture of protest. "Don't--or I shall think you are still
+running away from me," he said with a short laugh.
+
+"Were you at the trial?" she asked. "I am glad they didn't get Hannibal
+away from Yancy."
+
+"Oh, Yancy will have his hands full with that later--so will Bladen," he
+added significantly. He studied her out of those deeply sunken eyes of
+his in which no shadow of youth lingered, for men such as he reached
+their prime early, and it was a swiftly passing splendor. "Ferris tells
+me you are going to West Tennessee?" he said at length.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I know your half-brother, Tom Ware--I know him very well." There was
+another brief silence.
+
+"So you know Tom?" she presently observed, and frowned slightly. Tom was
+her guardian, and her memories of him were not satisfactory. A burly,
+unshaven man with a queer streak of meanness through his character.
+She had not seen him since she had been sent north to Philadelphia, and
+their intercourse had been limited to infrequent letters. His always
+smelled of strong, stale tobacco, and the well-remembered whine in the
+man's voice ran through his written sentences.
+
+"You've spent much of your time up North?" suggested Murrell.
+
+"Four years. I've been at school, you know. That's where I met Judith."
+
+"I hope you'll like West Tennessee. It's still a bit raw compared with
+what you've been accustomed to in the North. You haven't been back in
+all those four years?" Betty shook her head. "Nor seen Tom--nor any one
+from out yonder?" For some reason a little tinge of color had crept into
+Betty's cheeks. "Will you let me renew our acquaintance at Belle Plain?
+I shall be in West Tennessee before the summer is over; probably I shall
+leave here within a week," he said, bending toward her. His glance dwelt
+on her face and the pliant lines of her figure, and his sense swam.
+Since their first meeting the girl's beauty had haunted and allured
+him; with his passionate sense of life he was disposed to these
+violent fancies, and he had a masterful way with women just as he had
+a masterful way with men. Now, however, he was aware that he was viewed
+with entire indifference. His vanity, which was his whole inner self,
+was hurt, and from the black depths of his nature his towering egotism
+flashed out lawless and perverted impulses. "I must tell you that I am
+not of your sort, Miss Malroy--" he continued hurriedly. "My people were
+plain folk out of the mountains. For what I am I have no one to thank
+but myself. You must be aware of the prejudices of the planter class,
+for it is your class. Perhaps I haven't been quite frank at the
+Barony--I felt it was asking too much when you were there. That was a
+door I didn't want closed to me!"
+
+"I imagine you will be welcome at Belle Plain. You are Tom's friend."
+Murrell bit his lip, and then laughed as his mind conjured up a picture
+of the cherished Tom. Suddenly he reached out and rested his hand on
+hers. He lived in the shadow of chance not always kind, his pleasures
+were intoxicating drafts snatched in the midst of dangers, and here was
+youth, sweet and perfect, that only needed awakening.
+
+"Betty--if I might think--" he began, but his tongue stumbled. His
+love-making was usually of a savage sort, but some quality in the girl
+held him in check. The words he had spoken many times before forsook
+him. Betty drew away from him, an angry color on her cheeks and an angry
+light in her eyes. "Forgive me, Betty!" muttered Murrell, but his heart
+beat against his ribs, and passion sent its surges through him. "Don't
+you know what I'm trying to tell you?" he whispered. Betty gathered up
+her reins. "Not yet--" he cried, and again he rested a heavy hand on
+hers. "Don't you know what's kept me here? It was to be near you--only
+that--I've been waiting for this chance to speak. It was long in coming,
+but it's here now--and it's mine!" he exulted. His eyes burned with a
+luminous fire, he urged his horse nearer and they came to a halt. "Look
+here--I'll follow you North--I swear I love you--say I may!"
+
+"Let me go--let me go!" cried Betty indignantly.
+
+"No--not yet!" he urged his horse still nearer and gathered her close.
+"You've got to hear me. I've loved you since the first moment I rested
+my eyes on you--and, by God, you shall love me in return!" He felt her
+struggle to free herself from his grasp with a sense of savage triumph.
+It was the brute force within him that conquered with women just as it
+conquered with men.
+
+Bruce Carrington, on his way back to Fayetteville from the Forks, came
+about a turn in the road. Betty saw a tall, handsome fellow in the first
+flush of manhood; Carrington, an angry girl, very beautiful and very
+indignant, struggling in a man's grasp.
+
+At sight of the new-comer, Murrell, with an oath, released Betty, who,
+striking her horse with the whip galloped down the road toward the
+Barony. As she fled past Carrington she bent low in her saddle.
+
+"Don't let him follow me!" she gasped, and Carrington, striding forward,
+caught Murrell's horse by the bit.
+
+"Not so fast, you!" he said coolly. The two men glared at each other for
+a brief instant.
+
+"Take your hand off my horse!" exclaimed Murrell hoarsely, his mouth hot
+and dry with a sense of defeat.
+
+"Can't you see she'd rather be alone?" said Carrington.
+
+"Let go!" roared Murrell, and a murderous light shot from his eyes.
+
+"I don't know but I should pull you out of that saddle and twist your
+neck!" said Carrington hotly. Murrell's face underwent a swift change.
+
+"You're a bold fellow to force your way into a lover's quarrel," he said
+quietly. Carrington's arm dropped at his side. Perhaps, after all,
+it was that. Murrell thrust his hand into his pocket. "I always give
+something to the boy who holds my horse," he said, and tossed a coin in
+Carrington's direction. "There--take that for your pains!" he added. He
+pulled his horse about and rode back toward the cross-roads at an easy
+canter.
+
+Carrington, with an angry flush on his sunburnt cheeks, stood staring
+down at the coin that glinted in the dusty road, but he was seeing the
+face of the girl, indignant, beautiful--then he glanced after Murrell.
+
+"I reckon I ought to have twisted his neck," he said with a deep breath.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. BETTY SETS OUT FOR TENNESSEE
+
+
+Bruce Carrington came of a westward-looking race. From the low coast
+where they had first settled, those of his name had followed the rivers
+to their headwaters. The headwaters had sent them forth toward the
+foot-hills, where they made their, clearings and built their cabins in
+the shadow of the blue wall that for a time marked the furthest goal of
+their desires. But only for a time. Crossing the mountains they found
+the headwaters once more, and following the streams out of the hills saw
+the roaring torrents become great placid rivers.
+
+Carrington's father had put the mountains at his back thirty years
+before. The Watauga settlements had furnished him a wife, and some
+four years later Bruce was born on the banks of the Ohio. The senior
+Carrington had appeared on horseback as a wooer, but had walked on foot
+as a married man, each shift of residence he made having represented
+a descent to a lower social level. On the death of his wife he had
+embarked in the river trade with all that enthusiasm and hope he had
+brought to half-a-dozen other occupations, for he was a gentleman of
+prodigious energy.
+
+Bruce's first memories had to do with long nights when he perched beside
+his father on the cabin roof of their keel-boat and watched the stars,
+or the blurred line of the shore where it lay against the sky, or the
+lights on other barges and rafts drifting as they were drifting, with
+their wheat and corn and whisky to that common market at the river's
+mouth.
+
+Sometimes they dragged their boat back up-stream, painfully,
+laboriously; three or four months of unremitting toil sufficed for this,
+when the crew sweated at the towing ropes from dawn until dark, that
+the rich planters in Kentucky and Tennessee might have tea and wine for
+their tables, and silks and laces for their womenfolk. More often
+they abandoned their boat and tramped north, armed and watchful, since
+cutthroats and robbers haunted the roads, and river-men, if they had not
+drunk away their last dollar in New Orleans, were worth spoiling. Or,
+if it offered, they took passage on some fast sailing clipper bound for
+Baltimore or Philadelphia, and crossed the mountains to the Ohio and
+were within a week or two of home.
+
+Bruce Carrington had seen the day of barge and raft reach its zenith,
+had heard the first steam packet's shrieking whistle which sounded the
+death-knell of the ancient order, though the shifting of the trade was
+a slow matter and the glory of the old did not pass over to the new at
+once, but lingered still in mighty fleets of rafts and keel-boats and
+in the Homeric carousals of some ten thousand of the half-horse,
+half-alligator breed that nightly gathered in New Orleans. Broad-horns
+and mud-sills they were called in derision. A strange race of aquatic
+pioneers, jeans and leather clad, the rifle and the setting-pole equally
+theirs, they came out of every stream down which a scow could be thrust
+at flood-time; from tiny settlements far back among the hills; from
+those bustling sinks of iniquity, the river towns. But now, surely, yet
+almost imperceptibly, their commerce was slipping from them. At all the
+landings they were being elbowed by the newcomers--men who wore brass
+buttons and gold braid, and shiny leather shoes instead of moccasins;
+men with white hands and gold rings on their fingers and diamonds in
+their shirts--men whose hair and clothing kept the rancid smell of oil
+and smoke and machinery.
+
+After the reading of the warrant that morning, Charley Balaam had shown
+Carrington the road to the Forks, assuring him when they separated that
+with a little care and decent use of his eyes it would be possible to
+fetch up there and not pass plumb through the settlement without knowing
+where he was. But Carrington had found the Forks without difficulty. He
+had seen the old mill his grandfather had built almost a hundred years
+before, and in the churchyard he had found the graves and read the
+inscriptions that recorded the virtues of certain dead and gone
+Carringtons. It had all seemed a very respectable link with the past.
+
+He was on his way to Fayetteville, where he intended to spend the night,
+and perhaps a day or two in looking around, when the meeting with
+Betty and Murrell occurred. As Murrell disappeared in the direction of
+Balaam's, Carrington took a spiteful kick at the unoffending coin, and
+strode off down the Fayetteville pike. But the girl's face remained with
+him. It was a face he would like to see again. He wondered who she was,
+and if she lived in the big house on the other road, the house beyond
+the red gate which Charley Balaam had told him was called the Barony.
+
+He was still thinking of the girl when he ate his supper that night
+at Cleggett's Tavern. Later, in the bar, he engaged his host in idle
+gossip. Mr. Cleggett knew all about the Barony and its owner, Nat
+Ferris. Ferris was a youngish man, just married. Carrington experienced
+a quick sinking of the heart. A fleeting sense of humor succeeded--had
+he interfered between man and wife? But surely if this had been the case
+the girl would not have spoken as she had.
+
+He wound Mr. Cleggett up with sundry pegs of strong New England rum. He
+had met a gentleman and lady on the road that day; he wondered, as he
+toyed with his glass, if it could have been the Ferrises? Mounted? Yes,
+mounted. Then it was Ferris and his wife--or it might have been Captain
+Murrell and Miss Malroy the captain was a strapping, black-haired chap
+who rode a big bay horse. Miss Malroy did not live in that part of
+the country; she was a friend of Mrs. Ferris', belonged in Kentucky or
+Tennessee, or somewhere out yonder--at any rate she was bringing her
+visit to an end, for Ferris had instructed him to reserve a place for
+her in the north-bound stage on the morrow.
+
+Carrington suddenly remembered that he had some thought of starting
+north in the morning himself, but he was still undecided. How about it
+if he deferred his decision until the stage was leaving? Mr. Cleggett
+consulted his bookings and was of the opinion that his chances would
+not be good; and Carrington hastily paid down his money. Later in the
+privacy of his own room he remarked meditatively, viewing his reflection
+in the mirror that hung above the chimneypiece, "I reckon you're plain
+crazy!" and seemed to free himself from all further responsibility for
+his own acts whatever they might be.
+
+The stage left at six, and as Carrington climbed to his seat the next
+morning Mr. Cleggett was advising the driver to look sharp when he
+came to the Barony road, as he was to pick up a party there. It was
+Carrington who looked sharp, and almost at the spot where he had seen
+Betty Malroy the day before he saw her again, with Ferris and Judith and
+a pile of luggage bestowed by the wayside. Betty did not observe him as
+the coach stopped, for she was intent on her farewells with her friends.
+There were hasty words of advice from Ferris, prolonged good-byes to
+Judith, tears--kisses--while a place was being made for her many boxes
+and trunks. Carrington viewed the luggage with awe, and listened without
+shame. He gathered that she was going north to Washington; that her
+final destination was some point either on the Ohio or Mississippi,
+and that her name was Betty. Then the door slammed and the stage was in
+motion again.
+
+Carrington felt sensibly enriched by the meager facts now in his
+possession. He was especially interested in her name. Be liked the
+sound of it. It suited her. He even tried it under his breath softly.
+Betty--Betty Malroy--next he fell to wondering if those few hurried
+words she had addressed to him could possibly be construed as forming a
+basis for a further acquaintance. Or wasn't it far more likely she would
+prefer to forget the episode of the previous day, which had clearly been
+anything but agreeable?
+
+All through the morning they swung forward in the heat and dust and
+glare, with now and then a brief pause when they changed horses, and at
+midday rattled into the shaded main street of a sleepy village and drew
+up before the tavern where dinner was waiting them--a fact that was
+announced by a bare-legged colored boy armed with a club, who beat upon
+a suspended wagon tire.
+
+Betty saw Carrington when she took her seat, and gave a scarcely
+perceptible start of surprise. Then her face was flooded with a rich
+color. This was the man who saw her with Captain Murrell yesterday I
+What must he think of her! There was a brief moment of irresolution and
+then she bowed coldly.
+
+"You just barely managed it. I reckon nobody could misunderstand that.
+By no means cordial--but of course not!" Carrington reflected. His own
+handsome face had been expressionless when he returned her bow, and
+Betty could not have guessed how consoled and comforted he was by it.
+With great fortitude and self-denial he forbore to look in her direction
+again, but he lingered at the table until the last moment that he might
+watch her when she returned to the coach. Mr. Carrington entertained
+ideals where women were concerned, and even though he had been the
+one to profit by it he would not have had Betty depart in the minutest
+particular from those stringent rules he laid down for her sex.
+Consequently that distant air she bore toward him filled him with
+satisfaction. It was quite enough for the present--for the present--that
+three times each day his perseverance and determination were rewarded by
+that curt little acknowledgment of her indebtedness to him.
+
+It was four days to Richmond. Four days of hot, dusty travel, four
+nights of uncomfortable cross-road stations, where Betty suffered
+sleepless nights and the unaccustomed pangs of early rising. She
+occasionally found herself wondering who Carrington was. She approved of
+the manner in which he conducted himself. She liked a man who could be
+unobtrusive. Traveling like that day after day it would have been so
+easy for him to be officious. But he never addressed her and refused
+to see any opportunity to assist her in entering or quitting the stage,
+leaving that to some one else. Presently she was sorry she had bowed
+to him that first day--so self-contained and unpresuming a person as he
+would evidently have been quite satisfied to overlook the omission.
+Then she began to be haunted by doubts. Perhaps, after all, he had not
+recognized her as the girl he had met in the road! This gave her a very
+queer feeling indeed--for what must he think of her? And the next time
+she bowed to this perfect stranger she threw a chilling austerity into
+the salutation quite at variance with her appearance, for the windy
+drive had tangled her hair and blown it in curling wisps about her face.
+This served to trouble Carrington excessively, and furnished him with
+food for reflection through all his waking moments for the succeeding
+eight and forty hours.
+
+The next morning he found himself seated opposite her at breakfast. He
+received another curt little nod, cool and distant, as he took his seat,
+but he felt strongly that a mere bowing acquaintance would no longer
+suffice; so he passed her a number of things she didn't want, and
+presently ventured the opinion that she must find traveling as they
+were, day after day, very fatiguing. Surprised at the sound of his
+voice, before she knew what she was doing, Betty said, "Not at all,"
+closed her red lips, and was immediately dumb.
+
+Carrington at once relapsed into silence and ventured no further opinion
+on any topic. Betty was left wondering whether she had been rude, and
+when they met again asked if the stage would reach Washington at the
+advertised hour. She had been consulting the copy of Badger's and
+Porter's Register which Ferris had thrust into her satchel the morning
+she left the Barony, and which, among a multiplicity of detail as to
+hotels and taverns, gave the runnings of all the regular stage lines,
+packets, canal-boats and steamers, by which one could travel over
+the length and breadth of the land. "You stop in Washington?" said
+Carrington.
+
+Betty shook her head. "No, I am going on to Wheeling."
+
+"You're fortunate in being so nearly home," he observed. "I am going on
+to Memphis." He felt it was time she knew this, or else she might think
+his movements were dictated by her own.
+
+Betty exclaimed: "Why, I am going to Memphis, too!"
+
+"Are you? By canal to Cumberland, and then by stage over the National
+Road to Wheeling?"
+
+Betty nodded. "It makes one wish they'd finish their railroads, doesn't
+it? Do you suppose they'll ever get as far west as Memphis?" she said.
+
+"They say it's going to be bad for the river trade when they're built
+on something besides paper," answered Carrington. "And I happen to be a
+flatboat-man, Miss Malroy."
+
+Betty gave him a glance of surprise.
+
+"Why, how did you learn my name?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, I heard your friends speak it," he answered glibly. But Betty's
+smooth brow was puckered thoughtfully. She wondered if he had--and if he
+hadn't. It was very odd certainly that he should know it.
+
+"So the railroads are going to hurt the steamboats?" she presently said.
+
+"No, I didn't say that. I was thinking of the flatboats that have
+already been hurt by the steamers," he replied. Now to the western mind
+the river-men typified all that was reckless and wild. It was their
+carousals that gave an evil repute to such towns as Natchez. But this
+particular river-man looked harmless. "Carrington is my name, Miss
+Malroy," he added.
+
+No more was said just then, for Betty became reserved and he did not
+attempt to resume the conversation. A day later they rumbled into
+Washington, and as Betty descended from the coach, Carrington stepped to
+her side.
+
+"I suppose you'll stop here, Miss Malroy?" he said, indicating the
+tavern before which the stage had come to a stand. "Yes," said Betty
+briefly.
+
+"If I can be of any service to you--" he began, with just a touch of
+awkwardness in his manner.
+
+"No, I thank you, Mr. Carrington," said Betty quickly.
+
+"Good night... good-by," he turned away, and Betty saw his tall form
+disappear in the twilight.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE FIGHT AT SLOSSON'S TAVERN
+
+
+Murrell had ridden out of the hills some hours back. He now faced the
+flashing splendors of a June sunset, but along the eastern horizon
+the mountains rose against a somber sky. Night was creeping into their
+fastnesses. Already there was twilight in those cool valleys lying
+within the shadow of mighty hills. A month and more had elapsed since
+Bob Yancy's trial. Just two days later man and boy disappeared from
+Scratch Hill. This had served to rouse Murrell to the need of immediate
+action, but he found, where Yancy was concerned, Scratch Hill could keep
+a secret, while Crenshaw's mouth was closed on any word that might throw
+light on the plans of his friend.
+
+"It's plain to my mind, Captain, that Bladen will never get the boy.
+I reckon Bob's gone into hiding with him," said the merchant, with
+spacious candor.
+
+The fugitives had not gone into hiding, however; they had traversed
+the state from east to west, and Murrell was soon on their trail and
+pressing forward in pursuit. Reaching the mountains, he heard of them
+first as ten days ahead of him and bound for west Tennessee, the ten
+days dwindled to a week, the week became five days, the five days three;
+and now as he emerged from the last range of hills he caught sight of
+them. They were half a mile distant perhaps, but he was certain that the
+man and boy he saw pass about a turn in the road were the man and boy he
+had been following for a month.
+
+He was not mistaken. The man was Bob Yancy and the boy was Hannibal.
+Yancy had acted with extraordinary decision. He had sold his few acres
+at Scratch Hill for a lump sum to Crenshaw--it was to the latter's
+credit that the transaction was one in which he could feel no real pride
+as a man of business--and just a day later Yancy and the boy had
+quitted Scratch Hill in the gray dawn, and turned their faces westward.
+Tennessee had become their objective point, since here was a region to
+which they could fix a name, while the rest of the world was strange to
+them. As they passed the turn in the road where Murrell had caught
+his first sight of them, Yancy glanced back at the blue wall of the
+mountains where it lay along the horizon.
+
+"Well, Nevvy," he said, "we've put a heap of distance between us and old
+Scratch Hill; all I can say is, if there's as much the other side of
+the Hill as there is this side, the world's a monstrous big place fo' to
+ramble about in." He carried his rifle and a heavy pack. Hannibal had a
+much smaller pack and his old sporting rifle, burdens of which his Uncle
+Bob relieved him at brief intervals.
+
+For the past ten days their journey had been conducted in a leisurely
+fashion. As Yancy said, they were seeing the world, and it was well to
+take a good look at it while they had a chance. He was no longer fearful
+of pursuit and his temperament asserted itself--the minimum of activity
+sufficed. Usually they camped just where the night overtook them; now
+and then they varied this by lodging at some tavern, for since there
+was money in his pocket, Yancy was disposed to spend it. He could not
+conceive that it had any other possible use.
+
+Suddenly out of the silence came the regular beat of hoofs. These grew
+nearer and nearer, and at last when they were quite close, Yancy faced
+about. He instantly recognized Murrell and dropped his rifle into the
+crook of his arm. The act was instinctive, since there was no reason to
+believe that the captain had the least interest in the boy. Smilingly
+Murrell reined in his horse.
+
+"Why--Bob Yancy!" he cried, in apparent astonishment.
+
+"Yes, sir--Bob Yancy. Does it happen you are looking fo' him, Captain?"
+inquired Yancy.
+
+"No--no, Bob. I'm on my way West. Shake hands." His manner was frank and
+winning, and Yancy met it with an equal frankness.
+
+"Well, sir, me and my nevvy are glad to meet some one we've knowed
+afore. The world are a lonesome place once you get shut of yo'r own
+dooryard," he said. Murrell slipped from his saddle and fell into step
+at Yancy's side as they moved forward.
+
+"They were mightily stirred up at the Cross Roads when I left, wondering
+what had come of you," he observed.
+
+"When did you quit there?" asked Yancy.
+
+"About a fortnight ago," said Murrell. "Every one approves of your
+action in this matter, Yancy," he went on.
+
+"That's kind of them," responded Yancy, a little dryly. There was no
+reason for it, but he was becoming distrustful of Murrell, and uneasy.
+
+"Bladen's hurt himself by the stand he's taken it this matter," Murrell
+added.
+
+They went forward in silence, Yancy brooding and suspicious. For the
+last mile or so their way had led through an unbroken forest, but
+a sudden turn in the road brought them to the edge of an extensive
+clearing. Close to the road were several buildings, but not a tree had
+been spared to shelter them and they stood forth starkly, the completing
+touch to a civilization that was still in its youth, unkempt, rather
+savage, and ruthlessly utilitarian. A sign, the work of inexpert hands,
+announced the somewhat dingy structure of hewn logs that stood nearest
+the roadside a tavern. There was a horse rack in front of it and a
+trampled space. It was flanked by its several sheds and barns on one
+hand and a woodpile on the other. Beyond the woodpile a rail fence
+inclosed a corn-field, and beyond the barns and sheds a similar fence
+defined the bounds of a stumpy pasture-lot.
+
+From the door of the tavern the figure of a man emerged. Pausing by the
+horse rack he surveyed the two men and boy, if not with indifference, at
+least with apathy. Just above his head swung the sign with its legend,
+"Slosson--Entertainment"; but if he were Slosson, one could take the last
+half of the sign either as a poetic rhapsody on the part of the painter,
+or the yielding to some meaningless convention, for in his person,
+Mr. Slosson suggested none of those qualities of brain or heart that
+trenched upon the lighter amenities of life. He was black-haired and
+bull-necked, and there was about him a certain shagginess which a recent
+toilet performed at the horse trough had not served to mitigate.
+
+"Howdy?" he drawled.
+
+"Howdy?" responded Mr. Yancy.
+
+"Shall you stop here?" asked Murrell, sinking his voice. Yancy nodded.
+"Can you put us up?" inquired Murrell, turning to the tavern-keeper.
+
+"I reckon that's what I'm here for," said Slosson. Murrell glanced about
+the empty yard. "Slack," observed Slosson languidly. "Yes, sir, slack's
+the only name for it." It was understood he referred to the state of
+trade. He looked from one to the other of the two men. As his eyes
+rested on Murrell, that gentleman raised the first three fingers of
+his right hand. The gesture was ever so little, yet it seemed to have a
+tonic effect on Mr. Slosson. What might have developed into a smile had
+he not immediately suppressed it, twisted his bearded lips as he made
+an answering movement. "Eph, come here, you!" Slosson raised his voice.
+This call brought a half-grown black boy from about a corner of the
+tavern, to whom Murrell relinquished his horse.
+
+"Let's liquor," said the captain over his shoulder, moving off in the
+direction of the bar.
+
+"Come on, Nevvy!" said Yancy following, and they all entered the tavern.
+
+"Well, here's to the best of good luck!" said Murrell, as he raised his
+glass to his lips.
+
+"Same here," responded Yancy. Murrell pulled out a roll of bills, one of
+which he tossed on the bar. Then after a moment's hesitation he detached
+a second bill from the roll and turned to Hannibal.
+
+"Here, youngster--a present for you;" he said good-naturedly. Hannibal,
+embarrassed by the unexpected gift, edged to his Uncle Bob's side.
+
+"Ain't you-all got nothing to say to the gentleman?" asked Yancy.
+
+"Thank you, sir," said the boy.
+
+"That sounds a heap better. Let's see--why, if it ain't ten
+dollars--think of that!" said Yancy, in surprise.
+
+"Let's have another drink," suggested Murrell.
+
+Presently Hannibal stole out into the yard. He still held the bill in
+his hand, for he did not quite know how to dispose of his great wealth.
+After debating this matter for a moment he knotted it carefully in one
+corner of his handkerchief. But this did not quite suit him, for he
+untied the knot and looked at the bill again, turning it over and over
+in his hand. Then he folded it carefully into the smallest possible
+compass and once more tied a corner of his handkerchief about it, this
+time with two knots instead of one; these he afterward tested with his
+teeth.
+
+"I 'low she won't come undone now!" he said, with satisfaction. He
+stowed the handkerchief away in his trousers pocket, ramming it very
+tight with his fist. He was much relieved when this was done, for
+wearing a care-free air he sauntered across the yard and established
+himself on the top rail of the corn-field fence.
+
+The colored boy, armed with an ax, appeared at the woodpile and began to
+chop in the desultory fashion of his race, pausing every few seconds to
+stare in the direction of his white compatriot, who met his glance
+with reserve. Whereupon Mr. Slosson's male domestic indulged in certain
+strange antics that were not rightly any part of woodchopping. This yet
+further repelled Hannibal.
+
+"The disgustin' chattel!" he muttered under his breath, quoting his
+Uncle Bob, with whom, in theory at least, race feeling was strong. Yancy
+appeared at the door of the bar and called to him, and as the boy slid
+from the fence and ran toward him across the yard, the Scratch Hiller
+sauntered forth to meet him.
+
+"I reckon it's all right, Nevvy," he said, "but we don't know nothing
+about this here Captain Murrell--as he calls himself--though he seems a
+right clever sort of gentleman; but we won't mention Belle Plain." With
+this caution he led the way into the tavern and back through the bar to
+a low-ceilinged room where Murrell and Slosson were already at table. It
+was intolerably hot, and there lingered in the heavy atmosphere of the
+place stale and unappetizing odors. Only Murrell attempted conversation
+and he was not encouraged; and presently silence fell on the room
+except for the rattle of dishes and the buzzing of flies. When they had
+finished, the stale odors and the heat drove them quickly into the bar
+again, where for a little time Hannibal sat on Yancy's knee, by the
+door. Presently he slipped down and stole out into the yard.
+
+The June night was pulsing with life. Above him bats darted in short
+circling flights. In the corn-field and pasture-lot the fireflies lifted
+from their day-long sleep, showing pale points of light in the half
+darkness, while from some distant pond or stagnant watercourse came the
+booming of frogs, presently to swell into a resonant chorus. These were
+the summer night sounds he had known as far back as his memory went.
+
+In the tavern the three men were drinking--Murrell with the idea that
+the more Yancy came under the influence of Slosson's corn whisky the
+easier his speculation would be managed. Mr. Yancy on his part believed
+that if Murrell went to bed reasonably drunk he would sleep late and
+give him the opportunity he coveted, to quit the tavern unobserved at
+break of day. Gradually the ice of silence which had held them mute at
+supper, thawed. At first it was the broken lazy speech of men who were
+disposed to quiet, then the talk became brisk--a steady stream of rather
+dreary gossip of horses and lands and negroes, of speculations past and
+gone in these great staples.
+
+Hannibal crossed to the corn-field. There, in the friendly gloom, he
+examined his handkerchief and felt of the rolled-up bill. Then he made
+count of certain silver and copper coins which he had in his other
+pocket. Satisfied that he had sustained no loss, he again climbed to the
+top rail of the fence where he seated himself with an elbow resting on
+one knee and his chin in the palm of his hand.
+
+"I got ten dollars and seventy cents--yes, sir--and the clostest
+shooting rifle I ever tossed to my shoulder." He seemed but small to
+have accomplished such a feat. He meditated for a little space. "I
+reckon when we strike the settlements again I should like to buy my
+Uncle Bob a present." With knitted brows he considered what this should
+be, canvassing Yancy's needs. He had about decided on a ring such as
+Captain Murrell was wearing, when he heard the shuffling of bare feet
+over the ground and a voice spoke out of the darkness.
+
+"When yo' get to feelin' like sleep, young boss, Mas'r Slosson he says I
+show yo' to yo' chamber." It was Slosson's boy Eph.
+
+"Did you-all happen to notice what they're doing in the tavern now?"
+asked Hannibal.
+
+"I low they're makin' a regular hog-killin' of it," said Eph smartly.
+Hannibal descended from the fence.
+
+"Yes, you can show me my chamber," he said, and his tone was severe.
+What a white man did was not a matter for a black man to criticize. They
+went toward the open door of the tavern. Mr. Slosson's corn whisky had
+already wrought a marked transformation in the case of Slosson himself.
+His usually terse speech was becoming diffuse and irrelevant, while
+vacant laughter issued from his lips. Yancy was apparently unaffected
+by the good cheer of which he had partaken, but Murrell's dark face
+was flushed. The Scratch Hiller's ability to carry his liquor exceeded
+anything he had anticipated.
+
+"You-all run along to bed, Nevvy," said Yancy, as Hannibal entered the
+room. "I'll mighty soon follow you."
+
+Eph secured a tin candle-stick with a half-burnt candle in it and led
+the way into the passage back of the bar.
+
+"Mas'r Slosson's jus' mo' than layin' back!" he said, as he closed the
+door after them.
+
+"I reckon you-all will lay back, too, when you get growed up," retorted
+Hannibal.
+
+"No, sir, I won't. White folks won't let a nigger lay back. Onliest time
+a nigger sees co'n whisky's when he's totin' it fo' some one else."
+
+"I reckon a nigger's fool enough without corn whisky," said Hannibal.
+They mounted a flight of stairs and passed down a narrow hall. This
+brought them to the back of the building, and Eph pushed open the door
+on his right.
+
+"This heah's yo' chamber," he said, and preceding his companion into the
+room, placed the candle on a chair.
+
+"Well--I low I clean forgot something!" cried Hannibal.
+
+"If it's yo' bundle and yo' gun, I done fotched 'em up heah and laid 'em
+on yo' bed," said Eph, preparing' to withdraw.
+
+"I certainly am obliged to you," said Hannibal, and with a good night,
+Eph retired, closing the door after him, and the boy heard the patter of
+his bare feet as he scuttled down the hall.
+
+The moon was rising and Hannibal went to the open window and glanced
+out. His room overlooked the back yard of the inn and a neglected truck
+patch. Starting from a point beyond the truck patch and leading straight
+away to the woodland beyond was a fenced lane, with the corn-field and
+the pasture-lot on either hand. Immediately below his window was the
+steeply slanting roof of a shed. For a moment he considered the night,
+not unaffected by its beauty, then, turning from the window, he moved
+his bundle and rifle to the foot of the bed, where they would be out of
+his way, kicked off his trousers, blew out the candle and lay down. The
+gossip of the men in the bar ran like a whisper through the house, and
+with it came frequent bursts of noisy laughter. Listening for these
+sounds the boy dozed off.
+
+Yancy had become more and more convinced as the evening passed that
+Murrell was bent on getting him drunk, and suspicion mounted darkly to
+his brain. He felt certain that he was Bladen's agent. Now, Mr. Yancy
+took an innocent pride in his ability to "cool off liquor." Perhaps it
+was some heritage from a well living ancestry that had hardened its head
+with Port and Madeira in the days when the Yancys owned their acres and
+their slaves. Be that as it may, he was equal to the task he had set
+himself. He saw with satisfaction the flush mount to Murrell's swarthy
+cheeks, and felt that the limit of his capacity was being reached.
+Mr. Slosson had become a sort of Greek chorus. He anticipated all the
+possible phases of drunkenness that awaited his companions. He went from
+silence to noisy mirth, when his unmeaning laughter rang through the
+house; he told long witless stories as he leaned against the bar; he
+became melancholy and described the loss of his wife five years before.
+From melancholy he passed to sullenness and seemed ready to fasten a
+quarrel on Yancy, but the latter deftly evaded any such issue.
+
+"What you-all want is another drink," he said affably. "With all you
+been through you need a tonic, so shove along that extract of cornshucks
+and molasses!"
+
+"I'm a rip-staver," said Slosson thickly. "But I've knowed enough sorrow
+to kill a horse."
+
+"You have that look. Captain, will you join us?" asked Yancy. Murrell
+shook his head, but he made a significant gesture to Slosson as Yancy
+drained his glass.
+
+"Have a drink with me!" cried Slosson, giving way to drunken laughter.
+
+"Don't you reckon you'll spite yo' appetite fo' breakfast, neighbor?"
+suggested Yancy.
+
+"Do you mean you won't drink with me?" roared Slosson.
+
+"The captain's dropped out and I 'low it's about time fo' these here
+festivities to come to an end. I'm thinking some of going to bed
+myself," said Yancy. He kept his eyes fixed on Murrell. He realized
+that if the latter could prevent it he was not to leave the bar. Murrell
+stood between him and the door; more than this, he stood between him and
+his rifle, which leaned against the wall in the far corner of the room.
+Slosson roared out a protest to his words. "That's all right, neighbor,"
+retorted Yancy over his shoulder, "but I'm going to bed." He never
+shifted his glance from Murrell's face. Scowling now, the captain's eyes
+blazed back their challenge as he thrust his right hand under his coat.
+"Fair play--I don't know who you are, but I know what you want!" said
+Yancy, the light in his frank gray eyes deepening. Murrell laughed and
+took a forward step. At the same moment Slosson snatched up a heavy club
+from back of the bar and dealt Yancy a murderous blow. A single startled
+cry escaped the Scratch Hitler; he struck out wildly as he lurched
+toward Murrell, who drew his knife and drove it into his shoulder.
+
+Groping wildly, Yancy reached his rifle and faced about. His scalp
+lay open where Slosson's treacherous blow had fallen and his face was
+covered with blood; even as his fingers stiffened they found the hammer,
+but Murrell, springing forward, kicked the gun out of his hands. Dashing
+the blood from his eyes, Yancy threw himself on Murrell. Then, as
+they staggered to and fro, Yancy dully bent on strangling his enemy,
+Slosson--whom the sight of blood had wonderfully sobered--rushed out
+from the bar and let loose a perfect torrent of blows with his club.
+Murrell felt the fingers that gripped him grow weak, and Yancy dropped
+heavily to the floor.
+
+
+How long the boy slept he never knew, but he awoke with a start and a
+confused sense of things. He seemed to have heard a cry for help. But
+the tavern was very silent now. The distant murmur of voices and the
+shouts of laughter had ceased. He lifted himself up on his elbow
+and glanced from the window. The heavens were pale and gray. It was
+evidently very late, probably long after midnight but where was his
+Uncle Bob?
+
+He sank back on his pillow intent and listening. What he had heard, what
+he still expected to hear, he could not have told, but he was sure he
+had been roused by a cry of some sort. A chilling terror that gripped
+him fast and would not let him go, mounted to his brain. Once he thought
+he heard cautious steps beyond his door. He could not be certain, yet
+he imagined the bull-necked landlord standing with his ear to some crack
+seeking to determine whether or not he slept. His thin little body grew
+rigid and a cold sweat started from him. He momentarily expected the
+latch to be lifted, then in the heavy silence he caught the sound of
+some stealthy movement beyond the lath and plaster partition, and an
+instant later an audible footfall. He heard the boards creak and give,
+as the person who had been standing before his door passed down the
+hall, down the stairs, and to the floor below.
+
+Limp and shivering, he drew his scanty covering tight about him. In the
+silence that succeeded, he once more became aware of the tireless
+chorus of the frogs, the hooting of the owls, and the melancholy and
+oft-repeated call of the whippoorwill. But where was his Uncle Bob? Why
+didn't he come to bed? And whose was that cry for help he had heard?
+Memories of idle tales of men foully dealt with in these lonely taverns,
+of murderous landlords, and mysterious guests who were in league with
+them, flashed through his mind.
+
+Murrell had followed them for this--and had killed his Uncle Bob, and
+he would be sent back to Bladen! The law had said that Bladen could
+have him and that his Uncle Bob must give him up. The law put men in
+prison--it hanged them sometimes--his Uncle Bob had told him all about
+it--by the neck with ropes until they were dead! Maybe they wouldn't
+send him back; maybe they would do with him what they had already done
+with his Uncle Bob; he wanted the open air, the earth under his feet,
+and the sky over his head. The four walls stifled him. He was not afraid
+of the night, he could run and hide in it--there were the woods and
+fields where he would be safe.
+
+He slid from the bed, and for a long moment stood cold and shaking, his
+every sense on the alert. With infinite caution he got into his trousers
+and again paused to listen, since he feared his least movement might
+betray him. Reassured, he picked up his battered hat from the floor and
+inch by inch crept across the squeaking boards to the window. When the
+window was reached he paused once more to listen, but the quiet that was
+everywhere throughout the house gave him confidence. He straddled the
+low sill, and putting out his hand gripped the stock of his rifle and
+drew that ancient weapon toward him. Next he secured his pack, and was
+ready for flight.
+
+Encumbered by his belongings, but with no mind to sacrifice them, he
+stepped out upon the shed and made his way down the slant of the roof
+to the eaves. He tossed his bundle to the ground and going down on his
+knees lowered his rifle, letting the muzzle fall lightly against the
+side of the shed as it left his hand, then he lay flat on his stomach
+and, feet first, wriggled out into space. When he could no longer
+preserve his balance, he gave himself a shove away from the eaves and
+dropped clear of the building.
+
+As he recovered himself he was sure he heard a door open and close, and
+threw himself prone on the ground, where the black shadow cast by the
+tavern hid him. At the same moment two dark figures came from about a
+corner of the building. He could just distinguish that they carried
+some heavy burden between them and that they staggered as they moved.
+He heard Slosson curse drunkenly, and a whispered word from Murrell. The
+two men slowly crossed the truck patch, and the boy's glance followed
+them, his eyes starting from his head. Just at the mouth of the lane
+they paused and put down their burden; a few words spoken in a whisper
+passed between them and they began to drag some dark thing down the
+lane, their backs bent, their heads bowed and the thing they dragged
+bumping over the uneven ground.
+
+They passed out of sight, and breathless and palsied, Hannibal crept
+about a corner of the tavern. He must be sure! The door of the bar stood
+open; the lamps were still burning, and the upturned chairs and a broken
+table told of the struggle that had taken place there. The boy rested
+his hand on the top step as he stared fearfully into the room. His palm
+came away with a great crimson splotch. But he was not satisfied yet.
+He must be sure--sure! He passed around the building as the men had
+done and crossed the truck patch to the mouth of the lane. Here he slid
+through the fence into the corn-field, and, well sheltered, worked his
+way down the rows. Presently he heard a distant sound--a splash--surely
+it was a splash--.
+
+A little later the men came up the lane, to disappear in the direction
+of the tavern. Hannibal peered after them. His very terrors, while they
+wrenched and tortured him, gave him a desperate kind of courage. As
+the gloom hid the two men, he started forward again; he must know the
+meaning of that sound--that splash, if it was a splash. He reached the
+end of the cornfield, climbed the fence, and entered a deadening of
+slashed and mutilated timber. In the long wet grass he found where the
+men had dragged their burden. He reached down and swept his hand to
+and fro--once--twice--the third time his little palm came away red and
+discolored.
+
+There was the first pale premonition of dawn in the sky, and as he
+hurried on the light grew, and the black trunks of trees detached
+themselves from the white mist that filled the woods and which the
+dawn made visible. There was light enough for him to see that he was
+following the trail left by the men; he could distinguish where the dew
+had been brushed from the long grass. Advancing still farther, he heard
+the clear splash of running water, an audible ripple that mounted into
+a silver cadence. Day was breaking now. The lifeless gray along the
+eastern horizon had changed to orange. Still following the trail, he
+emerged upon the bank of the Elk River, white like the woods with its
+ghostly night sweat.
+
+The dull beat of the child's heart quickened as he gazed out on the
+swift current that was hurrying on with its dreadful secret. Then
+the full comprehension of his loss seemed to overwhelm him and he was
+utterly desolate. Sobs shook him, and he dropped on his knees, holding
+fast to the stock of his rifle.
+
+"Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob, come back! Can't you come back!" he wailed
+miserably. Presently he staggered to his feet. Convulsive sobs still
+wrenched his little body. What was he to do? Those men--his Uncle Bob's
+murderers--would go to his room; they would find his empty bed and their
+search for him would begin! Not for anything would he have gone back
+through the corn-field or the lane to the road. He had the courage to
+go forward, but not to retrace his steps; and the river, deep and
+swift, barred his path. As he glanced about, he saw almost at his feet a
+dug-out, made from a single poplar log. It was secured to an overhanging
+branch by a length of wild grape-vine. With one last fearful look off
+across the deadening in the direction of the tavern, he crept down to
+the water's edge and entered the canoe. In a moment, he had it free from
+its lashing and the rude craft was bumping along the bank in spite of
+his best efforts with the paddle. Then a favoring current caught it and
+swept it out toward the center of the stream.
+
+It was much too big and clumsy for him to control without the stream's
+help, though he labored doggedly with his paddle. Now he was broadside
+to the current, now he was being spun round and round, but always he
+was carried farther and farther from the spot where he had embarked. He
+passed about a bend; and a hundred yards beyond, about a second bend;
+then the stream opened up straight before him a half-mile of smooth
+running water. Far down it, at the point where the trees met in the
+unbroken line of the forest and the water seemed to vanish mysteriously,
+he could distinguish a black moving object; some ark or raft, doubtless.
+
+In the smoother water of the long reach, Hannibal began to make head
+against the flood. The farther shore became the nearer, and finally he
+drove the bow of his canoe up on a bit of shelving bank, and seizing
+his pack and rifle, sprang ashore. Panting and exhausted, he paused just
+long enough to push the canoe out into the stream again, and then, with
+his rifle and pack in his hands, turned his small tear-stained face
+toward the wooded slope beyond. As he toiled up it in the wide silence
+of the dawn, a mournful wind burst out of the north, filling the air
+about him with withered leaves and the dead branches of trees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. ON THE RIVER
+
+
+Betty stood under a dripping umbrella in the midst of a drenching
+downpour, her boxes and trunks forming a neat pyramid of respectable
+size beside her. She was somewhat perturbed in spirit, since they
+contained much elaborate finery all in the very latest eastern fashion,
+spoils that were the fruit of a heated correspondence with Tom, who
+hadn't seemed at all alive to the fact that Betty was nearly eighteen
+and in her own right a young woman of property. A tarpaulin had been
+thrown over the heap, and with one eye on it and the other on the
+stretch of yellow canal up which they were bringing the fast packet
+Pioneer, she was waiting impatiently to see her belongings transferred
+to a place of safety.
+
+Just arrived by the four-horse coach that plyed regularly between
+Washington and Georgetown, she had found the long board platform beside
+the canal crowded with her fellow passengers, their number augmented
+by those who delight to share vicariously in travel and to whom the
+departure of a stage or boat was a matter of urgent interest requiring
+their presence, rain or shine. Suddenly she became aware of a tall,
+familiar figure moving through the crowd. It was Bruce Carrington. At
+the same moment he saw her, and with a casual air that quite deceived
+her, approached; and Betty, who had been feeling very lonely and very
+homesick, was somehow instantly comforted at sight of him. She welcomed
+him almost as a friend.
+
+"You're leaving to-night?" he asked.
+
+"Yes--isn't it miserable the way it rains? And why are they so slow--why
+don't they hurry with that boat?"
+
+"It's in the last lock now," explained Carrington.
+
+"My clothes will all be ruined," said Betty. He regarded the dress she
+wore with instant concern. "No--I mean the things in my trunks; this
+doesn't matter," and Betty nodded toward the pile under the steaming
+tarpaulin. Carrington's dark eyes opened with an expression of mild
+wonder. And so those trunks were full of clothes--Oh, Lord!--he looked
+down at the flushed, impatient face beside him with amusement.
+
+"I'll see that they are taken care of," he said, for the boat was
+alongside the platform now; and gathering up Betty's hand luggage, he
+helped her aboard.
+
+By the time they had reached Wheeling, Betty had quite parted with
+whatever superficial prejudice she might have had concerning river-men.
+This particular one was evidently a very nice river-man, an exception
+to his kind. She permitted him to assume the burden of her plans, and
+no longer scanned the pages of her Badger's and Porter's with a puckered
+brow. It reposed at the bottom of her satchel. He made choice of the
+steamer on which she should continue her journey, and thoughtfully chose
+The Naiad--a slow boat, with no reputation for speed to sustain. It
+meant two or three days longer on the river, but what of that? There
+would be no temptation in the engine-room to attach a casual wrench or
+so to the safety-valve as an offset to the builder's lack of confidence
+in his own boilers. He saw to it that her state-room was well
+aft--steamers had a trick of blowing up forward.
+
+Ne had now reached a state of the utmost satisfaction with himself and
+the situation. Betty was friendly and charming. He walked with her, and
+he talked with her by the hour; and always he was being entangled deeper
+and deeper in the web of her attraction. "When alone he would pace the
+deck recalling every word she had spoken. There was that little air
+of high breeding which was Betty's that fascinated him. He had known
+something of the other sort, those who had arrived at prosperity with
+manners and speech that still reflected the meaner condition from which
+they had risen.
+
+"I haven't a thing to offer her--this is plain madness of mine!" he kept
+telling himself, and then the expression of his face would become grim
+and determined. No more of the river for him--he'd get hold of some land
+and go to raising cotton; that was the way money was made.
+
+Slow as The Naiad was, the days passed much too swiftly for him. When
+Memphis was reached their friendly intercourse would come to an end.
+There would be her brother, of whom she had occasionally spoken--he
+would be pretty certain to have the ideas of his class.
+
+As for Betty, she liked this tall fellow who helped her through the
+fatigue of those long days, when there was only the unbroken sweep of
+the forest on either hand, with here and there a clearing where some
+outrageous soul was making a home for himself. The shores became duller,
+wilder, more uninteresting as they advanced, and then at last they
+entered the Mississippi, and she was almost home.
+
+Betty was not unexcited by the prospect. She would be the mistress of
+the most splendid place in West Tennessee. She secretly aspired to be a
+brilliant hostess. She could remember when the doors of Belle Plain
+were open to whoever had the least claim to distinction--statesmen
+and speculators in land; men who were promoting those great schemes of
+improvement, canals and railroads; hard-featured heroes of the two
+wars with England--a diminishing group; the men of the modern army, the
+pathfinders, and Indian fighters, and sometimes a titled foreigner. She
+wondered if Tom had maintained the traditions of the place. She found
+that Carrington had heard of Belle Plain. He spoke of it with respect,
+but with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm, for how could he feel
+enthusiasm when he must begin his chase after fortune with bare
+hands?--he suffered acutely whenever it was mentioned. The days, like
+any other days, dwindled. The end of it all was close at hand. Another
+twenty-four hours and Carrington reflected there would only be good-by
+to say.
+
+"We will reach New Madrid to-night," he told her. They were watching the
+river, under a flood of yellow moonlight.
+
+"And then just another day--Oh, I can hardly wait!" cried Betty
+delightedly. "Soon I shall hope to see you at Belle Plain, Mr.
+Carrington," she added graciously.
+
+"Thank you, your--your family--" he hesitated.
+
+"There's only just Tom--he's my half-brother. My mother was left a widow
+when I was a baby. Later, some years after, she married Tom's father."
+
+"Oh--then he's not even your half-brother?"
+
+"He's no relation at all--and much older. When Tom's father died my
+mother made Tom, manager, and still later he was appointed my guardian."
+
+"Then you own Belle Plain?" and Carrington sighed.
+
+"Yes. You have never seen it?--it's right on the river, you know?" then
+Betty's face grew sober: "Tom's dreadfully queer--I expect he'll require
+a lot of managing!"
+
+"I reckon you'll be equal to that!" said-Carrington, convinced of
+Betty's all-compelling charm.
+
+"No, I'm not at all certain about Tom--I can see where we shall have
+serious differences; but then, I shan't have to struggle single-handed
+with him long; a cousin of my mother's is coming to Belle Plain to
+make her home with me--she'll make' him behave," and Betty laughed
+maliciously. "It's a great nuisance being a girl!"
+
+Then Betty fell to watching for the lights at New Madrid, her elbows
+resting on the rail against which she was leaning, and the soft curve
+of her chin sunk in the palms of her hands. She wondered absently what
+Judith would have said of this river-man. She smiled a little dubiously.
+Judith had certainly vindicated the sincerity of her convictions
+regarding the importance of family, inasmuch as in marrying Ferris she
+had married her own second cousin. She nestled her chin a little closer
+in her palms. She remembered that they had differed seriously over Mr.
+Yancy's defiance, of the law as it was supposed to be lodged in the
+sacred person of Mr. Bladen's agent, the unfortunate Blount. Carrington,
+with his back against a stanchion, watched her discontentedly.
+
+"You'll be mighty glad to have this over with, Miss Malroy--" he said at
+length, with a comprehensive sweep toward the river.
+
+"Yes--shan't you?" and she opened her eyes questioningly.
+
+"No," said Carrington with a short laugh, drawing a chair near hers and
+sitting down.
+
+Betty, in surprise, gave him a quick look, and then as quickly glanced
+away from what she encountered in his eyes. Men were accustomed to talk
+sentiment to her, but she had hoped--well, she really had thought that
+he was, superior to this weakness. She had enjoyed the feeling that here
+was some one, big and strong and thoroughly masculine, with whom she
+could be friendly without--she took another look at him from under the
+fringe of her long lashes. He was so nice and considerate--and good
+looking--he was undeniably this last. It would be a pity! And she had
+already determined that Tom should invite him to Belle Plain. She didn't
+mind if he was a river-man--they could be friends, for clearly he was
+such an exception. Tom should be cordial to him. Betty stared before
+her, intently watching the river. As she looked, suddenly pale points of
+light appeared on a distant headland.
+
+"Is that New Madrid?--Oh, is it, Mr. Carrington?"' she cried eagerly.
+
+"I reckon so," but he did not alter his position.
+
+"But you're not looking!"
+
+"Yes, I am--I'm looking at you. I reckon you'll think me crazy, Miss
+Malroy-presumptuous and all that but I wish Memphis could be wiped off
+the map and that we could go on like this for ever!--no, not like this
+but together--you and I," he took a deep breath. Betty drew a little
+farther away, and looked at him reproachfully; and then she turned to
+the dancing lights far down the river. Finally she said slowly:
+
+"I thought you were--different."
+
+"I'm not," and Carrington's hand covered hers.
+
+"Oh--you mustn't kiss my hand like that--"
+
+"Dear--I'm just a man--and you didn't expect, did you, that I could see
+you this way day after day and not come to love you?" He rested his arm
+across the back of her chair and leaned toward her.
+
+"No--no--" and Betty moved still farther away.
+
+"Give me a chance to win your love, Betty!"
+
+"You mustn't talk so--I am nothing to you--"
+
+"Yes, you are. You're everything to me," said Carrington doggedly.
+
+"I'm not--I won't be!" and Betty stamped her foot.
+
+"You can't help it. I love you and that's all there is about it. I
+know I'm a fool to tell you now, Betty, but years wouldn't make any
+difference in my feeling; and I can't have you go, and perhaps never
+see you again, if I can help it. Betty--give me a chance--you don't hate
+me--"
+
+"But I do--yes, I do--indeed--"
+
+"I know you don't. Let me see you again and do what I can to make you
+care for me!" he implored. But he had a very indignant little aristocrat
+to deal with. She was angry with him, and angry with herself that in
+spite of herself his words moved her. She wouldn't have it so! Why,
+he wasn't even of her class--her kind! "Betty, you don't mean--" he
+faltered.
+
+"I mean--I am extremely annoyed. I mean just what I say." Betty regarded
+him with wrathful blue eyes. It proved too much for Carrington. His arm,
+dropped about her shoulders.
+
+"You shall love me--" She was powerless in his embrace. She felt his
+breath on her cheek, then he kissed her. Breathless and crimson, she
+struggled and pushed him from her. Suddenly his arms fell at his side;
+his face was white. "I was a brute to do that!--Betty, forgive me! I am
+sorry--no, I can't be sorry!"'
+
+"How do you dare! I hope I may never see you again--I hate you--" said
+Betty furiously, tears in her eyes and her pulses still throbbing from
+his fierce caress.
+
+"Do you mean that?" he asked slowly, rising.
+
+"Yes--yes--a million times, yes!"
+
+"I don't believe you--I can't--I won't!" They were alongside the New
+Madrid wharf now, and a certain young man who had been impatiently
+watching The Naiad's lights ever since they became visible crossed the
+gang-plank with a bound.
+
+"Betty--why in the name of goodness did you ever, choose this
+tub?--everything on the river has passed it!" said the newcomer. Betty
+started up with a little cry of surprise and pleasure.
+
+"Charley!"
+
+Carrington stepped back. This must be the brother who had come up the
+river from Memphis to meet her--but her brother's name was Tom! He
+looked this stranger--this Charley--over with a hostile eye, offended by
+his good looks, his confident manner, in which he thought he detected an
+air of ownership, as if--certainly he was holding her hands longer
+than was necessary! Of course, other men were in love with her, such
+a radiant personality held its potent attraction for men, but for all
+that, she was going to belong to him--Carrington! She did like him; she
+had shown it in a hundred little ways during the last week, and he would
+give her up to no man--give her up?--there wasn't the least tie between
+them--except that kiss--and she was furious because of it. There was
+nothing for him to do but efface himself. He would go now, before the
+boat started--and an instant later, when Betty, remembering, turned to
+speak to him, his place by the rail was deserted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. JUDGE SLOCUM PRICE
+
+
+On that day Hannibal was haunted by the memory of what he had heard and
+seen at Slosson's tavern. More than this, there was his terrible sense
+of loss, and the grief he could not master, when his thin, little body
+was shaken by sobs. Marking the course of the road westward, he clung
+to the woods, where his movements were as stealthy as the very
+shadows themselves. He shunned the scattered farms and the infrequent
+settlements, for the fear was strong with him that he might be followed
+either by Murrell or Slosson. But as the dusk of evening crept across
+the land, the great woods, now peopled by strange shadows, sent him
+forth into the highroad. He was beginning to be very tired, and hunger
+smote him with fierce pangs, but back of it all was his sense of bitter
+loss, his desolation, and his loneliness.
+
+"I couldn't forget Uncle Bob if I tried--" he told himself, with
+quivering lips, as he limped wearily along the dusty road, and the
+tears welled up and streaked his pinched face. Now before him he saw
+the scattered lights of a settlement. All his terrors, the terrors that
+grouped themselves about the idea of pursuit and capture, rushed back
+upon him, and in a panic he plunged into the black woods again.
+
+But the distant lights intensified his loneliness. He had lived a whole
+day without food, a whole day without speech. He began to skirt the
+settlement, keeping well within the thick gloom of the woods, and
+presently, as he stumbled forward, he came to a small clearing in the
+center of which stood a log dwelling. The place seemed deserted. There
+was no sign of life, no light shone from the window, no smoke issued
+from the stick-and-mud chimney.
+
+Tilted back in a chair by the door of this house a man was sleeping. The
+hoot of an owl from a near-by oak roused him. He yawned and stretched
+himself, thrusting out his fat legs and extending his great arms. Then
+becoming aware of the small figure which had stolen up the path as
+he slept and now stood before him in the uncertain light, he fell to
+rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of his plump hands. The pale night
+mist out of the silent depths of the forest had assumed shapes as
+strange.
+
+"Who are you?" he demanded, and his voice rumbled thickly forth from his
+capacious chest. The very sound was sleek and unctuous.
+
+"I'm Hannibal," said the small figure. He was meditating flight; he
+glanced over his shoulder toward the woods.
+
+"No, you ain't. He's been dead a thousand years, more or less. Try
+again," recommended the man.
+
+"I'm Hannibal Wayne Hazard," said the boy. The man quitted his chair.
+
+"Well--I am glad to know you, Hannibal Wayne Hazard. I am Slocum
+Price--Judge Slocum Price, sometime major-general of militia and
+ex-member of congress, to mention a few of those honors my fellow
+countrymen have thrust upon me." He made a sweeping gesture with his two
+hands outspread and bowed ponderously.
+
+The boy saw a man of sixty, whose gross and battered visage told its own
+story. There was a sparse white frost about his ears; and his eyes,
+pale blue and prominent, looked out from under beetling brows. He wore
+a shabby plum-colored coat and tight, drab breeches. About his fat neck
+was a black stock, with just a suggestion of soiled linen showing above
+it. His figure was corpulent and unwieldy.
+
+The man saw a boy of perhaps ten, barefoot, and clothed in homespun
+shirt and trousers. On his head was a ruinous hat much too large for
+him, but which in some mysterious manner he contrived to keep from quite
+engulfing his small features, which were swollen and tear-stained. In
+his right hand he carried a bundle, while his left clutched the brown
+barrel of a long rifle.
+
+"You don't belong in these parts, do you?" asked the judge, when he had
+completed his scrutiny.
+
+"No, sir," answered the boy. He glanced off down the road, where lights
+were visible among the trees. "What town is that?" he added.
+
+"Pleasantville--which is a lie--but I am neither sufficiently drunk nor
+sufficiently sober to cope with the possibilities your question offers.
+It is a task one should approach only after extraordinary preparation,"
+and the sometime major-general of militia grinned benevolently.
+
+"It's a town, ain't it?" asked Hannibal doubtfully. He scarcely
+understood this large, smiling gentleman who was so civilly given to
+speech with him, yet strangely enough he was not afraid of him, and his
+whole soul craved human companionship.
+
+"It's got a name--but you'll excuse me, I'd much prefer not to tell you
+how I regard it--you're too young to hear. But stop a bit--have you so
+much as fifty cents about you?" and the judge's eyes narrowed to a slit
+above their folds of puffy flesh. Hannibal, keeping his glance fixed
+on the man's face, fell back a step. "I can't let you go if you are
+penniless--I can't do that!" cried the judge, with sudden vehemence.
+"You shall be my guest for the night. They're a pack of thieves at the
+tavern," he lowered his voice. "I know 'em, for they've plucked me!" To
+make sure of his prey, he rested a fat hand on the boy's shoulder
+and drew him gently but firmly into the shanty. As they crossed the
+threshold he kicked the door shut, then with flint and steel he made a
+light, and presently a candle was sputtering in his hands. He fitted
+it into the neck of a tall bottle, and as the light flared up the boy
+glanced about him.
+
+The interior was mean enough, with its rough walls, dirt floor and
+black, cavernous fireplace. A rude clapboard table did duty as a desk,
+a fact made plain by a horn ink-well, a notary's seal, and a rack with a
+half-dozen quill pens. Above the desk was a shelf of books in worn calf
+bindings, and before it a rickety chair. A shakedown bed in one corner
+of the room was tastefully screened from the public gaze by a tattered
+quilt.
+
+"Boy, don't be afraid. Look on me as a friend," urged the judge, who
+towered above him in the dim candle-light. "Here's comfort without
+ostentation. Don't tell me you prefer the tavern, with its corrupt
+associations!" Hannibal was silent, and the judge, after a brief moment
+of irresolution, threw open the door. Then he bent toward the small
+stranger, bringing his face close to the child's, while his thick lips
+wreathed themselves in a smile ingratiatingly genial. "You can't look
+me squarely in the eye and say you prefer the tavern to these scholarly
+surroundings?" he said banteringly.
+
+"I reckon I'll be glad to stop," answered Hannibal. The judge clapped
+him playfully on the back.
+
+"Such confidence is inspiring! Make yourself perfectly at home. Are you
+hungry?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I ain't had much to eat to-day," replied Hannibal cautiously.
+
+"I can offer you food then. What do you say to cold fish?" the judge
+smacked his lips to impart a relish to the idea. "I dare swear I can
+find you some corn bread into the bargain. Tea I haven't got. On the
+advice of my physician, I don't use it. What do you say--shall we light
+a fire and warm the fish?"
+
+"I 'low I could eat it cold."
+
+"No trouble in the world to start a fire. All we got to do is to go out,
+and pull a few palings off the fence," urged the judge.
+
+"It will do all right just like it is," said Hannibal.
+
+"Very good, then!" cried the judge gaily, and he began to assemble
+the dainties he had enumerated. "Here you are!" he cleared his throat
+impressively, while benignity shone from every feature of his face. "A
+moment since you allowed me to think that you were solvent to the
+extent of fifty cents--" Hannibal looked puzzled. The judge dealt him a
+friendly blow on the back, then stood off and regarded him with a glance
+of great jocularity, his plump knuckles on his hips and his arms akimbo.
+"I wonder"--and his eyes assumed a speculative squint "I wonder if you
+could be induced to make a temporary loan of that fifty cents? The sum
+involved is really such a ridiculous trifle I don't need to point out
+to you the absolute moral certainty of my returning it at an early
+date--say to-morrow morning; say to-morrow afternoon at the latest; say
+even the day after at the very outside. Meantime, you shall be my
+guest. The landlady's son has found my notarial seal an admirable
+plaything--she has had to lick the little devil twice for hooking
+it--my pens and stationery are at your disposal, should you desire to
+communicate to absent friends; you can have the run of my library!" the
+judge fairly trembled in his eagerness. It was not the loss of his money
+that Hannibal most feared, and the coin passed from his possession into
+his host's custody. As it dropped into the latter's great palm he was
+visibly moved. His moist, blue eyes became yet more watery, while
+his battered old face assumed an expression indicating deep inward
+satisfaction. "Thank you, my boy! This is one of those intrinsically
+trifling benefits which, conferred at the moment of acute need, touch
+the heart and tap the unfailing springs of human gratitude--I must step
+down to the tavern--when I return, please God, we shall know more of
+each other." While he was still speaking he had produced a jug from
+behind the quilt that screened his bed, and now, bareheaded, and with
+every indication of haste, took himself off into the night.
+
+Left alone, Hannibal gravely seated himself at the table. What the
+judge's larder lacked in variety it more than made up for in quantity,
+and the boy was grateful for this fact. He was half famished, and
+the coarse, abundant food was of the sort to which he was accustomed.
+Presently he heard the judge's heavy, shuffling step as he came up the
+path from the road, and a moment later his gross bulk of body filled the
+doorway. Breathing hard and perspiring, the judge entered the shanty,
+but his eagerness, together with his shortness of breath, kept him
+silent until he had established himself in his chair beside the table,
+with the jug and a cracked glass at his elbow. Then, bland and smiling,
+he turned toward his guest.
+
+"Will you join me?" he asked.
+
+"No, sir. Please, I'd rather not," said Hannibal.
+
+"Do you mean that you don't like good liquor?" demanded the judge. "Not
+even with sugar and a dash of water?--say, now, don't you like it that
+way, my boy?"
+
+"I ain't learned to like it no ways," said Hannibal.
+
+"You amaze me--well--well--the greater the joy to which you may
+reasonably aspire. The splendid possibilities of youth are yours. My
+tenderest regards, Hannibal!" and he nodded over the rim of the cracked
+glass his shaking hand had carried to his lips. Twice the glass was
+filled and emptied, and then again, his roving, watery eyes rested
+meditatively on the child, who sat very erect in his chair, with his
+brown hands crossed in his lap. "Personally, I can drink or not,"
+explained the judge. "But I hope I am too much a man of the world to
+indulge in any intemperate display of principle." He proved the first
+clause of his proposition by again filling and emptying his glass. "Have
+you a father?" he asked suddenly. Hannibal shook his head. "A mother?"
+demanded the judge.
+
+"They both of them done died years and years ago," answered the boy.
+"I can't tell you how long back it was, but I reckon I don't know much
+about it. I must have been a small child."
+
+"Ho--a small child!" cried the judge, laughing. He cocked his head
+on one side and surveyed Hannibal Wayne Hazard with a glance of comic
+seriousness. "A small child and in God's name what do you call yourself
+now? To hear you talk one would think you had dabbled your feet in the
+Flood!"
+
+"I'm most ten," said Hannibal, with dignity.
+
+"I can well believe it," responded the judge. "And with this weight of
+years, where did you come from and how did you get here?"
+
+"From across the mountains."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"No, sir. Mr. Yancy fetched me--part way." The boy's voice broke when he
+spoke his Uncle Bob's name, and his eyes swam with tears, but the judge
+did not notice this.
+
+"And where are you going?"
+
+"To West Tennessee."
+
+"Have you any friends there?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You've money enough to see you through?" and what the judge intended
+for a smile of fatherly affection became a leer of infinite cunning.
+
+"I got ten dollars."
+
+"Ten dollars--" the judge smacked his lips once. "Ten dollars" he
+repeated, and smacked his lips twice. There was a brief silence, in
+which he seemed to give way to pleasant reveries.
+
+From beyond the open door of the shanty came a multitude of night
+sounds. The moon had risen, and what had been a dusty country road was
+now a streak of silver in the hot light. The purple flush on the judge's
+face, where the dignity that belonged to age had gone down in wreck,
+deepened. The sparse, white frost above his ears was damp with sweat.
+He removed his stock, opened his shirt at the neck, and cast aside his
+coat; then he lighted a blackened pipe, filled his glass, and sank back
+in his chair. The long hours of darkness were all before him, and his
+senses clothed themselves in rich content. Once more his glance rested
+on the boy. Here, indeed, was a guest of whom one might make much and
+not err--he felt all the benevolence of his nature flow toward him. Ten
+dollars!
+
+"Certainly the tavern would have been no place for you! Well, thank God,
+it wasn't necessary for you to go there. You are more than welcome here.
+I tell you, when you know this place as I know it, you'll regard every
+living soul here with suspicion. Keep 'em at arm's length!" he sank his
+voice to an impressive whisper. "In particular, I warn you against a
+certain Solomon Mahaffy. You'll see much of him; I haven't known how to
+rebuff the fellow without being rude--he sticks to me like my shadow.
+He's profited by my charity and he admires my conversation and affects
+my society, but don't tell him you have so much as a rusty copper, for
+he will neither rest nor eat nor sleep until he's plucked you--tell him
+nothing--leave him to me. I keep him--there--" the judge extended his
+fat hands, "at arm's length. I say to him metaphorically speaking--'so
+close, but no closer. I'll visit you when sick, I'll pray with you when
+dying, I'll chat with you, I'll eat with you, I'll smoke with you,
+and if need be, I'll drink with you--but be your intimate? Never! Why?
+Because be's a damned Yankee! These are the inextinguishable feelings
+of a gentleman. I am aware they are out of place in this age, but
+what's bred in the bone will show in the flesh. Who says it won't, is
+no gentleman himself and a liar as well! My place in the world was
+determined two or three hundred years ago, and my ancestors spat on such
+cattle as Mahaffy and they were flattered by the attention!" The judge,
+powerfully excited by his denunciation of the unfortunate Mahaffy,
+quitted his chair and, lurching somewhat as he did so, began to pace the
+floor.
+
+"Take me for your example, boy! You may be poor, you may possibly be
+hungry you'll often be thirsty, but through it all you will remain that
+splendid thing--a gentleman! Lands, niggers, riches, luxury, I've had
+'em all; I've sucked the good of 'em; they've colored my blood, they've
+gone into the fiber of my brain and body. Perhaps you'll contend that
+the old order is overthrown, that family has gone to the devil? You are
+right, and there's the pity of it! Where are the great names? A race
+of upstarts has taken their place--sons of nobody--nephews of
+nobody--cousins of nobody--I observe only deterioration in the trend of
+modern life. The social fabric is tottering--I can see it totter--" and
+he tottered himself as he said this.
+
+The boy had watched him out of wide eyes, as ponderous and unwieldy he
+shuffled back and forth in the dim candlelight; now shaking his head and
+muttering, the judge dropped into his chair.
+
+"Well, I'm an old man-the spectacle won't long offend me. I'll die
+presently. The Bench and Bar will review my services to the country, the
+militia will fire a few volleys at my graveside, here and there a flag
+will be at half-mast, and that will be the end--" He was so profoundly
+moved by the thought that he could not go on. His voice broke, and he
+buried his face in his arms. A sympathetic moisture had gathered in
+the child's eyes. He understood only a small part of what his host was
+saying, but realized that it had to do with death, and he had his own
+terrible acquaintance with death. He slipped from his chair and stole
+to the judge's side, and that gentleman felt a cool hand rest lightly on
+his arm.
+
+"What?" he said, glancing up.
+
+"I'm mighty sorry you're going to die," said the boy softly.
+
+"Bless you, Hannibal!" cried the judge, looking wonderfully cheerful,
+despite his recent bitterness of spirit. "I'm not experiencing any of
+the pangs of mortality now. My dissolution ain't a matter of to-night
+or to-morrow--there's some life in Slocum Price yet, for all the rough
+usage, eh? I've had my fun--I could tell you a thing or two about that,
+if you had hair on your chin!" and the selfish lines of his face twisted
+themselves into an exceedingly knowing grin.
+
+"You talked like you thought you were going to die right off," said
+Hannibal gravely, as he resumed his chair. The judge was touched. It had
+been more years than he cared to remember since he had launched a decent
+emotion in the breast of any human being. For a moment he was silent,
+struck with a sense of shame; then he said:
+
+"You are sure you are not running away, Hannibal? I hope you know
+that boys should always tell the truth--that hell has its own especial
+terrors for the boy who lies? Now, if I thought the worst of you, I
+might esteem it my duty to investigate your story." The judge laid a fat
+forefinger against the side of his nose, and regarded him with drunken
+gravity. Hannibal shook with terror. This was what he had feared.
+"That's one aspect of the case. Now, on the other hand, I might draw
+up a legal instrument which could not fail to be of use to you on
+your travois, and would stop all questions. As for my fee, it would be
+trifling, when compared with the benefits I can see accruing to you."
+
+"No, I ain't running away. I ain't got no one to run away from," said
+the boy chokingly. He was showing signs of fatigue. His head drooped and
+he met the judge's glance with tired, sleepy eyes. The latter looked at
+him and then said suddenly:
+
+"I think you'd better go to bed."
+
+"I reckon I had," agreed Hannibal, slipping from his chair.
+
+"Well, take my bed back of the quilt. You'll find a hoe there. You can
+dig up the dirt under the shuck tick with it--which helps astonishingly.
+What would the world say if it could know that judge Slocum Price makes
+his bed with a hoe! There's Spartan hardihood!" but the boy, not
+knowing what was meant by Spartan hardihood, remained silent. "Nearing
+threescore years and ten, the allotted span as set down by the
+Psalmist--once man of fashion, soldier, statesman and lawgiver--and
+makes his bed with a hoe! What a history!" muttered the judge with weary
+melancholy, as one groping hand found the jug while the other found the
+glass. There was a pause, while he profited by this fortunate chance.
+"Well, take the bed," he resumed hospitably.
+
+"I can sleep most anywhere. I ain't no ways particular," said Hannibal.
+
+"I say, take the bed!" commanded the judge sternly. And Hannibal quickly
+retired behind the quilt. "Do you find it comfortable?" the judge asked,
+when the rustling of the shuck tick informed him that the child had lain
+down.
+
+"Yes, sir," said the boy.
+
+"Have you said your prayers?" inquired the judge.
+
+"No, sir. I ain't said 'em yet."
+
+"Well, say them now. Religion is as becoming in the young as it is
+respectable in the aged. I'll not disturb you to-night, for it is God's
+will that I should stay up and get very drunk."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. BOON COMPANIONS
+
+
+Some time later the judge was aware of a step on the path beyond
+his door, and glancing up, saw the tall figure of a man pause on his
+threshold. A whispered curse slipped from between his lips. Aloud he
+said:
+
+"Is that you, Mr. Mahaffy?" He got no reply, but the tall figure,
+propelled by very long legs, stalked into the shanty and a pair of keen,
+restless eyes deeply set under a high, bald head were bent curiously
+upon him.
+
+"I take it I'm intruding," the new-comer said sourly.
+
+"Why should you think that, Solomon Mahaffy? When has my door been
+closed on you?" the judge asked, but there was a guilty deepening of the
+flush on his face. Mr. Mahaffy glanced at the jug, at the half-emptied
+glass within convenient reach of the judge's hand, lastly at the judge
+himself, on whose flame-colored visage his eyes rested longest.
+
+"I've heard said there was honor among thieves," he remarked.
+
+"I know of no one better fitted to offer an opinion on so delicate a
+point than just yourself, Mahaffy," said the judge, with a thick little
+ripple of laughter.
+
+But Solomon Mahaffy's long face did not relax in its set expression.
+
+"I saw your light," he explained, "but you seem to be raising first-rate
+hell all by yourself."
+
+"Oh, be reasonable, Solomon. You'd gone down to the steamboat landing,"
+said the judge plaintively. By way of answer, Mahaffy shot him a
+contemptuous glance. "Take a chair--do, Solomon!" entreated the judge.
+
+"I don't force my society on any man, Mr. Price," said Mahaffy, with
+austere hostility of tone. The judge winced at the "Mr." That registered
+the extreme of Mahaffy's disfavor.
+
+"You feel bitter about this, Solomon?" he said.
+
+"I do," said Mahaffy, in a tone of utter finality.
+
+"You'll feel better with three fingers of this trickling through your
+system," observed the judge, pushing a glass toward him.
+
+"When did I ever sneak a jug into my shanty?" asked Mahaffy sternly,
+evidently conscious of entire rectitude in this matter.
+
+"I deplore your choice of words, Solomon," said the judge. "You know
+damn well that if you'd been here I couldn't have got past your place
+with that jug! But let's deal with conditions. Here's the jug, with some
+liquor left in it--here's a glass. Now what more do you want?"
+
+"Have I ever been caught like this?" demanded Mahaffy.
+
+"No, you've invariably manifested the honorable disabilities of a
+gentleman. But don't set it all down to virtue. Maybe you haven't had
+the opportunity, maybe the temptation never came and found you weak
+and thirsty. Put away your sinful pride, Solomon--a sot like you has no
+business with the little niceties of selfrespect."
+
+"Do I drink alone?" insisted Mahaffy doggedly.
+
+"I never give you the chance," retorted his friend. Mr. Mahaffy drew
+near the table. "Sit down," urged the judge.
+
+"I hope you feel mean?" said Mahaffy.
+
+"If it's any satisfaction to you, I do," admitted the judge.
+
+"You ought to." Mahaffy drew forward a chair. The judge filled his
+glass. But Mr. Mahaffy's lean face, with its long jaws and high
+cheek-bones, over which the sallow skin was tightly drawn, did not relax
+in its forbidding expression, even when he had tossed off his first
+glass.
+
+"I love to see you in a perfectly natural attitude like that, Solomon,
+with your arm crooked. What's the news from the landing?"
+
+Mahaffy brought his fist down on the table.
+
+"I heard the boat churning away round back of the bend, then I saw
+the lights, and she tied up and they tossed off the freight. Then she
+churned away again and her lights got back of the trees on the bank.
+There was the lap of waves on the shore, and I was left with the
+half-dozen miserable loafers who'd crawled out to see the boat come in.
+That's the news six days a week!"
+
+By the river had come the judge, tentatively hopeful, but at heart
+expecting nothing, therefore immune to disappointment and equipped
+for failure. By the river had come Mr. Mahaffy, as unfit as the judge
+himself, and for the same reason, but sour and bitter with the world,
+believing always in the possibility of some miracle of regeneration.
+
+Pleasantville's weekly paper, The Genius of Liberty, had dwelt at length
+upon those distinguished services judge Slocum Price had rendered the
+nation in war and peace, the judge having graciously furnished an array
+of facts otherwise difficult of access. That he was drunk at the time
+had but added to the splendor of the narrative. He had placed his ripe
+wisdom, the talents he had so assiduously cultivated, at the services of
+his fellow citizens. He was prepared to represent them in any or all
+the courts. But he had remained undisturbed in his condition of
+preparedness; that erudite brain was unconcerned with any problem beyond
+financing his thirst at the tavern, where presently ingenuity, though it
+expressed itself with a silver tongue, failed him, and he realized that
+the river's spent floods had left him stranded with those other odds and
+ends of worthless drift that cumbered its sun-scorched mud banks.
+
+Something of all this passed through his mind as he sat there sodden and
+dreamy, with the one fierce need of his nature quieted for the moment.
+He had been stranded before, many times, in those long years during
+which he had moved steadily toward a diminishing heritage; indeed,
+nothing that was evil could contain the shock of a new experience. He
+had fought and lost all his battles--bitter struggles to think of even
+now, after the lapse of years, and the little he had to tell of
+himself was an intricate mingling of truth and falsehood, grotesque
+exaggeration, purposeless mendacity.
+
+He and Mahaffy had met exactly one month before, on the deck of the
+steamer from which they had been put ashore at the river landing two
+miles from Pleasantville. Mahaffy's historic era had begun just there.
+Apparently he had no past of which he could be brought to speak. He
+admitted having been born in Boston some sixty years before, and was a
+printer by trade; further than this, he had not revealed himself, drunk
+or sober.
+
+At the judge's elbow Mr. Mahaffy changed his position with nervous
+suddenness. Then he folded his long arms.
+
+"You asked if there was any news, Price; while we were waiting for the
+boat a raft tied up to the bank; the fellow aboard of it had a man he'd
+fished up out of the river, a man who'd been pretty well cut to pieces."
+
+"Who was he?" asked the judge.
+
+"Nobody knew, and he wasn't conscious. I shouldn't be surprised if he
+never opens his lips again. When the doctor had looked to his cuts, the
+fellow on the raft cast off and went on down the Elk."
+
+It occurred to the judge that he himself had news to impart. He must
+account for the boy's presence.
+
+"While you've been taking your whiff of life down at the steamboat
+landing, Mahaffy, I've been experiencing a most extraordinary
+coincidence." The judge paused. By a sullen glare in his deep-sunk eyes
+Mr. Mahaffy seemed to bid him go on. "Back east--" the judge jerked
+his thumb with an indefinite gesture "back east at my ancestral
+home--" Mahaffy snorted harshly. "You don't believe I had an ancestral
+home?--well, I had! It was of brick, sir, with eight Corinthian columns
+across the front, having a spacious paneled hall sixty feet long. I had
+the distinguished honor to entertain General Andrew Jackson there."
+
+"Did you get those dimensions out of the jug?" inquiry Mahaffy, with a
+frightful bark that was intended for a sarcastic laugh.
+
+"Sir, it is not in your province to judge me by my present degraded
+associates. Near the house I have described--my father's and his
+father's before him, and mine now--but for the unparalleled misfortunes
+which have pursued me--lived a family by the name of Hazard. And when I
+went to the war of '12--"
+
+"What were you in that bloody time, a sutler?" inquired Mahaffy
+insultingly.
+
+"No, sir--a colonel of infantry!--I say, when I went to the war, one of
+these Hazards accompanied me as my orderly. His grandson is back of that
+curtain now--asleep--in my bed!" Mahaffy put down his glass.
+
+"You were like this once before," he said darkly. But at that instant
+the shuck tick rattled noisily at some movement of the sleeping boy.
+Mahaffy quitted his chair, and crossing the room, drew the quilt aside.
+A glance sufficed to assure him that in part, at least, the judge spoke
+the truth. He let the curtain fall into place and resumed his chair.
+
+"He's an orphan, Solomon; a poor, friendless orphan. Another might
+have turned him away from his door--I didn't; I hadn't the heart to. I
+bespeak your sympathy for him."
+
+"Who is he?" asked Mahaffy.
+
+"Haven't I just told you?" said the judge reproachfully. Mahaffy
+laughed.
+
+"You've told me something. Who is he?"
+
+"His name is Hannibal Wayne Hazard. Wait until he wakes up and see if it
+isn't."
+
+"Sure he isn't kin to you?" said Mahaffy.
+
+"Not a drop of my blood flows in the veins of any living creature,"
+declared the judge with melancholy impressiveness. He continued with
+deepening feeling, "All I shall leave to posterity is my fame."
+
+"Speaking of posterity, which isn't present, Mr. Price, I'll say it is
+embarrassed by the attention," observed Mahaffy.
+
+There was a long silence between them. Mr. Mahaffy drank, and when
+he did not drink he bit his under lip and studied the judge. This was
+always distressing to the latter gentleman. Mahaffy's silence he
+could never penetrate. What was back of it--judgment, criticism,
+disbelief--what? Or was it the silence of emptiness? Was Mahaffy dumb
+merely because he could think of nothing to say, or did his silence
+cloak his feelings-and what were his feelings? Did his meditations
+outrun his habitually insulting speech as he bit his under lip and
+glared at him? The judge always felt impelled to talk at such times,
+while Mahaffy, by that silence of his, seemed to weigh and condemn
+whatever he said.
+
+The moon had slipped below the horizon. Pleasantville had long since
+gone to bed; it was only the judge's window that gave its light to the
+blackness of the night. There was a hoofbeat on the road. It came nearer
+and nearer, and presently sounded just beyond the door. Then it ceased,
+and a voice said:
+
+"Hullo, there!" The judge scrambled to his feet, and taking up the
+candle, stepped, or rather staggered, into the yard. Mahaffy followed
+him.
+
+"What's wanted?" asked the judge, as he lurched up to horse and rider,
+holding his candle aloft. The light showed a tail fellow mounted on a
+handsome bay horse. It was Murrell.
+
+"Is there an inn hereabouts?" he asked.
+
+"You'll find one down the road a ways," said Mahaffy. The judge said
+nothing. He was staring up at Murrell with drunken gravity.
+
+"Have either of you gentlemen seen a boy go through here to-day? A
+boy about ten years old?" Murrell glanced from one to the other. Mr.
+Mahaffy's thin lips twisted themselves into a sarcastic smile. He turned
+to the judge, who spoke up quickly.
+
+"Did he carry a bundle and rifle?" he asked. Murrell gave eager assent.
+
+"Well," said the judge, "he stopped here along about four o'clock and
+asked his way to the nearest river landing." Murrell gathered up his
+reins, and then that fixed stare of the judge's seemed to arrest his
+attention.
+
+"You'll know me again," he observed.
+
+"Anywhere," said the judge.
+
+"I hope that's a satisfaction to you," said Murrell.
+
+"It ain't--none whatever," answered the judge promptly. "For I don't
+value you--I don't value you that much!" and he snapped his fingers to
+illustrate his meaning.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. THE ORATOR OF THE DAY
+
+
+"Hannibal!" the judge's voice and manner were rather stern. "Hannibal, a
+man rode by here last night on a big bay horse. He said he was looking
+for a boy about ten years old--a boy with a bundle and rifle." There was
+an awful pause. Hannibal's heart stood still for a brief instant, then
+it began to beat with terrific thumps against his ribs. "Who was that
+man, Hannibal?"
+
+"I--please, I don't know--" gasped the child.
+
+"Hannibal, who was that man?" repeated the judge.
+
+"It were Captain Murrell." The judge regarded him with a look of great
+steadiness. He saw his small face go white, he saw the look of abject
+terror in his eyes. The judge raised his fist and brought it down with
+a great crash on the table, so that the breakfast dishes leaped and
+rattled. "We don't know any boy ten years old with a rifle and bundle!"
+he said.
+
+"Please--you won't let him take me away, judge I want to stop with you!"
+cried Hannibal. He slipped from his chair, and passing about the table,
+seized the judge by the hand. The judge was visibly affected.
+
+"No!" he roared, with a great oath. "He shan't have you--I'll see him in
+the farthest corner of hell first! Is he kin to you?"
+
+"No," said Hannibal.
+
+"Took you to raise, did he--and abused you--infernal hypocrite!" cried
+the judge with righteous wrath.
+
+"He tried to get me away from my Uncle Bob. He's been following us since
+we crossed the mountains."
+
+"Where is your Uncle Bob?"
+
+"He's dead." And the child began to weep bitterly. Much puzzled, the
+judge regarded him in silence for a moment, then bent and lifted him
+into his lap.
+
+"There, my son--" he said soothingly. "Now you tell me when he died, and
+all about it."
+
+"He were killed. It were only yesterday, and I can't forget him! I don't
+want to--but it hurts--it hurts terrible!" Hannibal buried his head in
+the judge's shoulder and sobbed aloud. Presently his small hands stole
+about the judge's neck, and that gentleman experienced a strange thrill
+of pleasure.
+
+"Tell me how he died, Hannibal," he urged gently. In a voice broken by
+sobs the child began the story of their flight, a confused narrative,
+which the judge followed with many a puzzled shake of the head. But as
+he reached his climax--that cry he had heard at the tavern, the men in
+the lane with their burden--he became more and more coherent and his
+ideas clothed themselves in words of dreadful simplicity and directness.
+The judge shuddered. "Can such things be?" he murmured at last.
+
+"You won't let him take me?"
+
+"I never unsay my words," said the judge grandly. "With God's help
+I'll be the instrument for their destruction." He frowned with a
+preternatural severity. Eh--if he could turn a trick like that, it would
+pull him up! There would be no more jeers and laughter.
+
+What credit and standing it would give him! His thoughts slipped
+along this fresh channel. What a prosecution he would conduct--what a
+whirlwind of eloquence he would loose! He began to breathe hard. His
+name should go from end to end of the state! No man could be great
+without opportunity--for years he had known this--but here was
+opportunity at last! Then he remembered what Mahaffy had told him of the
+man on the raft. This Slosson's tavern was probably on the upper waters
+of the Elk. Yancy had been thrown in the river and had been picked up in
+a dying condition. "Hannibal," he said, "Solomon Mahaffy, who was here
+last night, told me he saw down at the river landing, a man who had been
+fished up out of the Elk--a man who had been roughly handled."
+
+"Were it my Uncle Bob?" cried Hannibal, lifting a swollen face to his.
+
+"Dear lad, I don't know," said the judge sympathetically. "Some people
+on a raft had picked him up out of the river. He was unconscious and no
+one knew him. He was apparently a stranger in these parts."
+
+"It were Uncle Bob! It were Uncle Bob--I know it were my Uncle Bob! I
+must go find him!" and Hannibal slipped from the judge's lap and ran for
+his rifle and bundle.
+
+"Stop a bit!" cried the judge. "He was taken on past here, and he was
+badly injured. Now, if it was your Uncle Bob, he'll come back the moment
+he is able to travel. Meantime, you must remain under my protection
+while we investigate this man Slosson."
+
+But alas--that thoroughfare which is supposed to be paved exclusively
+with good resolutions, had benefited greatly by Slocum Price's labors in
+the past, and he was destined to toil still in its up-keep. He borrowed
+the child's money and spent it, and if any sense of shame smote his
+torpid conscience, he hid it manfully. Not so Mr. Mahaffy; for while
+he profited by his friend's act, he told that gentleman just what
+he thought of him with insulting candor. On the eighth day there was
+sobriety for the pair. Deep gloom visited Mr. Mahaffy, and the judge was
+a prey to melancholy.
+
+It was Saturday, and in Pleasantville a jail-raising was in progress.
+During all the years of its corporate dignity the village had never
+boasted any building where the evil-doer could be placed under
+restraint; hence had arisen its peculiar habit of dealing with crime;
+but a leading citizen had donated half an acre of ground lying midway
+between the town and the river landing as a site for the proposed
+structure, and the scattered population of the region had assembled for
+the raising. Nor was Pleasantville unprepared to make immediate use of
+the jail, since the sheriff had in custody a free negro who had knifed
+another free negro and was awaiting trial at the next term of court.
+
+"We don't want to get there too early," explained the judge, as they
+quitted the cabin. "We want to miss the work, but be on hand for the
+celebration."
+
+"I suppose we may confidently look to you to favor us with a few
+eloquent words?" said Mr. Mahaffy.
+
+"And why not, Solomon?" asked the judge.
+
+"Why not, indeed!" echoed Mr. Mahaffy.
+
+The opportunity he craved was not denied him. The crowd was like most
+southwestern crowds of the period, and no sooner did the judge appear
+than there were clamorous demands for a speech. He cast a glance of
+triumph at Mahaffy, and nimbly mounted a convenient stump. He extolled
+the climate of middle Tennessee, the unsurpassed fertility of the soil;
+he touched on the future that awaited Pleasantville; he apostrophized
+the jail; this simple structure of logs in the shadow of the primeval
+woods was significant of their love of justice and order; it was a
+suitable place for the detention of a citizen of a great republic; it
+was no mediaeval dungeon, but a forest-embowered retreat where, barring
+mosquitoes and malaria, the party under restraint would be put to no
+needless hardship; he would have the occasional companionship of the
+gentlemanly sheriff; his friends, with such wise and proper restrictions
+as the law saw fit to impose, could come and impart the news of the day
+to him through the chinks of the logs.
+
+"I understand you have dealt in a hasty fashion with one or two
+horse-thieves," he continued. "Also with a gambler who was put ashore
+here from a river packet and subsequently became involved in a dispute
+with a late citizen of this place touching the number of aces in a pack
+of cards. It is not for me to criticize! What I may term the spontaneous
+love of justice is the brightest heritage of a free people. It is this
+same commendable ability to acquit ourselves of our obligations that is
+making us the wonder of the world! But don't let us forget the law--of
+which it is an axiom, that it is not the severity of punishment, but the
+certainty of it, that holds the wrong-doer in check! With this safe
+and commodious asylum the plow line can remain the exclusive aid to
+agriculture. If a man murders, curb your natural impulse! Give him
+a fair trial, with eminent counsel!" The judge tried not to look
+self-conscious when he said this. "If he is found guilty, I still say,
+don't lynch him! Why? Because by your hasty act you deny the public
+the elevating and improving spectacle of a legal execution!" When the
+applause had died out, a lank countryman craning his neck for a sight of
+the sheriff, bawled out over the heads of the crowd:
+
+"Where's your nigger? We want to put him in here!"
+
+"I reckon he's gone fishin'. I never seen the beat of that nigger to go
+fishin'," said the sheriff.
+
+"Whoop! Ain't you goin' to put him in here?" yelled the countryman.
+
+"It's a mighty lonely spot for a nigger," said the sheriff doubtingly.
+
+"Lonely? Well, suppose he ups and lopes out of this?"
+
+"You don't know that nigger," rejoined the sheriff warmly. "He ain't
+missed a meal since I had him in custody. Just as regular as the clock
+strikes he's at the back door. Good habits--why, that darky is a lesson
+to most white folks!"
+
+"I don't care a cuss about that nigger, but what's the use of building a
+jail if a body ain't goin' to use it?"
+
+"Well, there's some sense in that," agreed the sheriff.
+
+"There's a whole heap of sense in it!"
+
+"I suggest"--the speaker was a young lawyer from the next county--"I
+suggest that a committee be appointed to wait on the nigger at
+the steamboat landing and acquaint him with the fact that with his
+assistance we wish completely to furnish the jail."
+
+"I protest--" cried the judge. "I protest--" he repeated vigorously.
+"Pride of race forbids that I should be a party to the degradation of
+the best of civilization! Is your jail to be christened to its high
+office by a nigger? Is this to be the law's apotheosis? No, sir! No
+nigger is worthy the honor of being the first prisoner here!" This was
+a new and striking idea. The crowd regarded the judge admiringly.
+Certainly here was a man of refined feeling.
+
+"That's just the way I feel about it," said the sheriff. "If I'd
+athought there was any call for him I wouldn't have let him go fishing,
+I'd have kept him about."
+
+"Oh, let the nigger fish--he has powerful luck. What's he usin',
+Sheriff; worms or minnies?"
+
+"Worms," said the sheriff shortly.
+
+Presently the crowd drifted away in the direction of the tavern.
+Hannibal meantime had gone down to the river. He haunted its banks as
+though he expected to see his Uncle Bob appear any moment. The judge and
+Mahaffy had mingled with the others in the hope of free drinks, but in
+this hope there lurked the germ of a bitter disappointment. There was
+plenty of drinking, but they were not invited to join in this pleasing
+rite, and after a period of great mental anguish Mahaffy parted with
+the last stray coin in the pocket of his respectable black trousers, and
+while his flask was being filled the judge indulged in certain winsome
+gallantries with the fat landlady.
+
+"La, Judge Price, how you do run on!" she said with a coquettish toss of
+her curls.
+
+"That's the charm of you, ma'am," said the judge. He leaned across
+the bar and, sinking his voice to a husky whisper, asked, "Would it be
+perfectly convenient for you to extend me a limited credit?"
+
+"Now, Judge Price, you know a heap better than to ask me that!" she
+answered, shaking her head.
+
+"No offense, ma'am," said the judge, hiding his disappointment, and with
+Mahaffy he quitted the bar.
+
+"Why don't you marry the old girl? You could drink yourself to death in
+six months," said Mahaffy. "That would be a speculation worth while--and
+while you live you could fondle those curls!"
+
+"Maybe I'll be forced to it yet," responded the judge with gloomy
+pessimism.
+
+With the filling of Mahaffy's flask the important event of the day
+was past, and both knew it was likely to retain its preeminence for a
+terrible and indefinite period; a thought that enriched their thirst
+as it increased their gravity while they were traversing the stretch of
+dusty road that lay between the cavern and the judge's shanty. When they
+had settled themselves in their chairs before the door, Mahaffy, who was
+notably jealous of his privileges, drew the cork from the flask and
+took the first pull at its contents. The judge counted the swallows
+as registered by that useful portion of Mahaffy's anatomy known as his
+Adam's apple. After a breathless interval, Mahaffy detached himself
+from the flask and civilly passing the cuff of his coat about its neck,
+handed it over to the judge. In the unbroken silence that succeeded the
+flask passed swiftly from hand to hand, at length Mahaffy held it up to
+the light. It was two-thirds empty, and a sigh stole from between his
+thin lips. The judge reached out a tremulous hand. He was only too
+familiar with his friend's distressing peculiarities.
+
+"Not yet!" he begged thickly.
+
+"Why not?" demanded Mahaffy fiercely. "Is it your liquor or mine?" He
+quitted his chair end stalked to the well where he filled the flask with
+water. Infinitely disgusted, the judge watched the sacrilege. Mahaffy
+resumed his chair and again the flask went its rounds.
+
+"It ain't so bad," said the judge after a time, but with a noticeable
+lack of enthusiasm.
+
+"Were you in shape to put anything better than water into it, Mr.
+Price?" The judge winced. He always winced at that "Mr."
+
+"Well, I wouldn't serve myself such a trick as that," he said with
+decision. "When I take liquor, it's one thing; and when I want water,
+it's another."
+
+"It is, indeed," agreed Mahaffy.
+
+"I drink as much clear water as is good for a man of my constitution,"
+said the judge combatively. "My talents are wasted here," he resumed,
+after a little pause. "I've brought them the blessings of the law, but
+what does it signify!"
+
+"Why did you ever come here?" Mahaffy spoke sharply.
+
+"I might ask the same question of you, and in the same offensive tone,"
+said the judge.
+
+"May I ask, not wishing to take a liberty, were you always the same old
+pauper you've been since I've known you?" inquired Mahaffy. The judge
+maintained a stony silence.
+
+The heat deepened in the heart of the afternoon. The sun, a ball of
+fire, slipped back of the tree-tops. Thick shadows stole across the
+stretch of dusty road. Off in the distance there was the sound of
+cowbell. Slowly these came nearer and nearer--as the golden light
+slanted, sifting deeper and deeper into the woods.
+
+They could see the crowd that came and went about the tavern, they
+caught the distant echo of its mirth.
+
+"Common--quite common," said the judge with somber melancholy.
+
+"I didn't see anything common," said Mahaffy sourly. "The drinks weren't
+common by a long sight."
+
+"I referred to the gathering in its social aspect, Solomon," explained
+the judge; "the illiberal spirit that prevailed, which, I observe, did
+not escape you."
+
+"Skunks!" said Mahaffy.
+
+"Not a man present had the public spirit to set 'em up," lamented the
+judge. "They drank in pairs, and I'd blistered my throat at their damn
+jail-raising! What sort of a fizzle would it have been if I hadn't been
+on hand to impart distinction to the occasion?"
+
+"I don't begrudge 'em their liquor," said Mahaffy with acid dignity.
+
+"I do," interrupted the judge. "I hope it's poison to 'em.
+
+"It will be in the long run, if it's any comfort to you to know it."
+
+"It's no comfort, it's not near quick enough," said the judge
+relentlessly. The sudden noisy clamor of many voices, highpitched and
+excited, floated out to them under the hot sky. "I wonder--" began the
+judge, and paused as he saw the crowd stream into the road before the
+tavern. Then a cloud of dust enveloped it, a cloud of dust that came
+from the trampling of many pairs of feet, and that swept toward them,
+thick and impenetrable, and no higher than a tall man's head in the
+lifeless air. "I wonder if we missed anything," continued the judge,
+finishing what he had started to say.
+
+The score or more of men were quite near, and the judge and Mahaffy made
+out the tall figure of the sheriff in the lead. And then the crowd, very
+excited, very dusty, very noisy and very hot, flowed into the judge's
+front yard. For a brief moment that gentleman fancied Pleasantville had
+awakened to a fitting sense of its obligation to him and that it was
+about to make amends for its churlish lack of hospitality. He rose from
+his chair, and with a splendid florid gesture, swept off his hat.
+
+"It's the pussy fellow!" cried a voice.
+
+"Oh, shut up--don't you think I know him?" retorted the sheriff tartly.
+
+"Gentlemen--" began the judge blandly.
+
+"Get the well-rope!"
+
+The judge was rather at loss properly to interpret these varied remarks.
+He was not long left in doubt. The sheriff stepped to his side and
+dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Mr. Slocum Price, or whatever your name is, your little game is up!"
+
+"Get the well-rope! Oh, hell--won't some one get the well-rope?" The
+voice rose into a wail of entreaty.
+
+The judge's eyes, rather startled, slid around in their sockets. 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. This was something like--it had a taste
+for the man-hunt! The sheriff snatched away the rope and dealt the
+officious gentleman a savage blow on the chin that sent him staggering
+backward into the arms of his friends.
+
+"Now, see here, now--I'm going to arrest this old faller! I am going to
+put him in jail, and I ain't going to have no nonsense--do you hear me?"
+he expostulated.
+
+"I can explain--" cried the judge.
+
+"Make him give me my money!" wailed Mrs Walker.
+
+"Jezebel!" roared the judge, in a passion of rage.
+
+"Ca'm's the word, or you'll get 'em started!" whispered the sheriff.
+The judge looked fearfully around. At his side stood Mahaffy, a yellow
+pallor splotching his thin cheeks. He seemed to be holding himself there
+by an effort.
+
+"Speak to them, Solomon--speak to them--you know how I came by the
+money! Speak to them--you know I am innocent!" cried the judge,
+clutching his friend by the arm. Mahaffy opened his thin lips, but the
+crowd drowned his voice in a roar.
+
+"He's his partner--"
+
+"There's no evidence against him," said the sheriff.
+
+A tall fellow, in a fringed hunting-shirt, shook a long finger under
+Mahaffy's aquiline nose.
+
+"You scoot--that's what--you make tracks! And if we ever see your ugly
+face about here again, we'll--"
+
+"You'll what?" inquired Mahaffy.
+
+"We'll fix you out with feathers that won't molt, that's what!"
+
+Mr. Mahaffy seemed to hesitate. His lean hands opened and closed, and he
+met the eyes of the crowd with a bitter, venomous stare. Some one gave
+him a shove and he staggered forward a step, snapping out a curse.
+Before he could recover himself the shove was repeated.
+
+"Lope on out of here!" yelled the tall fellow, who had first challenged
+his right to remain in Pleasantville or its environs. As the crowd fell
+apart to make way for him, willing hands were extended to give him the
+needed impetus, and without special volition of his own.
+
+Mahaffy was hurried toward the road. His hat was knocked flat on his
+head--he turned with an angry snarl, the very embodiment of hate--but
+again he was thrust forward. And then, somehow, his walk became a run
+and the crowd started after him with delighted whoopings. Once more,
+and for the last time, he faced about, giving the judge a hopeless,
+despairing glance. His tormentors were snatching up sods and stones and
+he had no choice. He turned, his long strides taking him swiftly over
+the ground, with the air full of missiles at his back.
+
+Before he had gone a hundred yards he abandoned the road and, turning
+off across an unfenced field, ran toward the woods and swampy bottom.
+Twenty men were in chase behind him. The judge was the sheriff's
+prisoner--that official had settled that point--but Mr. Mahaffy was
+common property, it was his cruel privilege to furnish excitement; his
+keen rage was almost equal to the fear that urged him on. Then the woods
+closed about him. His long legs, working tirelessly, carried him over
+fallen logs and through tall tangled thickets, the voices behind him
+growing more and more distant as he ran.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. THE FAMILY ON THE RAFT
+
+
+That would unquestionably have been the end of Bob Yancy when he was
+shot out into the muddy waters of the Elk River, had not Mr.
+Richard Keppel Cavendish, variously known as Long-Legged Dick,
+and Chills-and-Fever Cavendish, of Lincoln County, in the state of
+Tennessee, some months previously and after unprecedented mental effort
+on his part, decided that Lincoln County was no place for him. When
+he had established this idea firmly in his own mind and in the mind of
+Polly, his wife, he set about solving the problem of transportation.
+
+Mr. Cavendish's paternal grandparent had drifted down the Holston and
+Tennessee; and Mr. Cavendish's father, in his son's youth, had poled
+up the Elk. Mr. Cavendish now determined to float down the Elk to its
+juncture with the Tennessee, down the Tennessee to the Ohio, and if need
+be, down the Ohio to the Mississippi, and keep drifting until he found
+some spot exactly suited to his taste. Temperamentally, he was well
+adapted to drifting. No conception of vicarious activity could have been
+more congenial.
+
+With this end in view he had toiled through late winter and early
+spring, building himself a raft on which to transport his few belongings
+and his numerous family; there were six little Cavendishes, and they
+ranged in years from four to eleven; there was in addition the baby, who
+was always enumerated separately. This particular infant Mr. Cavendish
+said he wouldn't take a million dollars for. He usually added feelingly
+that he wouldn't give a piece of chalk for another one.
+
+June found him aboard his raft with all his earthly possessions bestowed
+about him, awaiting the rains and freshets that were to waft him
+effortless into a newer country where he should have a white man's
+chance. At last the rains came, and he cast off from the bank at that
+unsalubrious spot where his father had elected to build his cabin on a
+strip of level bottom subject to periodic inundation. Wishing fully to
+profit by the floods and reach the big water without delay, Cavendish
+ran the raft twenty-four hours at a stretch, sleeping by day while Polly
+managed the great sweep, only calling him when some dangerous bit of the
+river was to be navigated. Thus it happened that as Murrell and Slosson
+were dragging Yancy down the lane, Cavendish was just rounding a bend in
+the Elk, a quarter of a mile distant. Leaning loosely against the long
+handle of his sweep, he was watching the lane of bright water that ran
+between the black shadows cast by the trees on either bank. He was in
+shirt and trousers, barefoot and bareheaded, and his face, mild and
+contemplative, wore an expression of dreamy contentment.
+
+Suddenly its expression changed. He became alert and watchful. He had
+heard a dull splash. Thinking that some tree had been swept into the
+flood, he sought to pierce the darkness that lay along the shore. Five
+or six minutes passed as the raft glided along without sound. He was
+about to relapse into his former attitude of listless ease when he
+caught sight of some object in the eddy that swept alongside. Mr.
+Cavendish promptly detached himself from the handle of the sweep and ran
+to the edge of the raft.
+
+"Good Lord--what's that!" he gasped, but he already knew it was a face,
+livid and blood-streaked. Dropping on his knees he reached out a pair
+of long arms and made a dexterous grab, and his fingers closed on the
+collar of Yancy's shirt. "Neighbor, I certainly have got you!" said
+Cavendish, between his teeth. He drew Yancy close alongside the raft,
+and, slipping a hand under each arm, pulled him clear of the water. The
+swift current swept the raft on down the stream. It rode fairly in the
+center of the lane of light, but no eye had observed its passing. Mr.
+Cavendish stood erect and stared down at the blood-stained face, then he
+dropped on his knees again and began a hurried examination of the still
+figure. "There's a little life here--not much, but some--you was well
+worth fishing up!" he said approvingly, after a brief interval. "Polly!"
+he called, raising his voice.
+
+This brought Mrs. Cavendish from one of the two cabins that occupied the
+center of the raft. She was a young woman, still very comely, though
+of a matronly plumpness. She was in her nightgown, and when she caught
+sight of Yancy she uttered a shriek and fled back into the shanty.
+
+"I declare, Dick, you might ha' told a body you wa'n't alone!" she said
+reproachfully.
+
+Her cry had aroused the other denizens of the raft. The tow heads of the
+six little Cavendishes rose promptly from a long bolster in the smaller
+of the two shanties, and as promptly six little Cavendishes, each draped
+in a single non-committal garment, apparently cut by one pattern and not
+at all according to the wearer's years or length of limb, tumbled forth
+from their shelter.
+
+"Sho', Polly, he's senseless! But you dress and come here quick. Now,
+you young folks, don't you tetch him!" for the six small Cavendishes,
+excited beyond measure, were crowding and shoving for a nearer sight of
+Yancy. They began to pelt their father with questions. Who was it? Sho',
+in the river? Sho', all cut up like that--who'd cut him? Had he hurt
+himself? Was he throwed in? When did pop fish him out? Was he dead? Why
+did he lay like that and not move or speak--sho'! This and much more
+was flung at Mr. Cavendish all in one breath, and each eager questioner
+seized him by the hand, the dangling sleeve of his shirt, or his
+trousers--they clutched him from all sides. "I never seen such a
+family!" said Mr. Cavendish helplessly. "Now, you-all shut up, or I 'low
+I'll lay into you!"
+
+Mrs. Cavendish's appearance created a diversion in his favor. The six
+rushed on her tumultously. They seized her hands or struggled for a
+fragment of her skirt to hold while they poured out their tale. Pop had
+fished up a man--he'd been throwed in the river! Pop didn't know if he
+was dead or not--he was all cut and bloody.
+
+"I declare, I've a mind to skin you if you don't keep still! Miss
+Constance," Polly addressed her eldest child, "I'm surprised at you! You
+might be a heathen savage for all you got on your back--get into some
+duds this instant!" Cavendish was on his knees again beside Yancy, and
+Polly, by a determined effort, rid herself of the children. "Why, he's a
+grand-looking man, ain't he?" she cried. "La, what a pity!"
+
+"You can feel his heart beat, and he's bleeding some," said Cavendish.
+
+"Let me see--just barely flutters, don't it? Henry, go mind the sweep
+and see we don't get aground! Keppel, you start a fire and warm some
+water! Connie, you tear up my other petticoat for bandages now, stir
+around, all of you!" And then began a period of breathless activity.
+They first lifted Yancy into the circle of illumination cast by the fire
+Keppel had started on the hearth of flat stones before the shanties.
+Then, with Constance to hold a pan of warm water, Mrs. Cavendish deftly
+bathed the gaping wound in Yancy's shoulder where Murrell had driven his
+knife. This she bandaged with strips torn from her petticoat. Next she
+began on the ragged cut left by Slosson's club.
+
+"He's got a right to be dead!" said Cavendish.
+
+"Get the shears, Dick--I must snip away some of his hair."
+
+All this while the four half-naked youngest Cavendishes, very still
+now, stood about the stone hearth in the chill dawn and watched their
+mother's surgery with a breathless interest. Only the outcast Henry at
+the sweep ever and anon lifted his voice between sobs of mingled rage
+and disappointment, and demanded what was doing.
+
+"Think he is going to die, Polly?" whispered Cavendish at length. Their
+heads, hers very black and glossy, his very blond, were close together
+as they bent above the injured man.
+
+"I never say a body's going to die until he's dead," said Polly. "He's
+still breathing, and a Christian has got to do what they can. Don't you
+think you ought to tie up?"
+
+"The freshet's leaving us. I'll run until we hit the big water down by
+Pleasantville, and then tie up," said Cavendish.
+
+"I reckon we'd better lift him on to one of the beds--get his wet
+clothes off and wrap him up warm," said Polly.
+
+"Oh, put him in our bed!" cried all the little Cavendishes.
+
+And Yancy was borne into the smaller of the two shanties, where
+presently his bandaged head rested on the long communal pillow. Then his
+wet clothes were hung up to dry along with a portion of the family wash
+which fluttered on a rope stretched between the two shanties.
+
+The raft had all the appearance of a cabin dooryard. There was, in
+addition to the two shelters of bark built over a light framework of
+poles, a pen which housed a highly domestic family of pigs, while half a
+dozen chickens enjoyed a restricted liberty. With Yancy disposed of,
+the regular family life was resumed. It was sun-up now. The little
+Cavendishes, reluctant but overpersuaded, had their faces washed
+alongside and were dressed by Connie, while Mrs. Cavendish performed
+the same offices for the baby. Then there was breakfast, from which
+Mr. Cavendish rose yawning to go to bed, where, before dropping off to
+sleep, he played with the baby. This left Mrs. Cavendish in full command
+of her floating dooryard. She smoked a reflective pipe, watching the
+river between puffs, and occasionally lending a hand at the sweeps.
+Later the family wash engaged her. It had neither beginning nor end, but
+serialized itself from day to day. Connie was already proficient at the
+tubs. It was a knack she was in no danger of losing.
+
+Keppel and Henry took turns at the sweeps, while the three smaller
+children began to manifest a love for the water they had not seemed
+to possess earlier in the day. They played along the edge of the raft,
+always in imminent danger of falling in, always being called back, or
+seized, just in time to prevent a catastrophe. This ceaseless activity
+on their part earned them much in the way of cuffings, chastisements
+which Mrs. Cavendish administered with no great spirit.
+
+"Drat you, why don't you go look at the pore gentleman instead of
+posterin' a body 'most to death!" she demanded at length, and they stole
+off on tiptoe to stare at Yancy. Presently Richard ran to his mother's
+side.
+
+"Come quick--he's mutterin' and mumblin' and moving his head!" he cried.
+It was as the child said. Yancy had roused from his heavy stupor. Words
+almost inaudible and quite inarticulate were issuing from his lips and
+there was a restless movement of his head on the pillow.
+
+"He 'pears powerful distressed about something," said Mrs. Cavendish. "I
+reckon I'd better give him a little stimulant now."
+
+While she was gone for the whisky, Connie, who had squatted down beside
+the bed, touched Yancy's hand which lay open. Instantly his fingers
+closed about hers and he was silent; the movement of his head ceased
+abruptly; but when she sought to withdraw her hand he began to murmur
+again.
+
+"I declare, what he wants is some one to sit beside him!" said Mrs.
+Cavendish, who had returned with the whisky, a few drops of which she
+managed to force between Yancy's lips. All the rest of that day some one
+of the children sat beside the wounded man, who was quiet and satisfied
+just as long as there was a small hand for him to hold.
+
+"He must be a family man," observed Mr. Cavendish when Polly told him of
+this. "We'll tie up at Pleasantville landing and learn who he is."
+
+"He had ought to have a doctor to look at them cuts of his," said Mrs.
+Cavendish.
+
+It was late afternoon when the landing was reached. Half a score of men
+were loafing about the woodyard on shore. Mr. Cavendish made fast to
+a blasted tree, then he climbed the bank; the men regarding him
+incuriously as he approached.
+
+"Howdy," said Cavendish genially.
+
+"Howdy," they answered.
+
+"Where might I find the nearest doctor?" inquired Cavendish.
+
+"Within about six foot of you," said one of the group.
+
+"Meaning yourself?"
+
+"Meaning myself."
+
+Briefly Cavendish told the story of Yancy's rescue.
+
+"Now, Doc, I want you should cast an eye over the way we've dressed his
+cuts, and I want the rest of you to come and take a look at him and tell
+who he is and where he belongs," he said in conclusion.
+
+"I'll know him if he belongs within forty miles of here in any
+direction," said the doctor. But he shook his head when his eye rested
+on Yancy. "Never saw him," he said briefly.
+
+"How about them bandages, Doc?" demanded Cavendish.
+
+"Oh, I reckon they'll do," replied the doctor indifferently.
+
+"Will he live?"
+
+"I can't say. You'll know all about that inside the next forty-eight
+hours. Better let the rest have a look."
+
+"Just feel of them bandages--sho', I got money in my pants!" Mr.
+Cavendish was rapidly losing his temper, yet he controlled himself until
+each man had taken a look at Yancy; but always with the same result--a
+shake of the head. "I reckon I can leave him here?" Cavendish asked,
+when the last man had looked and turned away.
+
+"Leave him here--why?" demanded the doctor slowly.
+
+"Because I'm going on, that's why. I'm headed for downstream, and he
+ain't in any sort of shape to say whether he wants to go or stop,"
+explained Cavendish.
+
+"You picked him up, didn't you?" asked one of the men.
+
+"I certainly did," said Cavendish.
+
+"Well, I reckon if you're so anxious for him to stay hereabout, you'd
+better stop, yourself," said the owner of the woodyard. "There ain't a
+house within two miles of here but mine, and he don't go there!"
+
+"You're a healthy lot, you are!" said Cavendish. "I wonder your
+largeness of heart ain't ruptured your wishbones long ago!" So saying,
+he retired to the stern of his raft and leaned against the sweep-handle,
+apparently lost in thought. His visitors climbed the bank and
+reestablished themselves on the wood-ranks.
+
+Presently Mr. Cavendish lifted his voice and addressed Polly and the six
+little Cavendishes at the other end of the raft. He asserted that he was
+the only well-born man within a radius of perhaps a hundred miles--he
+excepted no one. He knew who his father and mother were, and they had
+been legally married--he seemed to infer that this was not always the
+case. Mr. Cavendish glanced toward the shore, then he lifted his voice
+again, giving it as his opinion that he was the only Christian seen in
+those parts in the last fifty years. He offered to fight any gentleman
+who felt disposed to challenge this assertion. He sprang suddenly aloft,
+knocked his bare heels together and uttered an ear-piercing whoop. He
+subsided and gazed off into the red eye of the sun which was slipping
+back of the trees. Presently he spoke again. He offered to lick any
+gentleman who felt aggrieved by his previous remarks, for fifty cents,
+for a drink of whisky, for a chew of tobacco, for nothing--with one hand
+tied behind him! He sprang aloft, cracked his heels together as before
+and crowed insultingly; then he subsided into silence. An instant later
+he appeared stung by the acutest pangs of remorse. In a cringing tone
+he begged Polly to forgive him for bringing her to such a place. He
+bewailed that they had risked pollution by allowing any inhabitant of
+that region to set foot on the raft--he feared for the innocent minds of
+their children, and he implored her pardon. Perhaps it was better that
+they should cast off at once--unless one of the gentlemen on shore felt
+himself insulted, in which event he would remain to fight.
+
+Then as he slowly worked the raft out toward the middle of the stream,
+he repeated all his former remarks, punctuating them with frequent
+whoops. He recapitulated the terms on which he could be induced to
+fight-fifty cents, a drink of liquor, a chew of tobacco, nothing! His
+shouts became fainter and fainter as the raft was swept down-stream, and
+finally died away in the distance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. THE JUDGE BREAKS JAIL
+
+
+The sheriff had brought the judge's supper. He reported that the
+crowd was dispersing, and that on the whole public sentiment was not
+particularly hostile; indeed, he went so far as to say there existed
+a strong undercurrent of satisfaction that the jail should have so
+speedily justified itself. Moreover, there was a disposition to exalt
+the judge as having furnished the crowning touch to the day's pleasure.
+
+"I reckon, sir, they'd have felt obliged to string you up if there
+wa'n't no jail," continued the sheriff lazily from the open door where
+he had seated himself. "I don't say there ain't them who don't maintain
+you had ought to be strung up as it is, but people are funny, sir; the
+majority talk like they might wish to keep you here indefinite. There's
+no telling when we'll get another prisoner. Tomorrow the blacksmith will
+fix some iron bars to your window so folks can look in and see you. It
+will give a heap more air to the place--"
+
+"Unless I do get more air, you will not be troubled long by me!"
+declared the judge in a tone of melancholy conviction.
+
+The building was intolerably hot, the advantages of ventilation having
+been a thing the citizens of Pleasantville had overlooked. But the judge
+was a reasonable soul; he was disposed to accept his immediate personal
+discomfort with a fine true philosophy; also, hope was stirring in his
+heart. Hope was second nature with him, for had he not lived all these
+years with the odds against him?
+
+"You do sweat some, don't you? Oh, well, a man can stand a right
+smart suffering from heat like this and not die. It's the sun that's
+dangerous," remarked the sheriff consolingly. "And you had ought to
+suffer, sir! that's what folks are sent to jail for," he added.
+
+"You will kindly bear in mind, sir, that I have been convicted of no
+crime!" retorted the judge.
+
+"If you hadn't been so blamed particular you might have had company;
+politest darky you would meet anywhere. Well, sir, I didn't think the
+boss orator of the day would be the first prisoner--the joke certainly
+is on you!"
+
+"I never saw such bloody-minded ruffians! Keep them out and keep me
+in--all I ask is to vindicate myself in the eyes of the world," said the
+judge.
+
+"Well," began the sheriff severely, "ain't it enough to make 'em
+bloody-minded? Any one of 'em might have taken your money and got stuck.
+Just to think of that is what hets them up." He regarded the judge with
+a glance of displeasure. "I hate to see a man so durn unreasonable in
+his p'int of view. And you picked a lady--a widow-lady--say, ain't you
+ashamed?"
+
+"Well, sir, what's going to happen to me?" demanded the judge angrily.
+
+"I reckon you'll be tried. I reckon the law will deal with you--that is,
+if the public remains ca'm. Maybe it will come to the conclusion that
+it'd prefer a lynching--people are funny." He seemed to detach himself
+from the possible current of events.
+
+"And, waking and sleeping, I have that before me!" cried the judge
+bitterly.
+
+"You had ought to have thought of that sooner, when you was unloading
+that money. Why, it ain't even good counterfeit! I wonder a man of your
+years wa'n't slicker."
+
+"Have you taken steps to find the boy, or Solomon Mahaffy?" inquired the
+judge.
+
+"For what?"
+
+"How is my innocence going to be established--how am I going to clear
+myself if my witnesses are hounded out of the county?"
+
+"I love to hear you talk, sir. I told 'em at the raising to-day that
+I considered you one of the most eloquent minds I had ever listened
+to--but naturally, sir, you are too smart to be honest. You say you
+ain't been convicted yet; but you're going to be! There's quite a
+scramble for places on the jury already. There was pistols drawed up at
+the tavern by some of our best people, sir, who got het up disputin' who
+was eligible to serve." The judge groaned. "You should be thankful them
+pistols wasn't drawed on you, sir," said the sheriff amiably. "You've
+got a heap to be grateful about; for we've had one lynching, and we've
+rid one or two parties on a rail after giving 'em a coat of tar and
+feathers."
+
+The judge shuddered. The sheriff continued placidly:
+
+"I'll take it you'll get all that's coming to you, sir, say about twenty
+years--that had ought to let you out easy. Sort of round out your
+earthly career, and leave something due you t'other side of Jordan."
+
+"I suppose there is no use in my pointing out to you that I did not
+know the money was counterfeit, and that I was quite innocent of
+any intention to defraud Mrs. Walker?" said the judge, with a weary,
+exasperated air.
+
+"It don't make no difference where you got the money; you know that, for
+you set up to be some sort of a lawyer."
+
+Presently the sheriff went his way into the dusk of the evening, and
+night came swiftly to fellowship the judge's fears. A single moonbeam
+found its way into the place, making a thin rift in the darkness. The
+judge sat down on the three-legged stool, which, with a shake-down
+bed, furnished the jail. His loneliness was a great wave of misery that
+engulfed him.
+
+"Well, just so my life ain't cut short!" he whispered.
+
+He had known a varied career, and what he was pleased to call his
+unparalleled misfortunes had reduced him to all kinds of desperate
+shifts to live, but never before had the law laid its hands on him.
+True, there had been times and seasons when he had been grateful for the
+gloom of the dark ways he trod, for echoes had taken the place of the
+living voice that had once spoken to his soul; but he could still rest
+his hand upon his heart and say that the law had always nodded to him to
+pass on.
+
+Where was Solomon Mahaffy, and where Hannibal? He felt that Mahaffy
+could fend for himself, but he experienced a moment of genuine concern
+when he thought of the child. In spite of himself, his thoughts returned
+to him again and again. But surely some one would shelter and care for
+him!
+
+"Yes--and work him like a horse, and probably abuse him into the
+bargain--"
+
+Then there was a scarcely audible rustle on the margin of the woods, a
+dry branch snapped loudly. A little pause succeeded in which the judge's
+heart stood still. Next a stealthy step sounded in the clearing. The
+judge had an agonized vision of regulators and lynchers. The beat of his
+pulse quickened. He knew something of the boisterous horseplay of the
+frontier. The sheriff had spoken of tar and feathers--very quietly he
+stood erect and picked up the stool.
+
+"Heaven helping me, I'll brain a citizen or two before it comes to
+that!" he told himself.
+
+The cautious steps continued to approach. Some one paused below the
+closely shuttered window, and a hand struck the boards sharply. A
+whisper stole into the jail.
+
+"Are you awake, Price?" It was Mahaffy who spoke.
+
+"God bless you, Solomon Mahaffy!" cried the judge unsteadily.
+
+"I've got the boy--he's with me," said Mahaffy.
+
+"God bless you both!" repeated the judge brokenly. "Take care of him,
+Solomon. I feel better now, knowing he's in good hands."
+
+"Please, Judge--" it was Hannibal
+
+"Yes, dear lad?"
+
+"I'm mighty sorry that ten dollars I loaned you was bad--but you don't
+need ever to pay it back!"
+
+Mahaffy gave way to mirth.
+
+"Never mind!" said the judge indulgently. "It performed all the
+essential functions of a perfectly legal currency. Just suppose we had
+discovered it was counterfeit before I took it to the tavern--that would
+have been a hardship!"
+
+"It were Captain Murrell gave it to me," explained Hannibal.
+
+"I consecrate myself to his destruction! Judge Slocum Price can not be
+humiliated with impunity!"
+
+"I should think you would save your wind, Price, until you'd waddled out
+of danger!" Mahaffy spoke, gruffly.
+
+"How are you going to get me out of this, Solomon--for I suppose you are
+here to break jail for me," said the judge.
+
+Mahaffy inspected the building. He found that the door was secured by
+two ponderous hasps to which were fitted heavy padlocks, but the solid
+wooden shutter which closed the square hole in the gable that served as
+a window was fastened by a hasp and peg. He withdrew the peg, opened
+the shutter, and the judge's face, wreathed in smiles, appeared at the
+aperture.
+
+"The blessed sky and air!" he murmured, breathing deep. "A week of this
+would have broken my spirit!"
+
+"If you can, Price, you'd better come feet first," suggested Mahaffy.
+
+"Not sufficiently acrobatic, Solomon--it's heads or I lose!" said the
+judge.
+
+He thrust his shoulders into the opening and wriggled outward. Suddenly
+his forward movement was arrested.
+
+"I was afraid of that!" he said, with a rather piteous smile. "It's
+my stomach, Solomon!" Mahaffy seized him by the shoulders with lean
+muscular hands. "Pull!" cried the judge hoarsely. But Mahaffy's vigorous
+efforts failed to move him.
+
+"I guess you're stuck, Price!"
+
+"Get your wind, Solomon," urged the judge, "and then, if Hannibal will
+reach up and work about my middle with his knuckles while you pull, I
+may get through." But even this expedient failed.
+
+"Do you reckon you can get me back? I should not care to spend the night
+so!" said the judge. He was purple and panting.
+
+"Let's try you edgewise!" And Mahaffy pushed the judge into the jail
+again.
+
+"No," said the judge, after another period of resolute effort on his
+part and on the part of Mahaffy. "Providence has been kind to me in
+the past, but it's clear she didn't have me in mind when they cut this
+hole."
+
+"Well, Price, I guess all we can do is to go back to town and see if I
+can get into my cabin--I've got an old saw there. If I can find it,
+I can come again to-morrow night and cut away one of the logs, or the
+cleats of the door."
+
+"In Heaven's name, do that to-night, Solomon!" implored the judge. "Why
+procrastinate?"
+
+"Price, there's a pack of dogs in this neighborhood, and we must have
+a full night to move in, or they'll pull us down before we've gone ten
+miles!"
+
+The judge groaned.
+
+"You're right, Solomon; I'd forgotten the dogs," and he groaned again.
+
+Mahaffy closed and fastened the shutter, then he and Hannibal stole
+across the clearing and entered the woods. The judge flung off his
+clothes and went to bed, determined to sleep away as many hours as
+possible. He was only aroused by the arrival of his breakfast, which the
+sheriff brought about eight o'clock.
+
+"Well, if I was in your boots I couldn't sleep like you!" remarked that
+official admiringly. "But I reckon, sir, this ain't the first time the
+penitentiary has stared you in the face."
+
+"Then you reckon wrong," said the judge sententiously, as he hauled on
+his trousers.
+
+"No?--you needn't hurry none. I'll get them dishes when I fetch your
+dinner," he added, as he took his leave.
+
+A little later the blacksmith appeared and fitted three iron bars to the
+window.
+
+"I reckon that'll hold you, old feller!" he observed pleasantly.
+
+He was disposed to linger, since he was interested in the mechanical
+means employed in the making of counterfeit money and thirsted for
+knowledge at first hand. Also, he had in his possession a one-dollar
+bill which had come to him in the way of trade and which local experts
+had declared to be a spurious production. He passed it in between the
+bars and demanded the judge's opinion of it as though he were the first
+authority in the land. But he went no wiser than he came.
+
+It was nearing the noon hour when the judge's solitude was again
+invaded. He first heard the distant murmur of voices on the road and
+passed an uneasy and restless ten minutes, with his eye to a crack in
+the door. He was soothed and reassured, however, when at last he caught
+sight of the sheriff.
+
+"Well, judge, I got company for you," cried the sheriff cheerfully, as
+he threw open the door. "A hoss-thief!"
+
+He pushed into the building a man, hatless and coatless, with a pair
+of pale villainous eyes and a tobacco-stained chin. The judge viewed the
+new-comer with disfavor. As for the horse-thief, he gave his companion
+in misery a coldly critical stare, seated himself on the stool, and with
+quite a fierce air devoted all his energy to mastication. He neither
+altered his position nor changed his expression until he and the judge
+were alone, then, catching the judge's eye, he made what seemed a casual
+movement with his hand, the three fingers raised; but to the judge this
+clearly was without significance, and the horse-thief manifested no
+further interest where he was concerned. He did not even condescend to
+answer the one or two civil remarks the judge addressed to him.
+
+As the long afternoon wore itself away, the judge lived through the many
+stages of doubt and uncertainty, for suppose anything had happened to
+Mahaffy! When the sheriff came with his supper he asked him if he had
+seen or heard of his friend.
+
+"Judge, I reckon he's lopin' on yet. I never seen a man of his years
+run as well as he done--it was inspirin' how he got over the ground!"
+answered the sheriff. Then he attempted conversation with the
+horse-thief, but was savagely cursed for his pains. "Well, I don't envy
+you your company none, sir," he remarked as he took leave of the judge.
+
+Standing before the window, the judge watched the last vestige of light
+fade from the sky and the stars appear. Would Mahaffy come? The suspense
+was intolerable. It was possibly eight o'clock. He could not reasonably
+expect Mahaffy until nine or half past; to come earlier would be too
+great a risk. Suddenly out of the silence sounded a long-drawn whistle.
+Three times it was repeated. The horse-thief leaped to his feet.
+
+"Neighbor, that means me!" he cried.
+
+The moon was rising now, and by its light the judge saw a number of
+horsemen appear on the edge of the woods. They entered the clearing,
+picking their way among the stumps without haste or confusion. When
+quite close, five of the band dismounted; the rest continued on about
+the jail or cantered off toward the road. By this time the judge's teeth
+were chattering and he was dripping cold sweat at every pore. He
+prayed earnestly that they might hang the horsethief and spare him. The
+dismounted men took up a stick of timber that had been cut for the jail
+and not used.
+
+"Look out inside, there!" cried a voice, and the log was dashed against
+the door; once--twice--it rose and fell on the clapboards, and under
+those mighty thuds grew up a wide gap through which the moonlight
+streamed splendidly. The horse-thief stepped between the dangling cleats
+and vanished. The judge, armed with the stool, stood at bay.
+
+"What next?" a voice asked.
+
+"Get dry brush--these are green logs--we'll burn this jail!"
+
+"Hold on!" the judge recognized the horse-thief as the speaker. "There's
+an old party in there! No need to singe him!"
+
+"Friend?"
+
+"No, I tried him."
+
+The judge tossed away the stool. He understood now that these men were
+neither lynchers nor regulators. With a confident, not to say jaunty
+step, he emerged from the jail.
+
+"Your servant, gentlemen!" he said, lifting his hat.
+
+"Git!" said one of the men briefly, and the judge moved nimbly away
+toward the woods. He had gained its shelter when the jail began to glow
+redly.
+
+Now to find Solomon and the boy, and then to put the miles between
+himself and Pleasantville with all diligence. As he thought this, almost
+at his elbow Mahaffy and Hannibal rose from behind a fallen log. The
+Yankee motioned for silence and pointed west.
+
+"Yes," breathed the judge. He noted that Mahaffy had a heavy pack, and
+the boy his long rifle. For a mile or two they moved forward without
+speech, the boy in the lead; while at his heels strode Mahaffy, with the
+judge bringing up the rear.
+
+"How do you feel, Price?" asked Mahaffy at length, over his shoulder.
+
+"Like one come into a fortune! Those horse-thieves gave me a fine scare,
+but did me a good turn."
+
+Hannibal kept to the woods by a kind of instinct, and the two men
+yielded themselves to his guidance; but there was no speech between
+them. Mahaffy trod in the boy's steps, and the judge, puffing like an
+overworked engine, came close upon his heels. In this way they continued
+to advance for an hour or more, then the boy paused.
+
+"Go on!" commanded Mahaffy.
+
+"Do you 'low the judge can stand it?" asked Hannibal.
+
+"Bless you, lad!" panted the judge feelingly.
+
+"He's got to stand it--either that, or what do you suppose will happen
+to us if they start their dogs?" said Mahaffy.
+
+"Solomon's right--you are sure we are not going in a circle, Hannibal?"
+
+"Yes, I'm sure," said Hannibal. "Do you see that star? My Uncle Bob
+learned me how I was to watch that star when I wanted to keep going
+straight."
+
+There was another long interval of silence. Bit by bit the sky became
+overcast. Vague, fleecy rifts of clouds appeared in the heavens. A wind
+sprang up, murmuring about them, there came a distant roll of thunder,
+while along the horizon the lightning rushed in broken, jagged lines of
+fire. In the east there was a pale flush that showed the black, hurrying
+clouds the winds had summoned out of space.
+
+The booming thunder, first only the sullen menace of the approaching
+storm, rolled nearer and nearer, and the fierce light came in blinding
+sheets of flame. A ceaseless, pauseless murmur sprang up out of the
+distance, and the trees rocked with a mighty crashing of branches, while
+here and there a big drop of rain fell. Then the murmur swelled into a
+roar as the low clouds disgorged themselves. Drenched to the skin on the
+instant, the two men and the boy stumbled forward through the gray wake
+of the storm.
+
+"What's come of our trail now?" shouted the judge, but the sound of his
+voice was lost in the rush of the hurrying winds and the roar of the
+airy cascades that fell about them.
+
+An hour passed. There was light under the trees, faint, impalpable
+without visible cause, but they caught the first sparkle of the rain
+drops on leaf and branch; they saw the silvery rivulets coursing down
+the mossy trunks of old trees; last of all through a narrow rift in
+the clouds, the sun showed them its golden rim, and day broke in the
+steaming woods. With the sun, with a final rush of the hurrying wind, a
+final torrent, the storm spent itself, and there was only the drip from
+bough and leaf, or pearly opalescent points of moisture on the drenched
+black trunks of maple and oak; a sapphire sky, high arched, remote
+overhead; and the June day all about.
+
+"What's come of they trail now?" cried the judge again. "He'll be a good
+dog that follows it through, these woods!"
+
+They had paused on a thickly wooded hillside.
+
+"We've come eight or ten miles if we have come a rod, Price," said
+Mahaffy, "and I am in favor of lying by for the day. When it comes dark
+we can go on again."
+
+The judge readily acquiesced in this, and they presently found a dense
+thicket which they cautiously entered. Reaching the center of the
+tangled growth, they beat down the briers and bushes, or cut them away
+with their knives, until they had a little cleared space where they
+could build a fire. Then from the pack which Mahaffy carried, the
+rudiments of a simple but filling meal were produced.
+
+"Your parents took no chances when they named you Solomon!" said the
+judge approvingly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. BELLE PLAIN
+
+
+"Now, Tom," said Betty, with a bustling little air of excitement as she
+rose from the breakfast table that first morning at Belle Plain, "I am
+ready if you are. I want you to show me everything!"
+
+"I reckon you'll notice some changes," remarked Tom.
+
+He went from the room and down the hall a step or two in advance of her.
+On the wide porch Betty paused, breathing deep. The house stood on an
+eminence; directly before it at the bottom of the slight descent was a
+small bayou, beyond this the forest stretched away in one unbroken mass
+to the Mississippi. Here and there, gleaming in the brilliant morning
+light, some great bend of the river was visible through the trees, while
+the Arkansas coast, blue and distant, piled up against the far horizon.
+
+"What is it you want to see, anyhow, Betty?" Tom demanded, turning on
+her.
+
+"Everything--the place, Tom--Belle Plain! Oh, isn't it beautiful! I had
+no idea how lovely it was!" cried Betty, as with her eyes still fixed on
+the distant panorama of woods and water she went down the steps, Tom
+at her heels--he bet she'd get sick of it all soon enough, that was one
+comfort!
+
+"Why, Tom! Why does the lawn look like this?"
+
+"Like what?" inquired Tom.
+
+"Why, this--all weeds and briers, and the paths overgrown?" and as Betty
+surveyed the unkempt waste that had once been a lawn, a little frown
+fixed itself on her smooth brow.
+
+Mr. Ware rubbed his chin reflectively with the back of his hand.
+
+"That sort of thing looked all right, Bet," he said, "but it kept five
+or six of the best hands out of the fields right at the busiest time of
+the year."
+
+"Haven't I slaves enough?" she asked.
+
+The dull color crept into Ware's cheeks. He hated her for that "I!" So
+she was going to come that on him, was she? And he'd worked himself like
+a horse to bring in more land. Why, he'd doubled the acreage in cotton
+and corn in the last four years! He smothered his sense of hurt and
+indignation.
+
+"Don't you want to see the crops, Bet? Let me order a team and show you
+about, you couldn't walk over the place in a week!" he urged.
+
+The girl shook her head and moved swiftly down the path that led from
+terrace to terrace to the margin of the bayou. At the first terrace she
+paused. All below was a wilderness of tangled vines and brush. She faced
+Tom rather piteously. What had been lost was more than he could possibly
+understand. Her father had planned these grounds which he was allowing a
+riotous second growth to swallow up.
+
+"It's positively squalid!" cried Betty, with a little stamp of her foot.
+
+Ware glanced about with dull eyes. The air of neglect and decay which
+was everywhere visible, and which was such a shock to Betty, had not
+been reached in a season, he was really convinced that the place looked
+pretty much as it had always looked.
+
+"I'll tell you, Betty, I'm busy this morning; you poke about and see
+what you want done and we'll do it," he said, and made a hasty retreat
+to his office, a little brick building at the other side of the house.
+
+Betty returned to the porch and seating herself on the top step with her
+elbows on her knees and her chin sunk in the palms of her hands, gazed
+about her miserably enough. She was still seated there when half an hour
+later Charley Norton galloped up the drive from the highroad. Catching
+sight of her on the porch he sprang from the saddle, and, throwing his
+reins to a black boy, hurried to her side.
+
+"Inspecting your domain, Betty?" he asked, as he took his place near her
+on the step.
+
+"Why didn't you tell me, Charley--or at least prepare me for this?" she
+asked, almost tearfully.
+
+"How was I to know, Betty? I haven't been here since you went away,
+dear--what was there to bring me? Old Tom would make a cow pasture out
+of the Garden of Eden, wouldn't he--a beautiful, practical, sordid soul
+he is!"
+
+"What am I going to do, Charley?"
+
+"Keep after him until you get what you want, it's the only way to manage
+Tom that I know of."
+
+"It's horrid to have to assert one's self!"
+
+"You'll have to with Tom--you must, Betty--he won't understand anything
+else." Then he added: "Let's look around and see what's needed, a season
+or two of care will remedy the most of this neglect. Just make Tom put a
+lot of hands in here with brush-hooks and axes and soon you'll not know
+the place!"
+
+Norton spent the day at Belle Plain; and though he was there on his good
+behavior as the result of an agreement they had reached on board The
+Naiad, he proposed twice.
+
+"My intentions are all right, Betty," he assured her in extenuation.
+"But I've the worst memory imaginable. Oh, yes, the lower terrace is
+badly gullied, but it's no great matter, it can be fixed with a little
+work."
+
+It was soon plain to Betty that Tom's ideals, if he possessed any,
+had not led him in the direction of what he termed display. His social
+impulse had suffered atrophy. The house was utterly disorganized; there
+was a dearth of suitable servants. Those she had known were gone--sold,
+she learned. Tom explained that there had been no need for them since
+he had lived pretty much in his office, what had been the use in keeping
+darkies standing about doing nothing? He had got rid of those show
+niggers and put their price in husky field hands, who could be made to
+do a day's work and not feel they were abused.
+
+But Tom was mistaken in his supposition that Betty would soon tire of
+Belle Plain. She demanded men, and teams, and began on the lawns. This
+interested and fascinated her. She was out at sun-up to direct her
+laborers. She had the advantage of Charley Norton's presence and advice
+for the greater part of each day in the week, and Sundays he came to
+look over what had been accomplished, and, as Tom firmly believed, to
+put that little fool up to fresh nonsense. He could have booted him!
+
+As the grounds took shape before her delighted eyes, Betty found leisure
+to institute a thorough reformation indoors. A number of house servants
+were rescued from the quarters and she began to instruct them in their
+new duties.
+
+Tom was sick at heart. The little fool would cripple the place. It gave
+him acute nausea to see the gangs at work about the lawns; it made him
+sicker to pass through the house. There were five or six women in the
+kitchen now--he was damned if he could see what they found to do--there
+was a butler and a page. Betty had levied on the stables for one of the
+best teams to draw the family carriage, which had not been in use since
+her mother's death; there was a coachman for that, and another little
+monkey to ride on the rumble and hop down and open gates. This came of
+sending girls away to school--they only learned foolishness.
+
+And those niggers about the house had to be dressed for their new
+work; the butler, a cracking plow-hand he was, wore better clothes than
+he--Tom--did. No wonder he was sick;--and waste! Tom knew all about that
+when the bills began to come in from Memphis. Why, that pink-faced chit,
+he always referred to her in his own mind now as a pink-faced chit, was
+evolving a scheme of life that would cost eight or ten thousand dollars
+a year to maintain, and she was talking of decorators for the house,
+either from New Orleans or Philadelphia, and new furniture from top to
+bottom.
+
+Tom felt that he was being robbed. Then he realized with a sense of
+shock that here was a fortune of over half a million in lands and slaves
+which he had managed and manipulated all these years, but which was not
+his. It was true that under the terms of his stepmother's will he would
+inherit it in the event of Betty's death--well, she looked like dying,
+a whole lot--she was as strong as a mule, those soft rounded curves
+covered plenty of vigorous muscle; Tom hated the very sight of her. A
+pink-faced chit bubbling over with life and useless energy, a perfect
+curse she was, with all sorts of extravagant tastes and he was powerless
+to check her, for, although he was still her guardian, there were
+certain provisions of the will--he consulted the copy he kept locked up
+in his desk in the office--that permitted her to do pretty much as
+she pleased with her income. It was a hell of a will! She could spend
+fifteen or twenty thousand dollars a year if she wanted to and he
+couldn't prevent it. It was an iniquitous document!
+
+Well, the place could go straight off to the devil, he wouldn't wear out
+his life economizing for her to waste--he didn't get a thank-you--and he
+knew that nobody took off the land bigger crops than he did, while bale
+for bale his cotton outsold all other cotton raised in the county--that
+was the kind of a manager he was. He wagged his head in self-approval.
+And what did he get out of it? A lump sum each year with a further
+lump sum of twenty thousand dollars when she came of age--soon now--or
+married. Tom's eyes bulged from their sockets--she'd be doing that next,
+to spite him!
+
+Betty's sphere of influence rapidly extended itself. She soon began to
+have her doubts concerning the treatment accorded the slaves, and was
+not long in discovering that Hicks, the overseer, ran things with a
+heavy hand. Matters reached a crisis one day when, happening to ride
+through the quarters, she found him disciplining a refractory black.
+She turned sick at the sight. Here was a slave actually being whipped
+by another slave while Hicks stood looking on with his hands in his
+pockets, and with a brutal satisfied air. When he caught sight of the
+girl, he sang out,
+
+"That'll do; he's had enough, I reckon, to learn him!" He added sullenly
+to Betty, "Sorry you seen this, Miss!"
+
+"How dare you order such a punishment without authority!" cried Betty
+furiously.
+
+Hicks gave her a black scowl.
+
+"I don't need no authority to whip a shirker," he said insolently, as he
+turned away.
+
+"Stop!" commanded Betty, her eyes blazing. She strove to keep her voice
+steady. "You shall not remain at Belle Plain another hour."
+
+Hicks said nothing. He knew it would take more than her saying so to
+get him off the place. Betty turned her horse and galloped back to the
+house. She felt that she was in no condition to see Tom just at that
+moment, and dismounting at the door ran up-stairs to her room.
+
+Meantime the overseer sought out Ware in his office. His manner
+of stating his grievance was singular. He began by swearing at his
+employer. He had been insulted before all the quarter--his rage fairly
+choked him, he could not speak.
+
+Tom seized the opportunity to swear back. He wanted to know if he
+hadn't troubles enough without the overseer's help? If he'd got himself
+insulted it was his own affair and he could lump it, generally speaking,
+and get out of that office! But Tom's fury quickly spent itself. He
+wanted to know what the matter was.
+
+"Sent you off the place, did she; well, you'll have to eat crow. I'll do
+all I can. I don't know what girls were ever made for anyhow, damned if
+I do!" he added plaintively, as a realization of a stupendous mistake on
+the part of nature overwhelmed him.
+
+Hicks consented to eat crow only after Mr. Ware had cursed and cajoled
+him into a better and more forgiving frame of mind. Then Tom hurried off
+to find Betty and put matters right; a more difficult task than he had
+reckoned on, for Betty was obdurate and her indignation flared up at
+mention of the incident; all his powers of argument and persuasion were
+called into requisition before she would consent to Hicks remaining, and
+then only on that most uncertain tenure, his good behavior.
+
+"Now you come up to the house," said Tom, when he had won his point and
+gone back to Hicks, "and get done with it. I reckon you talked when you
+should have kept your blame familiar mouth shut! Come on, and get it
+over with, and say you're sorry."
+
+Later, after Hicks had made his apology, the two men smoked a friendly
+pipe and discussed the situation. Tom pointed out that opposition was
+useless, a losing game, you could get your way by less direct means. She
+wouldn't stay long at Belle Plain, but while she did remain they must
+avoid any more crises of the sort through which they had just passed,
+and presently; she'd be sick of the place. Tom wagged his head. She was
+sick of it already only she hadn't the sense to know it. It wasn't good
+enough. Nothing suited-the house--the grounds--nothing!
+
+In the midst of her activities Betty occasionally found time to think
+of Bruce Carrington. She was sure she did not wish to see him again! But
+when three weeks had passed she began to feel incensed that he had not
+appeared. She thought of him with hot cheeks and a quickening beat of
+the heart. It was anger. Naturally she was very indignant, as she had
+every right to be! He was the first man who had dared--!
+
+Then one day when she had decided for ever to banish all memory of
+him from her mind, and never, under any circumstances, to think of him
+again, he presented himself at Belle Plain.
+
+She was in her room just putting the finishing touches to an especially
+satisfying toilet when her maid tapped on the door and told her there
+was a gentleman in the parlor who wished to see her.
+
+"Is it Mr. Norton?" asked Betty.
+
+"No, Miss--he didn't give no name, Miss."
+
+When Betty entered the parlor a moment later she saw her caller standing
+with his back turned toward her as he gazed from one of the windows, but
+she instantly recognized those broad shoulders, and the fine poise of
+the shapely head that surmounted them.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Carrington--" and Betty stopped short, while her face grew
+rather pale and then crimsoned. Then she advanced quite boldly and held
+out a frigid hand, which he took carefully. "I didn't know--so you are
+alive--you disappeared so suddenly that night--"
+
+"Yes, I'm alive," he said, and then with a smile. "But I fear before you
+get through with me we'll both wish I were not, Betty."
+
+"Don't call me Betty."
+
+"Who was that man who met you at New Madrid? He can't have you, whoever
+he is!" His eyes dwelt on her tenderly, and the remembered spell of her
+fresh youthful beauty deepened itself for him.
+
+"Perhaps he doesn't want me--"
+
+"Yes, he does. That was plain as day."
+
+Betty surveyed him from under her lashes. What could she do with this
+man? Nothing affected him. He seemed to have crossed some intangible
+barrier and to stand closer to her than any other man had ever stood.
+
+"Do you still hate me, Betty--Miss Malroy--is there anything I can say
+or do that will make you forgive me?" He looked at her penitently.
+
+But Betty hardened her heart against him and prepared to keep him in
+place. Remembering that he was still holding her hand, she recovered it.
+
+"Will you sit down?" she indicated a chair. He seated himself and Betty
+put a safe distance between them. "Are you staying in the neighborhood,
+Mr. Carrington?" she asked, rather unkindly. How did he dare come here
+when she had forgotten him and her annoyance? And now the sight of him
+brought back memories of that disagreeable night on that horrid boat--he
+had deceived her about that boat, too--she would never forgive him for
+that--she had trusted him and he had clearly shown that he was not to be
+trusted; and Betty closed her pretty mouth until it was a thin red line
+and looked away that she might not see his hateful face.
+
+"No, I'm not staying in the neighborhood. When I left you, I made up my
+mind I'd wait at New Madrid until I could come on down here and say I
+was sorry."
+
+"And it's taken you all this time?"
+
+Carrington regarded her seriously.
+
+"I reckon I must have come for more time, Betty--Miss Malroy." In spite
+of herself, Betty glowed under the caressing humor of his tone.
+
+"Really--you must have chosen poorly then when you selected New Madrid.
+It couldn't have been a good place for your purpose."
+
+"I think if I could have made up my mind to stay there long enough, it
+would have answered," said Carrington. "But when a down-river boat tied
+up 'there yesterday it was more than I could stand. You 'see there's
+danger in a town like New Madrid of getting too sorry. I thought we'd
+better discuss this point--"
+
+"Mayn't I show you Belle Plain?" asked Betty quickly.
+
+But Carrington shook his head.
+
+"I don't care anything about that," he said. "I didn't come here to see
+Belle Plain."
+
+"You certainly are candid," said Betty.
+
+"I intend to be honest with you always."
+
+"Dear me--but I don't know that I shall particularly like it. Do
+you think it was quite fair to select the boat you did, or was your
+resolution to be always honest formed later?" demanded Betty severely.
+
+He looked at her with great sweetness of expression.
+
+"I didn't advise that boat for speed, only for safety. Betty, doesn't
+it mean anything to you that I love you? I admit that I wish it had been
+twice as slow!" he added reflectively, as an afterthought. He looked at
+her steadily, and Betty's dark lashes drooped as the color mounted to
+her face.
+
+"I don't," she said quickly. She rose from her chair, and Carrington
+followed her example with a lithe movement that bespoke muscles in good
+training. She led the way through the wide hall and out to the porch.
+
+"Now I am going to show you all over the place," she announced
+resolutely. She stood on the top step, looking off into the flaming
+west where the sun rode low in the heavens. "Isn't it lovely, Mr.
+Carrington, isn't it beautiful?"
+
+"Very beautiful!" Carrington's glance was fixed on her face.
+
+"If you don't care to see Belle Plain," began Betty, rather indignantly.
+"No, I don't, Betty. This is enough for me. I'll come for that some
+other time if you'll be good enough to let me?"
+
+"Then you expect to remain in the neighborhood?"
+
+"I've given up the river, and I'm going to get hold of some land--"
+
+"Land?" said Betty, with a rising inflection.
+
+"Yes, land."
+
+"I thought you were a river-man?"
+
+"I'm a river-man no longer. I am going to be a planter now. But I'll
+tell you why, and all about it some other day." Then he held out his
+hand. "Goodby," he added.
+
+"Are you going--good-by, Mr. Carrington," and Betty's fingers tingled
+with his masterful clasp long after he had gone.
+
+Carrington sauntered slowly down the path to the highroad.
+
+"She didn't ask me to come back--an oversight," he told himself
+cheerfully.
+
+Just beyond the gates he met that same young fellow he had seen at
+New Madrid. Norton nodded good-naturedly as he passed, and Carrington,
+glancing back, saw that he turned in at Belle Plain. He shrugged his
+shoulders, and went on his way not rejoicing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT BOGGS'
+
+
+The judge's faith in the reasonableness of mankind having received a
+staggering blow, there began a somewhat furtive existence for himself,
+for Solomon Mahaffy, and for the boy. They kept to little frequented
+byways, and usually it was the early hours of morning, or the cool of
+late afternoons when they took the road.
+
+The heat of silent middays found them lounging beside shady pools, where
+the ripple of fretted waters filled the pauses in their talk. It was
+then that the judge and Mahaffy exchanged views on literature and
+politics, on religion and politics, on the public debt and politics, on
+canals and national roads and more politics. They could and did honestly
+differ at great length and with unflagging energy on these vital topics,
+especially politics, for they were as far apart mentally as they were
+close together morally.
+
+Mahaffy, morose and embittered, regarded the life they were living as
+an unmixed hardship. The judge entered upon it with infinite zest. He
+displayed astonishing adaptability, while he brought all the resources
+of a calm and modest knowledge to bear on the vexed problem of procuring
+sustenance for himself and for his two companions.
+
+"To an old campaigner like me, nothing could be more delightful than
+this holiday, coming as it does on the heels of grinding professional
+activity," he observed to Mahaffy. "This is the way our first parents
+lived--close to nature, in touch with her gracious beneficence! Sir,
+this experience is singularly refreshing after twenty years of slaving
+at the desk. If any man can grasp the possibilities of a likely looking
+truck-patch at a glance, I am that man, and as for getting around in the
+dark and keeping the lay of the land--well, I suppose it's my military
+training. Jackson always placed the highest value on such data as I
+furnished him. He leaned on me more than any other man, Solomon--"
+
+"I've heard he stood up pretty straight," said Mahaffy affably.
+The judge's abandoned conduct distressed him not a little, but his
+remonstrances had been in vain.
+
+"I consider that when society subjected me to the indignity of arrest, I
+was relieved of all responsibility. Injustice must bear its own fruit,"
+the judge had answered him sternly.
+
+His beginnings had been modest enough: a few ears of corn, a few hills
+of potatoes, and the like, had satisfied him; then one night he appeared
+in camp with two streaks of scarlet down the side of his face.
+
+"Are you hurt, Price?" demanded Mahaffy, betraying an anxiety of which
+he was instantly ashamed.
+
+"Let me relieve your apprehension, Solomon; it's only a trickle of
+stewed fruit. I folded a couple of pies and put them in the crown of my
+hat," explained the judge.
+
+"You mean you've been in somebody's springhouse?"
+
+"It was unlocked, Solomon, This will be a warning to the owner. I
+consider I have done him a kindness."
+
+Thus launched on a career of plunder, the judge very speedily
+accumulated a water bucket--useful when one wished to milk a cow--an ax
+from a woodpile, a kettle from a summer kitchen, a tin of soft soap, and
+an excellent blanket from a wash-line.
+
+"For the boy, Solomon," he said gently, when he caught Mahaffy's steady
+disapproving glance fixed upon him as he displayed this last trophy.
+
+"What sort of an example are you setting him?"
+
+"The world is full of examples I'd not recommend, Solomon. One must
+learn to discriminate. A body can no more follow all the examples than
+he can follow all the roads, and I submit that the ends of morality can
+as well be served in showing a child what he should not do as in showing
+him what he should. Indeed, I don't know but it's the finer educational
+idea!"
+
+Thereafter the judge went through the land with an eye out for
+wash-lines.
+
+"I'm looking for a change of linen for the boy, Solomon," he said. "Let
+me bring you a garment or two. Eh--how few men you'll find of my build;
+those last shirts I got were tight around the armholes and had no more
+tail than a rabbit!"
+
+Two nights later Mr. Mahaffy accepted a complete change of under linen,
+but without visible sign of gratitude.
+
+A night later the judge disappeared from camp, and after a prolonged
+absence returned puffing and panting with three watermelons, which
+proved to be green, since his activity had been much in advance of the
+season.
+
+"I don't suppose there is any greater tax on human ingenuity than to
+carry three watermelons!" he remarked. "The human structure is ideally
+adapted to the transportation of two--it can be done with comfort; but
+when a body tackles three he finds that nature herself is opposed to the
+proceeding! Well, I am going back for a bee-gum I saw in a fence corner.
+Hannibal will enjoy that--a child is always wanting sweets!"
+
+In this fashion they fared gaily across the state, but as they neared
+the Mississippi the judge began to consider the future. His bright
+and illuminating intelligence dealt with this problem in all its
+many-sidedness.
+
+"I wish you'd enter one of the learned professions, Solomon--have you
+ever thought of medicine?" he inquired. Mr. Mahaffy laughed. "But why
+not, Solomon? There is nothing like a degree or a title--that always
+stamps a man, gives him standing--"
+
+"What do I know about the human system?"
+
+"I should certainly hope you know as much as the average doctor knows.
+We could locate in one of these new towns where they have the river on
+one side and the canal on the other, and where everybody has the ague--"
+
+"What do I know about medicine?" inquired Mahaffy.
+
+"As much as Aesculapius, no doubt--even he had to make a beginning. The
+torch of science wasn't lit in a day--you must be willing to wait; but
+you've got a good sick-room manner. Have you ever thought of opening an
+undertaker's shop? If you couldn't cure them you might bury them."
+
+A certain hot afternoon brought them into the shaded main street of a
+straggling village. Near the door of the principal building, a frame
+tavern, a man was seated, with his feet on the horse-rack. There was no
+other sign of human occupancy.
+
+"How do you do, sir?" said the judge, halting before this solitary
+individual whom he conjectured to be the 'landlord. The man nodded,
+thrusting his thumbs into the armholes of his vest. "What's the name of
+this bustling metropolis?" continued the judge, cocking his head on one
+side.
+
+As he spoke, Bruce Carrington appeared in the tavern door; pausing
+there, he glanced curiously at the shabby wayfarers.
+
+"This is Raleigh, in Shelby County, Tennessee, one of the states of the
+Union of which, no doubt, you've heard rumor in your wanderings," said
+the landlord.
+
+"Are you the voice from the tomb?" inquired the judge, in a tone of
+playful sarcasm.
+
+Carrington, amused, sauntered toward him.
+
+"That's one for you, Mr. Pegloe!" he said.
+
+"I am charmed to meet a gentleman whose spirit of appreciation shows his
+familiarity with a literary allusion," said the judge, bowing.
+
+"We ain't so dead as we look," said Pegloe. "Just you keep on to
+Boggs' race-track, straight down the road, and you'll find that
+out--everybody's there to the hoss-racing and shooting-match. I reckon
+you've missed the hoss-racing, but you'll be in time for the shooting.
+Why ain't you there, Mr. Carrington?"
+
+"I'm going now, Mr. Pegloe," answered Carrington, as he followed the
+judge, who, with Mahaffy and the boy, had moved off.
+
+"Better stop at Boggs'!" Pegloe called after them.
+
+But the judge had already formed his decision.
+
+Horse-racing and shooting-matches were suggestive of that progressive
+spirit, the absence of which he had so much lamented at the jail raising
+at Pleasantville--Memphis was their objective point, but Boggs' became
+a side issue of importance. They had gained the edge of the village when
+Carrington overtook them. He stepped to Hannibal's side.
+
+"Here, let me carry that long rifle, son!" he said. Hannibal looked up
+into his face, and yielded the piece without a word. Carrington balanced
+it on his big, muscular palm. "I reckon it can shoot--these old guns are
+hard to beat!" he observed.
+
+"She's the clostest shooting rifle I ever sighted," said Hannibal
+promptly. "You had ought to see the judge shoot her--my! he never
+misses!"
+
+Carrington laughed.
+
+"The clostest shooting rifle you ever sighted--eh?" he repeated. "Why,
+aren't you afraid of it?"
+
+"No," said Hannibal scornfully. "But she kicks you some if you don't
+hold her right."
+
+There was a rusty name-plate on the stock of the old sporting rifle;
+this had caught Carrington's eye.
+
+"What's the name here? Oh, Turberville."
+
+The judge, a step or two in advance, wheeled in his tracks with a
+startling suddenness.
+
+"What?" he faltered, and his face was ashen.
+
+"Nothing, I was reading the name here; it is yours; sir, I suppose?"
+said Carrington.
+
+The color crept slowly back into the judge's cheeks, but a tremulous
+hand stole up to his throat.
+
+"No, sir--no; my name is Price--Slocum Price!
+Turberville--Turberville--" he muttered thickly, staring stupidly at
+Carrington.
+
+"It's not a common name; you seem to have heard it before?" said the
+latter.
+
+A spasm of pain passed over the judge's face.
+
+"I--I've heard it. The name is on the rifle, you say?"
+
+"Here on the stock, yes."
+
+The judge took the gun and examined it in silence.
+
+"Where did you get this rifle, Hannibal?" he at length asked brokenly.
+
+"I fetched it away from the Barony, sir; Mr. Crenshaw said I might have
+it."
+
+The judge gave a great start, and a hoarse inarticulate murmur stole
+from between his twitching lips.
+
+"The Barony--the Barony--what Barony? The Quintard seat in North
+Carolina, is that what you mean?"
+
+"Yes," said the boy.
+
+The judge, as though stunned, stared at Hannibal and stared at the
+rifle, where the rusted name-plate danced before his eyes.
+
+"What do you know of the Barony, Hannibal?" the words came slowly from
+the judge's lips, and his face had gone gray again.
+
+"I lived at the Barony once, until Uncle Bob took me to Scratch Hill to
+be with him. It were Mr. Crenshaw said I was to have the old sp'otin'
+rifle," said Hannibal.
+
+"You--you lived at the Barony?" repeated the judge, and a dull stupid
+wonder struck through his tone, he passed a shaking hand before his
+eyes. "How long ago--when?" he continued.
+
+"I don't know how long it were, but until Uncle Bob carried me away
+after the old general died."
+
+The judge slipped a hand under the child's chin and tilted his face
+back so that he might look into it. For a long moment he studied closely
+those small features, then with a shake of the head he handed the rifle
+to Carrington, and without a word strode forward. Carrington had been
+regarding Hannibal with a quickened interest.
+
+"Hello!" he said, as the judge moved off. "You're the boy I saw at
+Scratch Hill!"
+
+Hannibal gave him a frightened glance, and edged to Mr. Mahaffy's side,
+but did not answer him.
+
+"What's become of Bob Yancy?" Carrington went on. He looked from Mahaffy
+to the judge; externally neither of these gentlemen was calculated
+to inspire confidence. Mahaffy, keenly alive to this fact, returned
+Carrington's glance with a fixed and hostile stare. "Come--" said
+Carrington good-naturedly, "you surely remember me?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I reckon I do--"
+
+"Can't you tell me about Mr. Yancy?"
+
+"No, sir; I don't know exactly where he is--"
+
+"But how did you get here?" persisted Carrington.
+
+Suddenly Mahaffy turned on him.
+
+"Don't you see he's with us?" he said truculently.
+
+"Well, my dear sir, I certainly intended no offense!" rejoined
+Carrington rather hotly.
+
+Mahaffy was plainly disturbed, the debased currency of his affection was
+in circulation where Hannibal was concerned, and he eyed the river-man
+askance. He was prepared to give him the lie should he set up any claim
+to the boy.
+
+The judge plodded forward, his shoulders drooped, and his head bowed.
+For once silence had fixed its seal upon his lips, no inspiring speech
+fell from them. He had been suddenly swept back into a past he had
+striven these twenty years and more to forget, and his memories shaped
+themselves fantastically. Surely if ever a man had quitted the world
+that knew him, he was that man! He had died and yet he lived--lived
+horribly, without soul or heart, the empty shell of a man.
+
+A turn in the road brought them within sight of Boggs' racetrack, a wide
+level meadow. The judge paused irresolutely, and turned his bleared face
+on his friend.
+
+"We'll stop here, Solomon," he said rather wearily, for the spirit of
+boast and jest was quite gone out of him. He glanced toward Carrington.
+"Are you a resident of these parts, sir?" he asked.
+
+"I've been in Raleigh three days altogether," answered Carrington,
+falling into step at his side, and they continued on across the meadow
+in silence.
+
+"Do you observe the decorations of those refreshment booths?--the
+tasteful disposition of our national colors, sir?" the judge presently
+inquired.
+
+Carrington smiled; he was able to follow his companion's train of
+thought.
+
+They were elbowing the crowd now. Here were men from the small clearings
+in homespun and butternut or fringed hunting-shirts, with their women
+folk trailing after them. Here, too, in lesser numbers, were the lords
+of the soil, the men who counted their acres by the thousand and their
+slaves by the score. There was the flutter of skirts among the moving
+groups, the nodding of gay parasols that shaded fresh young faces, while
+occasionally a comfortable family carriage with some planter's wife
+or daughter rolled silently over the turf; for Boggs' race-track was a
+famous meeting-place where families that saw one another not above once
+or twice a year, friends who lived a day's hard drive apart even when
+summer roads were at their best, came as to a common center.
+
+The judge's dull eye kindled, the haggard lines that had streaked his
+face erased themselves. This was life, opulent and full. These swift
+rolling carriages with their handsome women, these well-dressed men on
+foot, and splendidly mounted, all did their part toward lifting him out
+of his gloom. He settled his hat on his head with a rakish slant and his
+walk became a strut, he courted observation; he would have been grateful
+for a word, even a jest at his expense.
+
+A cry from Hannibal drew his attention. Turning, he was in time to see
+the boy bound away. An instant later, to his astonishment, he saw a
+young girl who was seated with two men in an open carriage, spring to
+the ground, and dropping to her knees put her arms about the tattered
+little figure.
+
+"Why, Hannibal!" cried Betty Malroy.
+
+"Miss Betty! Miss Betty!" and Hannibal buried his head on her shoulder.
+
+"What is it, Hannibal; what is it, dear?"
+
+"Nothing, only I'm so glad to find you!"
+
+"I am glad to see you, too!" said Betty, as she wiped his tears away.
+"When did you get here, dear?"
+
+"We got here just to-day, Miss Betty," said Hannibal.
+
+Mr. Ware, careless as to dress, with a wiry black beard of a week's
+growth decorating his chin and giving an unkempt appearance which his
+expression did not mitigate, it being of the sour and fretful sort;
+scowled down on the child. He had favored Boggs' with his presence, not
+because he felt the least interest in horse-racing, but because he had
+no faith in girls, and especially had he profound mistrust of Betty. She
+was so much easily portable wealth, a pink-faced chit ready to fall into
+the arms of the first man who proposed to her. But Charley Norton had
+not seemed disturbed by the planter's forbidding air. Between those
+two there existed complete reciprocity of feeling, inasmuch as
+Tom's presence was as distasteful to Norton as his own presence was
+distressing to Ware.
+
+"Where is your Uncle Bob, Hannibal?" Betty asked, glancing about, and
+at her question a shadow crossed the child's face and the tears gathered
+again in his eyes.
+
+"Ain't you seen him, Miss Betty?" he whispered. He had been sustained by
+the belief that when he found her he should find his Uncle Bob, too.
+
+"Why, what do you mean, Hannibal--isn't your Uncle Bob with you?"
+demanded Betty.
+
+"He got hurt in a fight, and I got separated from him way back yonder
+just after we came out of the mountains." He looked up piteously into
+Betty's face. "But you think he'll find me, don't you?"
+
+"Why, you poor little thing!" cried Betty compassionately, and again she
+sank on her knees at Hannibal's side, and slipped her arms about him.
+The child began to cry softly.
+
+"What ragamuffin's this, Betty?" growled Ware disgustedly.
+
+But Betty did not seem to hear.
+
+"Did you come alone, Hannibal?" she asked.
+
+"No, ma'am; the judge and Mr. Mahaffy, they fetched me."
+
+The judge had drawn nearer as Betty and Hannibal spoke together, but
+Mahaffy hung back. There were gulfs not to be crossed by him. It was
+different with the judge; the native magnificence of his mind fitted him
+for any occasion. He pulled up his stock, and coaxed a half-inch of limp
+linen down about his wrists, then very splendidly he lifted his napless
+hat from his shiny bald head and pressing it against his fat chest with
+much fervor, elegantly inclined himself from the hips.
+
+"Allow me the honor to present myself, ma'am--Price is my name--Judge
+Slocum Price. May I be permitted to assume that this is the Miss
+Betty of whom my young protege so often speaks?" The judge beamed
+benevolently, and rested a ponderous hand on the boy's head.
+
+Tom Ware gave him a glance of undisguised astonishment, while Norton
+regarded him with an expression of stunned and resolute gravity. Mahaffy
+seemed to be undergoing a terrible moment of uncertainty. He was divided
+between two purposes: one was to seize Price by the coat tails and drag
+him back into the crowd; the other was to kick him, and himself fly that
+spot. This singular impulse sprang from the fact that he firmly believed
+his friend's appearance was sufficient to blast the boy's chances in
+every quarter; nor did he think any better of himself.
+
+Betty looked at the judge rather inquiringly.
+
+"I am glad he has found friends," she said slowly. She wanted to believe
+that judge Slocum Price was somehow better than he looked, which should
+have been easy, since it was incredible that he could have been worse.
+
+"He has indeed found friends," said the judge with mellow unction, and
+swelling visibly. These prosperous appearing people should be of use
+to him, God willing--he made a sweeping gesture. "I have assumed the
+responsibility of his future--he is my care."
+
+Now Betty caught sight of Carrington and bowed. Occupied with Hannibal
+and the judge, she had been unaware of his presence. Carrington stepped
+forward.
+
+"Have you met Mr. Norton, and my brother, Mr. Carrington?" she asked.
+
+The two young men shook hands, and Ware improved the opportunity to
+inspect the new-comer. But as his glance wandered over him, it took in
+more than Carrington, for it included the fine figure and swarthy face
+of Captain Murrell, who, with his eyes fixed on Betty, was thrusting his
+eager way through the crowd.
+
+Murrell had presented himself at Belle Plain the day before. For upward
+of a year, Ware had enjoyed great peace of mind as a direct result of
+his absence from west Tennessee, and when he thought of him at all he
+had invariably put a period to his meditations with, "I hope to hell he
+catches it wherever he is!" It had really seemed a pernicious thing to
+him that no one had shown sufficient public spirit to knock the captain
+on the head, and that this had not been done, utterly destroyed his
+faith in the good intentions of Providence.
+
+More than this, Betty had spoken of the captain in no uncertain terms.
+He was not to repeat that visit. Tom must make that point clear to him.
+Tom might entertain him if he liked at his office, but the doors of
+Belle Plain were closed against Captain Murrell; he was not to set his
+foot inside of them.
+
+As Murrell approached, the hot color surged into Betty's face. As for
+Hannibal, he had gone white to the lips, and his small hand clutched
+hers desperately; he was remembering all the terror of that hot dawn at
+Slosson's.
+
+Murrell, with all his hardihood, realized that a too great confidence
+had placed him in an awkward position, for Betty turned her back on him
+and began an animated conversation with Carrington and Charley Norton;
+only Hannibal and the judge continued to regard him; the boy with a
+frightened, fascinated stare, the judge with a wide sweet smile.
+
+Hicks, the Belle Plain overseer, pushed his way to Murrell's side.
+
+"Here, John Murrell, ain't you going to show us a trick or two?" he
+inquired.
+
+Murrell turned quickly with a sense of relief.
+
+"If you can spare me your rifle," he said, but his face wore a
+bleak look. Glancing at Betty, he took up his station with the other
+contestants, whereupon two or three young planters silently withdrew
+from the firing-line.
+
+"Don't you think you've seen about enough, Bet?" demanded Tom. "You
+don't care for the shooting, do you?"
+
+"That's the very thing I do care for; I think I'd rather see that
+than the horse-racing," said Betty perversely. This had been her first
+appearance in public since her home-coming, and she felt that it had
+been most satisfactory. She had met everybody she had ever known, and
+scores of new people; her progress had been quite triumphal in spite
+of Tom, and in spite of Charley Norton, who was plainly not anxious to
+share her with any one, his devotion being rather of the monopolizing
+sort.
+
+Betty now seated herself in the carriage, with Hannibal beside her,
+quietly determined to miss nothing. The judge, feeling that he had come
+into his own, leaned elegantly against the wheel, and explained the
+merits of each shot as it was made.
+
+"Our intruding friend, the Captain, ma'am, is certainly a master with
+his weapon," he observed.
+
+Betty was already aware of this. She turned to Norton.
+
+"Charley, I can't bear to have him win!"
+
+"I am afraid he will, for anything I can do, Betty," said Norton.
+
+"Mr. Carrington, can't you shoot?--do take Hannibal's rifle and beat
+him," she coaxed.
+
+"Don't be too sure that I can!" said Carrington, laughing.
+
+"But I know you can!" urged Betty.
+
+"I hope you gentlemen are not going to let me walk off with the prize?"
+said Murrell, approaching the group about the carriage.
+
+"Mr. Norton, I am told you are clever with the rifle."
+
+"I am not shooting to-day," responded Norton haughtily.
+
+Murrell stalked back to the line.
+
+"At forty paces I'd risk it myself, ma'am," said the judge. "But at a
+hundred, offhand like this, I should most certainly fail--I've burnt too
+much midnight oil. Eh--what--damn the dog, he's scored another center
+shot!"
+
+"It would be hard to beat that--" they heard Murrell say.
+
+"At least it would be quite possible to equal it," said Carrington,
+advancing with Hannibal's rifle in his hands. It was tossed to his
+shoulder, and poured out its contents in a bright stream of flame. There
+was a moment of silence.
+
+"Center shot, ma'am!" cried the judge.
+
+"I'll add twenty dollars to the purse!" Norton addressed himself to
+Carrington. "And I shall hope, sir, to see it go in to your pocket."
+
+"Our sentiments exactly, ma'am, are they not?" said the judge.
+
+"Perhaps you'd like to bet a little of your money?" remarked Murrell.
+
+"I'm ready to do that too, sir," responded Norton quietly.
+
+"Five hundred dollars, then, that this gentleman in whose success you
+take so great an interest, can neither equal nor better my next shot!"
+Murrell had produced a roll of bills as he spoke. Norton colored with
+embarrassment. Carrington took in the situation.
+
+"Wait a minute--" he said, and passed his purse to Norton.
+
+"Cover his money, sir," he added briefly.
+
+"Thank you, my horses have run away with most of my cash," explained
+Norton.
+
+"Your shot!" said Carrington shortly, to the outlaw.
+
+Murrell taking careful aim, fired, clipping the center.
+
+As soon as the result was known, Carrington raised his rifle; his
+bullet, truer than his opponent's, drove out the center. Murrell turned
+on him with an oath.
+
+"You shoot well, but a board stuck against a tree is no test for a man's
+nerve," he said insolently.
+
+Carrington was charging his piece.
+
+"I only know of one other kind of target," he observed coolly.
+
+"Yes--a living target!" cried Murrell.
+
+The crowd opened from right to left. Betty's face grew white, and
+uttering a smothered cry she started to descend from the carriage, but
+the judge rested his hand on her arm.
+
+"No, my dear young, lady, our friend is quite able to care for himself."
+
+Carrington shook the priming into the pan of Hannibal's ancient weapon.
+
+"I am ready for that, too," he said. There was a slow smile on his lips,
+but his eyes, black and burning, looked the captain through and through.
+
+"Another time--" said Murrell, scowling.
+
+"Any time," answered Carrington indifferently.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. THE PORTAL OF HOPE
+
+
+"This--" the speaker was judge Price; "this is the place for me: They
+are a warm-hearted people, sir; a prosperous people, and a patriotic
+people with an unstinted love of country. A people full of rugged
+virtues engaged in carving a great state out of the indulgent bosom of
+Nature. I like the size of their whisky glasses; I like the stuff that
+goes into them; I despise a section that separates its gallons into too
+many glasses. Show me a community that does that, and I'll show you a
+community rapidly tending toward a low scale of living. I'd like to hang
+out my shingle here and practise law."
+
+The judge and Mr. Mahaffy were camped in the woods between Boggs' and
+Raleigh. Betty had carried Hannibal off to spend the night at Belle
+Plain, Carrington had disappeared with Charley Norton; but the judge
+and Mahaffy had lingered in the meadow until the last refreshment booth
+struck its colors to the twilight, and they had not lingered in vain.
+The judge threw himself at full length on the ground, and Mahaffy
+dropped at his side. About them, in the ruddy glow of their camp-fire,
+rose the dark wall of the forest.
+
+"I crave opportunity, Solomon--the indorsement of my own class. I feel
+that I shall have it here," resumed the judge pensively.
+
+But Mahaffy was sad in his joy, sober in his incipientent drunkenness.
+The same handsome treatment which the judge commended, had been as
+freely tendered him, yet he saw the end of all such hospitality. This
+was the worm in the bud. The judge, however, was an eager idealist;
+he still dreamed of Utopia, he still believed in millenniums. Mahaffy
+didn't and couldn't. Memory was the scarecrow in the garden of his
+hopes--you could wear out your welcome anywhere. In the end the world
+reckoned your cost, and unless you were prepared to make some sort of
+return for its bounty, the cold shoulder came to be your portion instead
+of the warm handclasp.
+
+"Hannibal has found friends among people of the first importance. I
+have made it my business to inquire into their standing, and I find
+that young lady is heiress to a cool half million. Think of that,
+Solomon--think of that! I never saw anything more beautiful than her
+manifestation of regard for my protege--"
+
+"And you made it your business, Mr. Price, to do your very damnedest to
+ruin his chances," said Mahaffy, with sudden heat.
+
+"I ruin his chances?--I, sir? I consider that I helped his chances
+immeasurably."
+
+"All right, then, you helped his chances--only you didn't, Price!"
+
+"Am I to understand, Solomon, that you regard my interest in the boy as
+harmful?" inquired the judge, in a tone of shocked surprise.
+
+"I regard it as a calamity," said Mahaffy, with cruel candor.
+
+"And how about you, Solomon?"
+
+"Equally a calamity. Mr. Price, you don't seem able to grasp just what
+we look like!"
+
+"The mind's the only measure of the man, Solomon. If anybody can talk to
+me and be unaware that they are conversing with a gentleman, all I can
+say is their experience has been as pitiable as their intelligence is
+meager. But it hurts me when you intimate that I stand in the way of the
+boy's opportunity."
+
+"Price, what do you; suppose we look like--you and I?"
+
+"In a general way, Solomon, I am conscious that our appeal is to the
+brain rather than the eye," answered the judge, with dignity.
+
+"I reckon even you couldn't do a much lower trick than use the boy as a
+stepping-stone," pursued Mahaffy.
+
+"I don't see how you have the heart to charge me with such a purpose--I
+don't indeed, Solomon." The judge spoke with deep feeling; he was really
+hurt.
+
+"Well, you let the boy have his chance, and don't you stick in your
+broken oar," cried Mahaffy fiercely.
+
+The judge rolled over on his back, and stared up at the heavens.
+
+"This is a new aspect of your versatile nature, Solomon. Must I regard
+you as a personally emancipated moral influence, not committed to the
+straight and narrow path yourself, but still close enough to it to keep
+my feet from straying?" he at length demanded.
+
+Mahaffy having spoken his mind, preserved a stony silence.
+
+The judge got up and replenished the camp-fire, which had burnt low,
+then squatting before it, he peered into the flames.
+
+"You'll not deny, Solomon, that Miss Malroy exhibited a real affection
+for Hannibal?" he began.
+
+"Now don't you try to borrow money of her, Price," said Mahaffy,
+returning to the attack.
+
+"Solomon--Solomon--how can you?"
+
+"That'll be your next move. Now let her alone; let Hannibal have his
+luck as it comes to him."
+
+"You seem to forget, sir, that I still bear the name of gentleman!" said
+the judge.
+
+Mahaffy gave way to acid merriment.
+
+"Well, see that you are not tempted to forget that," he observed.
+
+"If I didn't know your sterling qualities, Solomon, and pay homage to
+'em, I might be tempted to take offense," said the judge.
+
+"It's like pouring water on a duck's back to talk to you, Price; nothing
+strikes in."
+
+"On the contrary, I am at all times ready to listen to reason from any
+quarter, but I've studied this matter in its many-sided aspect. I won't
+say we might not do better in Memphis, but we must consider the boy. No;
+if I can find a vacant house in Raleigh, I wouldn't ask a finer spot in
+which to spend the afternoon of my life."
+
+"Afternoon?" snapped Mahaffy irritably.
+
+"That's right--carp--! But you can't relegate me! You can't shove me
+away from the portal of hope--metaphorically speaking, I'm on the
+stoop; it may be God's pleasure that I enter; there's a place for gray
+heads--and there's a respectable slice of life after the meridian is
+passed."
+
+"Humph!" said Mahaffy.
+
+"I've made my impression; I've been thrown with cultivated minds quick
+to recognize superiority; I've met with deference and consideration."
+
+"Aren't you forgetting the boy?" inquired Mahaffy. "No, sir! I regard my
+obligations where he is concerned as a sacred trust to be administered
+in a lofty and impersonal manner. If his friends--if Miss Malroy, for
+instance--cares to make me the instrument of her benefactions, I'll not
+be disposed to stand on my dignity; but his education shall be my care.
+I'll make such a lawyer of him as America has not seen before! I don't
+ask you to accept my own opinion of my fitness to do this, but two
+gentlemen with whom I talked this evening--one of them was the justice
+of the peace--were pleased to say that they had never heard such
+illuminating comments on the criminal law. I quoted the Greeks and
+Romans to 'em, sir; I gave 'em the salient points on mediaeval law; and
+they were dumfounded and speechless. I reckon they'd never heard such an
+exposition of fundamental principles; I showed 'em the germ and I showed
+'em fruition. Damn it, sir, they were overwhelmed by the array of facts
+I marshaled for 'em. They said they'd never met with such erudition--no
+more they had, for I boiled down thirty years of study into ten minutes
+of talk! I flogged 'em with facts, and then we drank--" The judge
+smacked his lips. "It is this free-handed hospitality I like; it's this
+that gives life its gala aspect."
+
+He forgot former experiences; but without this kindly refusal of memory
+to perform its wonted functions, the world would have been a chill place
+indeed for Slocum Price. But Mahaffy, keen and anxious, with doubt in
+every glass he drained, a lurking devil to grin at him above the rim,
+could see only the end of their brief hour of welcome. This made the
+present moment as bitter as the last.
+
+"I have a theory, Solomon, that I shall be handsomely supported by my
+new friends. They'll snatch at the opportunity."
+
+"I see 'em snatching, Mr. Price," said Mahaffy grimly.
+
+"That's right--go on and plant doubt in my heart if you can! You're as
+hopeless as the grave side!" cried the judge, a spasm of rage shaking
+him.
+
+"The thing for us to do--you and I, Price--is to clear out of here,"
+said Mahaffy.
+
+"But what of the boy?"
+
+"Leave him with his friends."
+
+"How do you know Miss Malroy would be willing to assume his care? It's
+scandalous the way you leap at conclusions. No, Solomon, no--I won't
+shirk a single irksome responsibility," and the judge's voice shook with
+suppressed emotion. Mahaffy laughed. "There you go again, Solomon, with
+that indecent mirth of yours! Friendship aside, you grow more offensive
+every day." The judge paused and then resumed. "I understand there's a
+federal judgeship vacant here. The president--" Mr. Mahaffy gave him
+a furtive leer. "I tell you General Jackson was my friend--we were
+brothers, sir--I stood at his side on the glorious blood-wet field of
+New Orleans! You don't believe me--"
+
+"Price, you've made more demands on my stock of credulity than any man
+I've ever known!"
+
+The judge became somber-faced.
+
+"Unparalleled misfortune overtook me--I stepped aside, but the world
+never waits; I was a cog discarded from the mechanism of society--" He
+was so pleased with the metaphor that he repeated it.
+
+"Look here, Price, you talk as though you were a modern job; what's the
+matter anyhow?--have you got boils?"
+
+The judge froze into stony silence. Well, Mahaffy could sneer--he would
+show him! This was the last ditch and he proposed to descend into it,
+it was something to be able to demand the final word of fate--but
+he instantly recalled that he had been playing at hide-and-seek with
+inevitable consequences for something like a quarter of a century; it
+had been a triumph merely to exist. Mahaffy having eased his conscience,
+rolled over and promptly went to sleep. Flat on his back, the judge
+stared up at the wide blue arch of the heavens and rehearsed those
+promises which in the last twenty years he had made and broken times
+without number. He planned no sweeping reforms, his system of morality
+being little more than a series of graceful compromises with himself.
+He must not get hopelessly in debt; he must not get helplessly drunk.
+Dealing candidly with his own soul in the silence, he presently came
+to the belief that this might be done without special hardship. Then
+suddenly the rusted name-plate on Hannibal's old rifle danced again
+before his burning eyes, and a bitter sense of hurt and loss struck
+through him. He saw himself as he was, a shabby outcast, a tavern
+hanger-on, the utter travesty of all he should have been; he dropped his
+arm across his face.
+
+
+The first rift of light in the sky found the judge stirring; it found
+him in his usual cheerful frame of mind. He disposed of his toilet and
+breakfast with the greatest expedition.
+
+"Will you stroll into town with me, Solomon?" he asked, when they had
+eaten. Mahaffy shook his head, his air was still plainly hostile. "Then
+let your prayers follow me, for I'm off!" said the judge.
+
+Ten minutes' walk brought him to the door of the city tavern, where he
+found Mr. Pegloe directing the activities of a small colored boy who was
+mopping out his bar. To him the judge made known his needs.
+
+"Goin' to locate, are you?" said Mr. Pegloe.
+
+"My friends urge it, sir, and I have taken the matter under
+consideration," answered the judge.
+
+"Sho, do you know any folks hereabouts?" asked Mr. Pegloe.
+
+"Not many," said the judge, with reserve.
+
+"Well, the only empty house in town is right over yonder; it belongs to
+young Charley Norton out at Thicket Point Plantation."
+
+"Ah-h!" said the judge.
+
+The house Mr. Pegloe had pointed out was a small frame building; it
+stood directly on the street, with a narrow porch across the front, and
+a shed addition at the back. The judge scuttled over to it. With his
+hands clasped under the tails of his coat he walked twice about the
+building, stopping to peer in at all the windows, then he paused and
+took stock of his surroundings. Over the way was Pegloe's City Tavern;
+farther up the street was the court-house, a square wooden box with a
+crib that housed a cracked bell, rising from a gable end. The judge's
+pulse quickened. What a location, and what a fortunate chance that Mr.
+Norton was the owner of this most desirable tenement.
+
+He must see him at once. As he turned away to recross the street and
+learn from Mr. Pegloe by what road Thicket Point might be reached,
+Norton himself galloped into the village. Catching sight of the judge,
+he reined in his horse and swung himself from the saddle.
+
+"I was hoping, sir, I might find you," he said, as they met before the
+tavern.
+
+"A wish I should have echoed had I been aware of it!" responded the
+judge. "I was about to do myself the honor to wait upon you at your
+plantation."
+
+"Then I have saved you a long walk," said Norton. He surveyed the judge
+rather dubiously, but listened with great civility and kindness as he
+explained the business that would have taken him to Thicket Point.
+
+"The house is quite at your service, sir," he said, at length.
+
+"The rent--" began the judge. He had great natural delicacy always in
+mentioning matters of a financial nature.
+
+But Mr. Norton, with a delicacy equal to his own, entreated him not to
+mention the rent. The house had come to him as boot in a trade. It
+had been occupied by a doctor and a lawyer; these gentlemen had each
+decamped between two days, heavily in debt at the stores and taverns,
+especially the taverns.
+
+"I can't honestly say they owed me, since I never expected to get
+anything out of them; however, they both left some furniture, all that
+was necessary for the kind of housekeeping they did, for they were
+single gentlemen and drew the bulk of their nourishment from Pegloe's
+bar. I'll turn the establishment over to you with the greatest
+pleasure in the world, and wish you better luck than your predecessors
+had--you'll offend me if you refer to the rent again!"
+
+And thus handsomely did Charley Norton acquit himself of the mission he
+had undertaken at Betty Malroy's request.
+
+That same morning Tom Ware and Captain Murrell were seated in the small
+detached building at Belle Plain, known as the office, where the former
+spent most of his time when not in the saddle. Whatever the planter's
+vices, and he was reputed to possess a fair working knowledge of good
+and evil, no one had ever charged him with hypocrisy. His emotions
+lay close to the surface and wrote themselves on his unprepossessing
+exterior with an impartial touch. He had felt no pleasure when Murrell
+rode into the yard, and he had welcomed him according to the dictates of
+his mood, which was one of surly reticence.
+
+"So your sister doesn't like me, Tom--that's on your mind this morning,
+is it?" Murrell was saying, as he watched his friend out of the corner
+of his eyes.
+
+"She was mad enough, the way you pushed in on us at Boggs' yesterday.
+What happened back in North Carolina, Murrell, anyhow?"
+
+"Never you mind what happened."
+
+"Well, it's none of my business, I reckon; she'll have to look out for
+herself, she's nothing to me but a pest sand a nuisance--I've been more
+bothered since she came back than I've been in years! I'd give a good
+deal to be rid of her," said Ware, greatly depressed as he recalled the
+extraordinary demands Betty had made.
+
+"Make it worth my while and I'll take her off your hands," and Murrell
+laughed.
+
+Tom favored him with a sullen stare.
+
+"You'd better get rid of that notion--of all fool nonsense, this love
+business is the worst! I can't see the slightest damn difference between
+one good looking girl and another. I wish every one was as sensible as
+I am," he lamented. "I wouldn't miss a meal, or ten minutes' sleep, on
+account of any woman in creation," and Ware shook his head.
+
+"So your sister doesn't like me?"
+
+"No, she doesn't," said Ware, with simple candor.
+
+"Told you to put a stop to my coming here?"
+
+"Not here--to the house, yes. She doesn't give a damn, so long as she
+doesn't have to see you."
+
+Murrell, somber-faced and thoughtful, examined a crack in the flooring.
+
+"I'd like to know what happened back yonder in North Carolina to make
+her so blazing mad?" continued Ware.
+
+"Well, if you want to know, I told her I loved her."
+
+"That's all right, that's the fool talk girls like to hear," said Ware.
+He lighted a cigar with an air of wearied patience.
+
+"Open the door, Tom," commanded Murrell.
+
+"It is close in here," agreed the planter.
+
+"It isn't that, but you smoke the meanest cigars I ever smelt, I always
+think your shoes are on fire. Tom, do you want to get rid of her? Did
+you mean that?"
+
+"Oh, shut up," said Tom, dropping his voice to a surly whisper.
+
+There was a brief silence, during which Murrell studied his friend's
+face. When he spoke, it was to give the conversation a new direction.
+
+"Did she bring the boy here last night? I saw you drive off with him in
+the carriage."
+
+"Yes, she makes a regular pet of the little ragamuffin--it's perfectly
+sickening!"
+
+"Who were the two men with him?"
+
+"One of 'em calls himself judge Price; the other kept out of the way, I
+didn't hear his name."
+
+"Is the boy going to stay at Belle Plain?" inquired Murrell.
+
+"That notion hasn't struck her yet, for I heard her say at breakfast
+that she'd take him to Raleigh this afternoon."
+
+"That's the boy I traveled all the way to North Carolina to get for
+Fentress. I thought I had him once, but the little cuss gave me the
+slip."
+
+"Eh--you don't say?" cried Ware.
+
+"Tom, what do you know about the Quintard lands; what do you know about
+Quintard himself?" continued Murrell.
+
+"He was a rich planter, lived in North Carolina. My father met him when
+he was in congress and got him to invest in land here. They had some
+colonization scheme on foot this was upward of twenty years ago--but
+nothing came of it. Quintard lost interest."
+
+"And the land?"
+
+"Oh, he held on to that."
+
+"Is there much of it?"
+
+"A hundred thousand acres," said Ware.
+
+Murrell whistled softly under his breath.
+
+"What's it worth?"
+
+"A pot of money, two or three dollars an acre anyhow," answered Ware.
+
+"Quintard has been dead two years, Tom, and back yonder in North
+Carolina they told me he left nothing but the home plantation. The boy
+lived there up to the time of Quintard's death, but what relation he was
+to the old man no one knew. What do you suppose Fentress wants with him?
+He offered me five thousand dollars if I'd bring him West; and he still
+wants him, only he's lying low now to see what comes of the two old
+sots--he don't want to move in the dark. Offhand, Tom, I'd say that by
+getting hold of the boy Fentress expects to get hold of the Quintard
+land."
+
+"That's likely," said Ware, then struck by a sudden idea, he added, "Are
+you going to take all the risks and let him pocket the cash? If it's the
+land he's after, the stake's big enough to divide."
+
+"He can have the whole thing and welcome, I'm playing for a bigger
+stake." His friend stared at him in astonishment. "I tell you, Tom, I'm
+bent on getting even with the world! No silver spoon came in the way of
+my mouth when I was a youngster; my father was too honest--and I think
+the less of him for it!"
+
+Mr. Ware seemed on the whole edified by the captain's unorthodox point
+of view.
+
+"My mother was the true grit though; she came of mountain stock, and
+taught us children to steal by the time we could think! Whatever we
+stole, she hid, and dared my father to touch us. I remember the first
+thing of account was when I was ten years old. A Dutch peddler came to
+our cabin one winter night and begged us to take him in. Of course, he
+opened his pack before he left, and almost under his nose I got away
+with a bolt of linen. The old man and woman fought about it, but if the
+peddler discovered his loss he had the sense not to come back and tell
+of it! When I was seventeen I left home with three good horses I'd
+picked up; they brought me more money than I'd ever seen before and I
+got my first taste of life--that was in Nashville where I made some
+good friends with whose help I soon had as pretty a trade organized
+in horseflesh as any one could wish." A somber tone had crept into
+Murrell's voice, while his glance had become restless and uneasy. He
+went on: "I'm licking a speculation into shape that will cause me to be
+remembered while there's a white man alive in the Mississippi Valley!"
+His wicked black eyes were blazing coals of fire in their deep sockets.
+"Have you heard what the niggers did at Hayti?"
+
+"My God, John--no, I won't talk to you--and don't you think about it!
+That's wrong--wrong as hell itself!" cried Ware.
+
+"There's no such thing as right and wrong for me. That'll do for those
+who have something to lose. I was born with empty hands and I am going
+to fill them where and how I can. I believe the time has come when the
+niggers can be of use to me--look what Turner did back in Virginia three
+years ago! If he'd had any real purpose he could have laid the country
+waste, but he hadn't brains enough to engineer a general uprising."
+
+Ware was probably as remote from any emotion that even vaguely
+approximated right feeling as any man could well be, but Murrell's words
+jarred his dull conscience, or his fear, into giving signs of life.
+
+"Don't you talk of that business, we want nothing of that sort out here.
+You let the niggers alone!" he said, but he could scarcely bring himself
+to believe that Murrell had spoken in earnest. Yet even if he jested,
+this was a forbidden subject.
+
+"White brains will have to think for them, if it's to be more than a
+flash in the pan," said Murrell unheeding him.
+
+"You let the niggers alone, don't you tamper with them," said Ware.
+He possessed a profound belief in Murrell's capacity. He knew how the
+latter had shaped the uneasy population that foregathered on the edge of
+civilization to his own ends, and that what he had christened the Clan
+had become an elaborate organization, disciplined and flexible to his
+ruthless will.
+
+"Look here, what do you think I have been working for--to steal a few
+niggers?"
+
+"A few--you've been sending 'em south by the boatload! You ought to be a
+rich man, Murrell. If you're not it's your own fault."
+
+"That furnishes us with money, but you can push the trade too hard
+and too far, and we've about done that. The planters are uneasy in the
+sections we've worked over, there's talk of getting together to clean
+out everybody who can't give a good account of himself. The Clan's got
+to deal a counter blow or go out of business. It was so with the horse
+trade; in the end it became mighty unhandy to move the stock we'd
+collected. We've reached the same point now with the trade in niggers.
+Between here and the gulf--" he made a wide sweeping gesture with his
+arm. "I am spotting the country with my men; there are two thousand
+active workers on the rolls of the Clan, and as many more like you,
+Tom--and Fentress--on whose friendship I can rely." He leaned toward
+Ware. "You'd be slow to tell me I couldn't count on you, Tom, and you'd
+be slow to think I couldn't manage this thing when the time's ripe for
+it!"
+
+But no trace of this all-sufficient sense of confidence, of which he
+seemed so certain, showed on Ware's hardened visage. He spat away the
+stump of his cigar.
+
+"Sure as God, John Murrell, you are overreaching yourself! Your white
+men are all right, they've got to stick by you; if they don't they know
+it's only a question of time until they get a knife driven into their
+ribs--but niggers--there isn't any real fight in a nigger, if there was
+they wouldn't be here."
+
+"Yet you couldn't have made the whites in Hayti believe that," said
+Murrell, with a sinister smile.
+
+"Because they were no-account trash themselves!" returned Ware, shaking
+his head. "We'll all go down in this muss you're fixing for!" he added.
+
+"No, you won't, Tom. I'll look out for my friends. You'll be warned in
+time."
+
+"A hell of a lot of good a warning will do!" growled Ware.
+
+"The business will be engineered so that you, and those like you, will
+not be disturbed. Maybe the niggers will have control of the country
+for a day or two in the thickly settled parts near the towns; longer,
+of course, where the towns and plantations are scattering. The end will
+come in the swamps and cane-brakes, and the members of the Clan who
+don't get rich while the trouble is at its worst, will have to stay
+poor. As for the niggers, I expect nothing else than that they will
+be pretty well exterminated. But look what that will do for men like
+yourself, Tom, who will have been able to hold on to their slaves!"
+
+"I'd like to have some guarantee that I'd be able to; do that! No, sir,
+the devils will all go whooping off to raise hell." Ware shivered at
+the picture his mind had conjured up. "Well, thank God, they're not my
+niggers!" he added.
+
+"You'd better come with me, Tom," said Murrell.
+
+"With you?"
+
+"Yes, I'm going to keep New Orleans for myself; that's a plum I'm going
+to pick with the help of a few friends, and I'd cheerfully hang for it
+afterward if I could destroy the city Old Hickory saved--but I expect to
+quit the country in good time; with a river full of ships I shan't lack
+for means of escape." His manner was cool and decided. He possessed in
+an eminent degree the egotism that makes possible great crimes and great
+criminals, and his degenerate brain dealt with this colossal horror as
+simply as if it had been a petty theft.
+
+"There's no use in trying to talk you out of this, John, but I just want
+to ask you one thing: you do all you say you are going to do, and then
+where in hell's name will you be safe?"
+
+"I'll take my chances. What have I been taking all my life but the
+biggest sort of chances?--and for little enough!"
+
+Ware, feeling the entire uselessness of argument, uttered a string of
+imprecations, and then fell silent. His acquaintance with Murrell was
+of long standing. It dated back to the time when he was growing into the
+management of Belle Plain. A chance meeting with the outlaw in Memphis
+had developed into the closest intimacy, and the plantation had become
+one of the regular stations for the band of horse-thieves of which
+Murrell had spoken. But time had wrought its changes. Tom was now in
+full control of Belle Plain and its resources, and he had little heart
+for such risks as he had once taken.
+
+"Well, how about the girl, Tom?" asked Murrell at length, in a low even
+tone.
+
+"The girl? Oh, Betty, you mean?" said Ware, and shifted uneasily in his
+seat. "Haven't you got enough on your hands without worrying about her?
+She don't like you, haven't I told you that? Think of some one else for
+a spell, and you'll find it answers," he urged.
+
+"What do you think is going to happen here if I take your advice? She'll
+marry one of these young bloods!" Ware's lips twitched. "And then, Tom,
+you'll get your orders to move out, while her husband takes over the
+management of her affairs. What have you put by anyhow?--enough to stock
+another place?"
+
+"Nothing, not a damn cent!" said Ware. Murrell laughed incredulously.
+"It's so! I've turned it all over--more lands, more niggers, bigger
+crops each year. Another man might have saved his little spec, but I
+couldn't; I reckon I never believed it would go to her, and I've managed
+Belle Plain as if I were running it for myself." He seemed to writhe as
+if undergoing some acute bodily pain.
+
+"And you are in a fair way to turn it all over to her husband when she
+marries, and step out of here a beggar, unless--"
+
+"It isn't right, John! I haven't had pay for my ability! Why, the place
+would have gone down to nothing with any management but mine!"
+
+"If she were to die, you'd inherit?"
+
+Ware laughed harshly.
+
+"She looks like dying, doesn't she?"
+
+"Listen to me, Tom. I'll take her away, and Belle Plain is yours--land,
+stock and niggers!" said Murrell quietly.
+
+Ware shifted and twisted in his seat.
+
+"It can't be done. I can advise and urge: but I can't command. She's got
+her friends, those people back yonder in North Carolina, and if I made
+things uncomfortable for her here she'd go to them and I couldn't
+stop her. You don't seem to get it through your head that she's got no
+earthly use for you!"
+
+Murrell favored him with a contemptuous glance.
+
+"You're like every one else! Certain things you'll do, and certain other
+things you won't even try to do--your conscience or your fear gets in
+your way."
+
+"Call it what you like."
+
+"I offer to take the girl off your hands; when I quit the country she
+shall go with me--"
+
+"And I'd be left here to explain what had become of her!" cried Ware, in
+a panic.
+
+"You won't have anything to explain. She'll have disappeared, that will
+be all you'll know," said Murrell quietly.
+
+"She'll never marry you."
+
+"Don't you be too sure of that. She may be glad enough to in the end."
+
+"Oh, you think you are a hell of a fellow with women! Well, maybe you
+are with one sort--but what do you know about her kind?" jeered the
+planter.
+
+Murrell's brow darkened.
+
+"I'll manage her," he said briefly.
+
+"You were of some account until this took hold of you," complained Ware.
+
+"What do you say? One would hardly think I was offering to make you a
+present of the best plantation in west Tennessee!" said Murrell.
+
+Ware seemed to suck in hope through his shut teeth.
+
+"I don't want to know anything about this, you are going to swamp
+yourself yet--you're fixing to get yourself strung up--yes, by thunder,
+that'll be your finish!"
+
+"Do you want the land and the niggers? I reckon you'll have to take them
+whether you want them or not, for I'm going to have the girl."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. BOB YANCY FINDS HIMSELF
+
+
+Mr. Yancy awoke from a long dreamless sleep; heavy-lidded, his eyes slid
+open. For a moment he struggled with the odds and ends of memory, then
+he recalled the fight at the tavern, the sudden murderous attack, the
+fierce blows Slosson had dealt him, the knife thrust which had ended
+the struggle. Therefore, the bandages that now swathed his head and
+shoulders; therefore, the need that he should be up and doing--for where
+was Hannibal?
+
+He sought to lift himself on his elbow, but the effort sent shafts of
+pain through him; his head seemed of vast size and endowed with a weight
+he could not support. He sank back groaning, and closed his eyes. After
+a little interval he opened them again and stared about him. There
+was the breath of dawn in the air; he heard a rooster crow, and the
+contented grunting of a pig close at hand. He was resting under a rude
+shelter of poles and bark. Presently he became aware of a slow gliding
+movement, and the silvery ripple of water. Clearly he was no longer at
+the tavern, and clearly some one had taken the trouble to bandage his
+hurts.
+
+At length his eyes rolling from side to side focused themselves on a low
+opening near the foot of his shakedown bed. Beyond this opening, and
+at some little distance, he saw a sunbonneted woman of a plump and
+comfortable presence. She was leaning against a tub which rested on a
+rude bench. At her back was another bark shanty similar to the one that
+sheltered himself, while on either hand a shoreless expanse of water
+danced and sparkled under the rays of the newly risen sun. As his
+eyes slowly took in the scene, Yancy's astonishment mounted higher and
+higher. The lady's sunbonnet quite hid her face, but he saw that she was
+smoking a cob-pipe.
+
+He was still staring at her, when the lank figure of a man emerged from
+the other shanty. This man wore a cotton shirt and patched butternut
+trousers; he way hatless and shoeless, and his hair stood out from his
+head in a great flaming shock. He, too, was smoking a cob-pipe. Suddenly
+the man put out a long arm which found its way about the lady's waist,
+an attention that culminated in a vigorous embrace. Then releasing her,
+he squared his shoulders, took a long breath, beat his chest with the
+flat of his hands and uttered a cheerful whoop. The embrace, the deep
+breath, and the whoop constituted Mr. Cavendish's morning devotions,
+and were expressive of a spirit of thankfulness to the risen sun, his
+general satisfaction with the course of Providence, and his homage to
+the lady of his choice.
+
+Swinging about on his heel, Cavendish passed beyond Yancy's range of
+vision. Again the latter attempted to lift himself on his elbow, but
+sky and water changed places before his eyes and he dropped down on his
+pillow with a stifled sigh. He seemed to be slipping back into the black
+night from which he had just emerged. Again he was at Scratch Hill,
+again Dave Blount was seeking to steal his nevvy--incidents of the
+trial and flight recurred to him--all was confused, feverish, without
+sequence.
+
+Suddenly a shadow fell obliquely across the foot of his narrow bed, and
+Cavendish, bending his long body somewhat, thrust his head in at the
+opening. He found himself looking into a pair of eyes that for the first
+time in many a long day held the light of consciousness.
+
+"How are you, stranger?" he demanded, in a soft drawl.
+
+"Where am I?" the words were a whisper on Yancy's bearded lips.
+
+"Well, sir, you are in the Tennessee River fo' certain; my wife will
+make admiration when she hears you speak. Polly! you jest step here."
+
+But Polly had heard Cavendish speak, and the murmur of Yancy's voice in
+reply. Now her head appeared beside her husband's, and Yancy saw that
+she was rosy and smiling, and that her claim to good looks was something
+that could not well be denied.
+
+"La, you are some better, ain't you, sir?" she cried, smiling down on
+him.
+
+"How did I get here, and where's my nevvy?" questioned Yancy anxiously.
+
+"There now, you ain't in no condition fo' to pester yo'self with
+worry. You was fished up out of the Elk River by Mr. Cavendish," Polly
+explained, still smiling and dimpling at him.
+
+"When, ma'am--last night?"
+
+"You got another guess coming to you, stranger!" It was Cavendish who
+spoke.
+
+"Do you mean, sir, that I been unconscious for a spell?" suggested Yancy
+rather fearfully, glancing from one to the other.
+
+"It's been right smart of a spell, too; yes, sir, you've laid like you
+was dead, and not fo' a matter of hours either--but days."
+
+"How long?"
+
+"Well, nigh on to three weeks."
+
+They saw Yancy's eyes widen with a look of dumb horror.
+
+"Three weeks!" he at length repeated, and groaned miserably. He was
+thinking of Hannibal.
+
+"You was mighty droll to look at when I fished you up out of the river,"
+continued Mr. Cavendish. "You'd been cut and beat up scandalous!"
+
+"And you don't know nothing about my nevvy?--you ain't seen or heard of
+him, ma'am?" faltered Yancy, and glanced up into Polly's comely face.
+
+Polly shook her head regretfully.
+
+"How come you in the river?" asked Cavendish.
+
+"I reckon I was throwed in. It was a man named Murrell and another
+man named Slosson. They tried fo' to murder me--they wanted to get my
+nevvy--I 'low they done it!" and Yancy groaned again.
+
+"You'll get him back," said Polly soothingly.
+
+"Could you-all put me asho'?" inquired Yancy, with sudden eagerness.
+
+"We could, but we won't," said Cavendish, in no uncertain tone.
+
+"Why, la!--you'd perish!" exclaimed Polly.
+
+"Are we far from where you-all picked me up?"
+
+Cavendish nodded. He did not like to tell Yancy the distance they had
+traversed.
+
+"Where are you-all taking me?" asked Yancy.
+
+"Well, stranger, that's a question I can't answer offhand. The Tennessee
+are a twister; mebby it will be Kentucky; mebby it will be Illinoy, and
+mebby it will be down yonder on the Mississippi. My tribe like this way
+of moving about, and it certainly favors a body's legs."
+
+"How old was your nevvy?" inquired Polly, reading the troubled look in
+Yancy's gray eyes.
+
+"Ten or thereabouts, ma'am. He were a heap of comfort to me," and the
+whisper on Yancy's lips was wonderfully tender and wistful.
+
+"Just the age of my Richard," said Polly, her glance full of compassion
+and pity.
+
+Mr. Cavendish essayed to speak, but was forced to pause and clear his
+throat. The allusion to Richard in this connection having been almost
+more than he could endure with equanimity. When he was able to put his
+thoughts into words, he said:
+
+"I shore am distressed fo' you. I tried to leave you back yonder where
+I found you, but no one knowed you and you looked so near dead folks
+wouldn't have it. What parts do you come from?"
+
+"No'th Carolina. Me and my nevvy was a-goin' into west Tennessee to
+a place called Belle Plain, somewhere near Memphis. We have friends
+there," explained Yancy.
+
+"That settles it!" cried Cavendish. "It won't be Kentucky, and it won't
+be Illinoy; I'll put you asho' at Memphis; mebby you'll find yo' nevvy
+there after all."
+
+"That's the best. You lay still and get yo' strength back as fast as
+you can, and try not to worry--do now." Polly's voice was soft and
+wheedling.
+
+"I reckon I been a heap of bother to you-all," said Yancy.
+
+"La, no," Polly assured him; "you ain't been."
+
+And now the six little Cavendishes appeared on the scene. The pore
+gentleman had come to--sho! He had got his senses back--sho! he wa'n't
+goin' to die after all; he could talk. Sho! a body could hear him plain!
+Excited beyond measure they scurried about in their fluttering rags of
+nightgowns for a sight and hearing of the pore gentleman. They struggled
+madly to climb over their parents, and failing this--under them. But the
+opening that served as a door to the shanty being small, and being as it
+was completely stoppered by their father and mother who were in no mood
+to yield an inch, they distributed themselves in quest of convenient
+holes in the bark edifice through which to peer at the pore gentleman.
+And since the number of youthful Cavendishes exceeded the number of such
+holes, the sound of lamentation and recrimination presently filled the
+morning air.
+
+"I kin see the soles of his feet!" shrieked Keppel with passionate
+intensity, his small bleached eye glued to a crack.
+
+He was instantly ravished of the sight by Henry.
+
+"You mean hateful thing!--just because you're bigger than Kep!" and
+Constance fell on the spoiler. As her mother's right-hand man she
+had cuffed and slapped her way to a place of power among the little
+brothers.
+
+Mr. Cavendish appeared to allay hostilities.
+
+"I 'low I'll skin you if you don't keep still! Dress!--the whole kit and
+b'ilin' of you!" he roared, and his manner was quite as ferocious as his
+words.
+
+But the six little Cavendishes were impressed by neither. They instantly
+fastened on him like so many leeches. What was the pore gentleman
+saying?--why couldn't they hear, too? Then they'd keep still, sure they
+would! Did he say he knowed who throwed him in the river?
+
+"I wonder, Connie, you ain't able to do more with these here children.
+Seems like you ought to--a great big girl like you," said Mr. Cavendish,
+reduced to despair.
+
+"It was Henry pickin' on Kep," cried Constance.
+
+"I found a crack and he took it away from me! drug me off by the legs,
+he did, and filled my stomach full of slivers!" wailed Keppel, suddenly
+remembering he had a grievance. "You had ought to let me see the pore
+gentleman!" he added ingratiatingly.
+
+"Well, ain't you been seein' him every day fo' risin' two weeks and
+upwards?--ain't you sat by him hours at a stretch?" demanded Mr.
+Cavendish fiercely.
+
+Sho--that didn't count, he only kept a mutterin'--sho!--arollin' his
+head sideways, sho! And their six tow heads were rolled to illustrate
+their meaning. And a-pluckin' at a body's hands!--and they plucked at
+Mr. Cavendish's hands. Sho--did he say why he done that?
+
+"If you-all will quit yo' noise and dress, you-all kin presently set by
+the pore gentleman. If you don't, I'll have to speak to yo' mother; I
+'low she'll trim you! I reckon you-all don't want me to call her? No, by
+thunderation!--because you-all know she won't stand no nonsense! She'll
+fan you; she'll take the flat of her hand to you-all and make you skip
+some; I reckon I'd get into my pants befo' she starts on the warpath. I
+wouldn't give her no such special opportunity as you're offerin'!"
+Mr. Cavendish's voice and manner had become entirely confidential and
+sympathetic, and though fear of their mother could not be said to bulk
+high on their horizon, yet the small Cavendishes were persuaded by sheer
+force of his logic to withdraw and dress. Their father hurried back to
+Yancy.
+
+"I was just thinkin', sir," he said, "that if it would be any comfort to
+you, we'll tie up to the bank right here and wait until you can travel.
+I'm powerfully annoyed at having fetched you all this way!"
+
+But Yancy shook his head.
+
+"I'll be glad to go on to Memphis with you. If my nevvy got away from
+Murrell, that's where I'll find him. I reckon folks will be kind to him
+and sort of help him along. Why, he ain't much mo' than knee high!"
+
+"Shore they will! there's a lot of good in the world, so don't you fret
+none about him!" cried Polly.
+
+"I can't do much else, ma'am, than think of him bein' lonesome and
+hungry, maybe--and terribly frightened. What do you-all suppose he
+thought when he woke up and found me gone?" But neither Polly nor her
+husband had any opinion to venture on this point. "If I don't find him
+in Memphis I'll take the back track to No'th Carolina, stoppin' on the
+way to see that man Slosson."
+
+"Well, I 'low there's a fit comin' to him when he gets sight of you!"
+and Cavendish's bleached blue eyes sparkled at the thought.
+
+"There's a heap mo' than a fit. I don't bear malice, but I stay mad a
+long time," answered Yancy grimly:
+
+"You shouldn't talk no mo'," said Polly. "You must just lay quiet
+and get yo' strength back. Now, I'm goin' to fix you a good meal of
+vittles." She motioned Cavendish to follow her, and they both withdrew
+from the shanty.
+
+Yancy closed his eyes, and presently, lulled by the soft ripple that
+bore them company, fell into a restful sleep.
+
+"When he told us of his nevvy, Dick, and I got to thinkin' of his bein'
+just the age of our Richard, I declare it seemed like something got in
+my throat and I'd choke. Do you reckon he'll ever find him?" said Polly,
+as she busied herself with preparations for their breakfast.
+
+"I hope so, Polly!" said Cavendish, but her words were a powerful
+assault on his feelings, which at all times lay close to the surface and
+were easily stirred.
+
+Under stress of his emotions, he now enjoined silence on his family,
+fortifying the injunction with dire threats as to the consequences that
+would descend with lightning--like suddenness on the head of the
+unlucky sinner who forgot and raised his voice above a whisper. Then he
+despatched a chicken; sure sign that he and Polly considered their guest
+had reached the first stage of convalescence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. AN ORPHAN MAN OF TITLE
+
+
+The raft drifted on into the day's heat; and when at last Yancy awoke,
+it was to find Henry and Keppel seated beside him, each solacing him
+with a small moist hand, while they regarded him out of the serious
+unblinking eyes of childhood.
+
+"Howdy!" said he, smiling up at them.
+
+"Howdy!" they answered, a sociable grin puckering their freckled faces.
+
+"Do you find yo'self pretty well, sir?" inquired Keppel.
+
+"I find myself pretty weak," replied Yancy.
+
+"Me and Kep has been watching fo' to keep the flies from stinging you,"
+explained Henry.
+
+"We-all takes turns doin' that," Keppel added.
+
+"Well, and how many of you-all are there?" asked Yancy.
+
+"There's six of we-uns and the baby."
+
+They covertly examined this big bearded man who had lost his nevvy, and
+almost his life. They had overheard their father and mother discuss
+his plans and knew when he was recovered from his wounds if he did not
+speedily meet up with his nevvy at a place called Memphis, he was going
+back to Lincoln County, which was near where they came from, to have the
+hide off a gentleman of the name of Slosson. They imagined the gentleman
+named Slosson would find the operation excessively disagreeable; and
+that Yancy should be recuperating for so unique an enterprise invested
+him with a romantic interest. Henry squirmed closer to the recumbent
+figure on the bed.
+
+"Me and Kep would like mighty well to know how you-all are goin' to
+strip the hide offen to that gentleman's back," he observed.
+
+Yancy instantly surmised that the reference was to Slosson.
+
+"I reckon I'll feel obliged to just naturally skin him," he explained.
+
+"Sho', will he let you do that?" they demanded.
+
+"He won't be consulted none. And his hide will come off easy once I get
+hold of him by the scruff of the neck." Yancy's speech was gentle and
+his lips smiling, but he meant a fair share of what he said.
+
+"Sho', is that the way you do it?" And round-eyed they gazed down on
+this fascinating stranger.
+
+"I may have to touch him up with a tickler," continued Yancy, who did
+not wish to prove disappointing. "I reckon you-all know what a tickler
+is?"
+
+They nodded.
+
+"What if Mr. Slosson totes a tickler, too?" asked Keppel insinuatingly.
+This opened an inviting field for conjecture.
+
+"That won't make no manner of difference. Why? Because it's a powerful
+drawback fo' a man to know he's in the wrong, just as it's a heap in yo'
+favor to know you're in the right."
+
+"My father's got a tickler; I seen it often," vouchsafed Henry.
+
+"It's a foot long, with a buck horn handle. Gee whiz!--he keeps it keen;
+but he never uses it on no humans," said Keppel.
+
+"Of course he don't; he's a high-spirited, right-actin' gentleman.
+But what do you reckon he'd feel obliged to do if a body stole one of
+you-all?" inquired Yancy.
+
+"Whoop! He'd carve 'em deep!" cried Keppel.
+
+At this moment Mrs. Cavendish appeared, bringing Yancy's breakfast. In
+her wake came Connie with the baby, and the three little brothers who
+were to be accorded the cherished privilege of seeing the poor gentleman
+eat.
+
+"You got a nice little family, ma'am," said Yancy.
+
+"Well, I reckon nobody complains mo' about their children than me, but
+I reckon nobody gets mo' comfort out of their children either. I hope
+you-all are a-goin' to be able to eat, you ain't had much nourishment.
+La, does yo' shoulder pain you like that? Want I should feed you?"
+
+"I am sorry, ma'am, but I reckon you'll have to," Yancy spoke
+regretfully. "I expect I been a passel of bother to you."
+
+"No, you ain't. Here's Dick to see how you make out with the chicken,"
+Polly added, as Cavendish presented himself at the opening that did duty
+as a door.
+
+"This looks like bein' alive, stranger," he commented genially. He
+surveyed the group of which Yancy was the center. "If them children gets
+too numerous, just throw 'em out."
+
+"You-all ain't told me yo' name yet?" said Yancy.
+
+"It's Cavendish. Richard Keppel Cavendish, to get it all off my mind at
+a mouthful. And this lady's Mrs. Cavendish."
+
+"My name's Yancy--Bob Yancy."
+
+Mr. Cavendish exchanged glances with Mrs. Cavendish. By a nod of her
+dimpled chin the lady seemed to urge some more extended confidence on
+his part. Chills and Fever seated himself at the foot of Yancy's bed.
+
+"Stranger, what I'm a-goin' to tell you, you'll take as bein' said man
+to man," he began, with the impressive air of one who had a secret of
+great moment to impart; and Yancy hastened to assure him that whatever
+passed between them, his lips should be sealed. "It ain't really that,
+but I don't wish to appear proud afo' no man's, eyes. First, I want to
+ask you, did you ever hear tell of titles?"
+
+Polly and the children hung breathlessly on Mr. Yancy's reply.
+
+"I certainly have," he rejoined promptly. "Back in No'th Carolina we
+went by the chimneys."
+
+"Chimneys? What's chimneys got to do with titles, Mr. Yancy?" asked
+Polly, while her husband appeared profoundly mystified.
+
+"A whole lot, ma'am. If a man had two chimneys to his house we always
+called him Colonel, if there was four chimneys we called him General."
+
+"La!" cried Polly, smiling and showing a number of new dimples. "Dick
+don't mean militia titles, Mr. Yancy."
+
+"Them's the only ones I know anything of," confessed Yancy.
+
+"Ever hear tell of lords?" inquired Chills and Fever, tilting his head
+on one side.
+
+"No." And Yancy was quick to notice the look of disappointment on the
+faces of his new friends. He felt that for some reason, which was by no
+means clear to him, he had lost caste.
+
+"Are you ever heard of royalty?" and Cavendish fixed the invalid's
+wandering glance.
+
+"You mean kings?"
+
+"I shore do."
+
+Yancy regarded him reflectively and made a mighty mental effort.
+
+"There's them Bible kings--" he ventured at length.
+
+Mr. Cavendish shook his head.
+
+"Them's sacred kings. Are you familiar with any of the profane kings,
+Mr. Yancy?"
+
+"Well, taking them as they come, them Bible kings seemed to average
+pretty profane." Yancy was disposed to defend this point.
+
+"You must a heard of the kings of England. Sho', wa'n't any of yo' folks
+in the war agin' him?"
+
+"I'd plumb forgot, why my daddy fit all through that war!" exclaimed
+Yancy. The Cavendishes were immensely relieved. Polly beamed on the
+invalid, and the children hunched closer. Six pairs of eager lips were
+trembling on the verge of speech.
+
+"Now you-all keep still," said Cavendish. "I want Mr. Yancy should get
+the straight of this here! The various orders of royalty are kings,
+dukes, earls and lords. Earls is the third from the top of the heap, but
+lords ain't no slouch; it's a right neat little title, and them that has
+it can turn round in most any company."
+
+"Dick had ought to know, fo' he's an earl himself," cried Polly
+exultantly, unable to restrain herself any longer, while a mutter came
+from the six little Cavendishes who had been wonderfully silent for
+them.
+
+"Sho', Richard Keppel Cavendish, Earl of Lambeth! 'Sho', that was what
+he was! Sho'!" and some transient feeling of awe stamped itself upon
+their small faces as they viewed the long and limber figure of their
+parent.
+
+"Is that mo' than a Colonel?" Yancy risked the question hesitatingly,
+but he felt that speech was expected from him.
+
+"Yes," said the possessor of the title.
+
+"Would a General lay it over you any?"
+
+"No, sir, he wouldn't."
+
+Yancy gazed respectfully but uncertainly at Chills and Fever.
+
+"Then all I got to say is that I've traveled considerably, mostly
+between Scratch Hill and Balaam's Cross Roads, meeting with all kinds of
+folks; but I never seen an earl afo. I take it they are some scarce."
+
+"They are. I don't reckon there's another one but me in the whole United
+States."
+
+"Think of that!" gasped Yancy.
+
+"We ain't nothin' fo' style, it bein' my opinion that where a man's a
+born gentleman he's got a heap of reason fo' to be grateful but none to
+brag," said Cavendish.
+
+"Dick's kind of titles are like having red hair and squint eyes. Once
+they get into a family they stick," explained Polly.
+
+"I've noticed that, 'specially about squint eyes." Yancy was glad to
+plant his feet on familiar ground.
+
+"These here titles go to the eldest son. He begins by bein' a viscount,"
+continued Chills and Fever. He wished Yancy to know the full measure of
+their splendor.
+
+"And their wives are ladies-ain't they, Dick?"
+
+Cavendish nodded.
+
+"Anybody with half an eye would know you was a lady, ma'am," said Yancy.
+
+"Kep here is an Honorable, same as a senator or a congressman,"
+Cavendish went on.
+
+"At his age, too!" commented Yancy.
+
+"And my daughter's the Lady Constance," said Polly.
+
+"Havin' such a mother she ain't no choice," observed Yancy, with an air
+of gentle deference.
+
+"Dick's got the family, Mr. Yancy. My folks, the Rhetts, was plain
+people."
+
+"Some of 'em ain't so noticeably plain, either," said Yancy.
+
+"Sho', you've a heap of good sense, Mr. Yancy!" and Cavendish shook him
+warmly by the hand. "The first time I ever seen her, I says, I'll marry
+that lady if it takes an arm! Well, it did most of the time while I was
+co'tin' her."
+
+"La!" cried Polly, blushing furiously. "You shouldn't tell that, Dick.
+Mr. Yancy ain't interested."
+
+"Yes, sir, I'd been hearin' about old man Rhett's Polly fo' considerable
+of a spell," said Cavendish, looking at Polly reflectively. "He lived up
+at the head waters of the Elk River. Fellows who had been to his place,
+when girls was mentioned would sort of shake their heads sad-like and
+say, 'Yes, but you had ought to see old man Rhett's Polly, all the rest
+is imitations!' Seemed like they couldn't get her off their minds. So
+I just slung my kit to my back, shouldered my rifle, and hoofed it
+up-stream. I says, I'll see for myself where this here paragon lays it
+all over the rest of her sect, but sho--the closter I came to old man
+Rhett the mo' I heard of Polly!"
+
+"Dick, how you do run on," cried Polly protestingly, but Chills and
+Fever's knightly soul dwelt in its illusions, and the years had not
+made stale his romance. Also Polly was beaming on him with a wealth of
+affection.
+
+"I seen her fo' the first time as I was warmin' the trail within a mile
+of old man Rhett's. She was carrying a grist of co'n down to the mill
+in her father's ox cart. When I clapped eyes on her I says, 'I'll marry
+that lady. I'll make her the Countess of Lambeth--she'll shore do fo'
+the peerage any day!' That was yo' mommy, sneezic's!" Mr. Cavendish
+paused to address himself to the baby whom Connie had relinquished to
+him.
+
+"You bet I made time the rest of the way. I says, 'She's sixteen if
+she's a day, and all looks!' I broke into old man Rhett's clearin' on a
+keen run. He was a settin' afo' his do' smokin' his pipe and he glanced
+me over kind of weary-like and says, 'Howdy!' It wa'n't much of a
+greetin' the way he said it either; but I figured it was some better
+than bein' chased off the place. So I stepped indo's, stood my rifle in
+a corner and hung up my cap. He was watchin' me and presently he drawled
+out, 'Make yo'self perfectly at home, stranger.'
+
+"I says, 'Squire'--he wa'n't a squire, but they called him that--I says,
+'Squire, my name's Cavendish. Let's get acquainted quick. I'm here fo'
+to co'te yo' Polly. I seen her on the road a spell back and I couldn't
+be better suited.'
+
+"He says, 'You had ought to be kivered up in salt, young man, else yo'll
+spile in this climate.'
+
+"I says, 'I'll keep in any climate.'
+
+"He says, 'Polly ain't givin' her thoughts much to marryin', she's busy
+keepin' house fo' her pore old father.'
+
+"I says, 'I've come here special fo' to arouse them thoughts you
+mention. If I seem slow.'
+
+"He says, 'You don't. If this is yo' idea of bein' slow, I'd wish to
+avoid you when you was in a hurry.'
+
+"I says, 'Put in yo' spare moments thinkin' up a suitable blessin' fo'
+us.'
+
+"He says, 'You'll have yo' hands full. There's a number of young fellows
+hereabouts that you don't lay it over none in p'int of freshness or
+looks.'
+
+"I says, 'Does she encourage any of 'em?'
+
+"He says, 'Nope, she don't. Ain't I been tellin' you she's givin' her
+mind to keepin' house fo' her pore old father?'
+
+"I says, 'If she don't encourage 'em none, she shore must disencourage
+'em. I 'low she gets my help in that.'
+
+"He says, 'They'll run you so far into the mountings, Mr. Cavendish,
+you'll never be heard tell of again in these parts.'
+
+"I says, 'I'll bust the heads offen these here galoots if they try
+that!'
+
+"He asks, grinnin', 'Have you arranged how yo' remains are to be sent
+back to yo' folks?'
+
+"I says, 'I'm an orphan man of title, a peer of England, and you can
+leave me lay if it cones to that.'
+
+"'Well,'. he says, 'if them's yo' wishes, the buzzards as good as got
+you."' Cavendish lapsed into a momentary silence. It was plain that
+these were cherished memories.
+
+"That's what I call co'tin!" remarked Mr. Yancy, with conviction.
+
+The Earl of Lambeth resumed
+
+"It was as bad as old man Rhett said it was. Sundays his do'yard looked
+like a militia muster. They told it on him that he hadn't cut a stick
+of wood since Polly was risin' twelve. I reckon, without exaggeration,
+I fit every unmarried man in that end of the county, and two lookin'
+widowers from Nashville. I served notice on to them that I'd attend to
+that woodpile of old man Rhett's fo' the future; that I was qualifying
+fo' to be his son-in-law, and seekin' his indorsement as a provider. I
+took 'em on one at a time as they happened along, and lambasted 'em all
+over the place. As fo' the Nashville widowers," said Cavendish with a
+chuckle, and a nod to Polly, "I pretty nigh drownded one of 'em in the
+Elk. We met in mid-stream and fit it out there; and the other quit the
+county. That was fo'teen years ago; but, mind you, I'd do it all over
+again to-morrow."
+
+"But, Dick, you ain't telling Mr. Yancy nothin' about yo' title,"
+expostulated Polly.
+
+"I'd admire to hear mo' about that," said Yancy.
+
+"I'm gettin' round to that. It was my great grandfather come over here
+from England. His name was Richard Keppel Cavendish, same as mine is.
+He lived back yonder on the Carolina coast and went to raisin' tobacco.
+I've heard my grandfather tell how he'd heard folks say his father was
+always hintin' in his licker that he was a heap better than he seemed,
+and if people only knowed the truth about him they'd respect him mo',
+and mebby treat him better. Well, sir, he married and riz a family;
+there was my grandfather and a passel of girls--and that crop of
+children was the only decent crop he ever riz. I've heard my grandfather
+tell how, when he got old enough to notice such things, he seen that his
+father had the look of a man with something mysterious hangin' over him,
+but he couldn't make it out what it was, though he gave it a heap of
+study. He seen, too, that let him get a taste of licker and he'd begin
+to throw out them hints, how if folks only knowed the truth they'd be
+just naturally fallin' over themselves fo' to do him a favor, instead of
+pickin' on him and tryin' to down him.
+
+"My grandfather said he never knowed a man, either, with the same
+aversion agin labor as his father had. Folks put it down to laziness,
+but they misjudged him, as come out later, yet he never let on. He just
+went around sorrowful-like, and when there was a piece of work fo' him
+to do he'd spend a heap of time studyin' it, or mebby he'd just set
+and look at it until he was ready fo' to give it up. Appeared like he
+couldn't bring himself down to toil.
+
+"Then one day he got his hands on a paper that had come acrost in a ship
+from England. He was readin' it, settin' in the shade; my grandfather
+said he always noticed he was partial to the shade, and his wife was
+pesterin' of him fo' to go and plow out his truck-patch, when, all at
+once, he lit on something in the paper, and he started up and let out
+a yell like he'd been shot. 'By gum, I'm the Earl of Lambeth!' he says,
+and took out to the nearest tavern and got b'ilin' full. Afterward he
+showed 'em the paper and they seen with their own eyes where Richard
+Keppel Cavendish, Earl of Lambeth, had died in London. My great
+grandfather told 'em that was his uncle; that when he left home there
+was several cousins--which was printed in the paper, too--but they'd up
+and died, so the title naturally come to him.
+
+"Well, sir, that was the first the family ever knowed of it, and then
+they seen what it was he'd meant when he throwed out them hints about
+bein' a heap better than he seemed. He said perhaps he wouldn't never
+have told, only he couldn't bear to be misjudged like he'd always been.
+
+"He never done a lick of work after that. He said he couldn't bring
+himself down to it; that it was demeanin' fo' a person of title fo' to
+labor with his hands like a nigger or a common white man. He said he'd
+leave it to his family to see he didn't come to want, it didn't so much
+matter about them; and he lived true to his principles to the day of his
+death, and never riz his hand except to feed himself."
+
+Cavendish paused. Yancy was feeling that in his own person he had
+experienced some of the best symptoms of a title.
+
+"Then what?" he asked.
+
+"Well, sir, he lived along like that, never complainin', my grandfather
+said, but mighty sweet and gentlelike as long as there was plenty to eat
+in the house. He lived to be nigh eighty, and when he seen he was
+goin' to die he called my grandfather to him and says, 'She's yours,
+Dick,'--meanin' the title--and then he says, 'There's one thing I've
+kep' from you. You've been a viscount ever since I come into the title,
+and then he went on and explained what he wanted cut on his tombstone,
+and had my grandfather write it out, so there couldn't be any mistake.
+When he'd passed away, my grandfather took the title. He said it made
+him feel mighty solemn and grand-like, and it come over him all at once
+why it was his father hadn't no heart fo' work."
+
+"Does it always take 'em that way?" inquired Yancy.
+
+"It takes the Earls of Lambeth that way. I reckon you might say it was
+hereditary with 'em. Where was I at?"
+
+"Your grandpap, the second earl," prompted Polly.
+
+"Oh, yes--well, he 'lowed he'd emigrate back to England, but while
+he was studying how he could do this, along come the war. He said he
+couldn't afford to fight agin his king, so he pulled out and crossed the
+mountings to avoid being drug into the army. He said he couldn't let it
+get around that the Earls of Lambeth was shootin' English soldiers."
+
+"Of course he couldn't," agreed Yancy.
+
+"It's been my dream to take Polly and the children and go back to
+England and see the king about my title. I 'low he'd be some surprised
+to see us. I'd like to tell him, too, what the Earls of Lambeth done fo'
+him--that they was always loyal, and thought a heap better of him than
+their neighbors done, and mebby some better than he deserved. Don't you
+reckon that not hearin' from us, he's got the notion the Cavendishes has
+petered out?"
+
+Mr. Yancy considered this likely, and said so.
+
+"You might send him writin' in a letter," he suggested.
+
+The furious shrieking of a steam-packet's whistle broke in upon them.
+
+"It's another of them hawgs, wantin' all the river!" said Mr. Cavendish,
+and fled in haste to the steering oar.
+
+During all the long days that followed, Mr. Yancy was forced to own
+that these titled friends of his were, despite their social position,
+uncommon white in their treatment of him. The Earl of Lambeth consorted
+with him in that fine spirit that recognizes the essential brotherhood
+of man, while his Lady Countess was, as Yancy observed, on the whole, a
+person of simple and uncorrupted tastes. She habitually went barefoot,
+both as a matter of comfort and economy, and she smoked her cob-pipe as
+did those other ladies of Lincoln County who had married into far less
+exalted stations than her own. He put these simple survivals down to
+her native goodness of heart, which would not allow of her succumbing
+to mere pride and vainglory, for he no more doubted their narrative than
+they, doubted it themselves, which was not at all.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. THE JUDGE SEES A GHOST
+
+
+Charley Norton's good offices did not end when he had furnished judge
+Price with a house, for Betty required of him that he should supply
+that gentleman with legal business as well. When she pointed out the
+necessity of this, Norton demurred. He had no very urgent need of a
+lawyer, and had the need existed, Slocum Price would not have been his
+choice. Betty knit her brows.
+
+"He must have a chance; perhaps if people knew you employed him it would
+give them confidence--you must realize this, Charley; it isn't enough
+that he has a house--he can't wear it nor eat it!"
+
+"And fortunately he can't drink it, either. I don't want to discourage
+you, but his looks are all against him, Betty. If you take too great
+an interest in his concerns I am afraid you are going to have him
+permanently on your hands."
+
+"Haven't you some little scrap of business that really doesn't matter
+much, Charley? You might try him--just to please me--" she persisted
+coaxingly.
+
+"Well, there's land I'm buying--I suppose I could get him to look up the
+title, I know it's all right anyhow," said Norton, after a pause.
+
+Thus it happened that judge Price, before he had been three days in
+Raleigh, received a civil note from Mr. Norton asking him to search
+the title to a certain timber tract held by one Joseph Quaid; a
+communication the effect of which was out of all proportion to the size
+of the fee involved. The judge, powerfully excited, told Mahaffy he
+was being understood and appreciated; that the tide of prosperity was
+clearly setting his way; that intelligent foresight, not chance, had
+determined him when he selected Raleigh instead of Memphis. Thereafter
+he spoke of Charley Norton only as "My client," and exalted him for his
+breeding, wealth and position, refusing to admit that any man in the
+county was held in quite the same esteem. All of which moved Mahaffy to
+flashes of grim sarcasm.
+
+The immediate result of Norton's communication had been to send the
+judge up the street to the courthouse. He would show his client that he
+could be punctual and painstaking. He should have his abstract of title
+without delay; moreover, he had in mind a scholarly effort entirely
+worthy of himself. The dull facts should be illuminated with an
+occasional striking phrase. He considered that it would doubtless be of
+interest to Mr. Norton, in this connection, to know something, too, of
+mediaeval land tenure, ancient Roman and modern English. He proposed
+artfully to pander to his client's literary tastes--assuming that he had
+such tastes. But above all, this abstract must be entirely explanatory
+of himself, since its final purpose was to remove whatever doubts his
+mere appearance might have bred in Mr. Norton's mind.
+
+"If my pocket could just be brought to stand the strain of new clothes
+before the next sitting of court, I might reasonably hope for a share of
+the pickings," thought the judge.
+
+Entering the court-house, he found himself in a narrow hall. On his
+right was the jury-room, and on his left the county clerk's office,
+stuffy little holes, each lighted by a single window. Beyond, and
+occupying the full width of the building, was the court-room, with its
+hard, wooden benches and its staring white walls. Advancing to the door,
+which stood open, the judge surveyed the room with the greatest possible
+satisfaction. He could fancy it echoing to that eloquence of which he
+felt himself to be the master. He would show the world, yet, what was
+in him, and especially Solomon Mahaffy, who clearly had not taken his
+measure.
+
+Turning away from the agreeable picture his mind had conjured up,
+he entered the county clerk's office. He was already known to this
+official, whose name was Saul, and he now greeted him with a pleasant
+air of patronage. Mr. Saul removed his feet from the top of his desk and
+motioned his visitor to a chair; at the same time he hospitably thrust
+forward a square box filled with sawdust. It was plain he labored under
+the impression that the judge's call was of an unprofessional character.
+
+"A little matter of business brings me here, sir," began the judge,
+with a swelling chest and mellow accents. "No, sir, I'll not be
+seated--another time I'll share your leisure if I may--now I am in some
+haste to look up a title for my client, Mr. Norton."
+
+"What Norton?" asked Mr. Saul, when he had somewhat recovered from the
+effect of this announcement.
+
+"Mr. Charles Norton, of Thicket Point," said the judge.
+
+"I reckon you mean that timber tract of old Joe Quaid's." Mr. Saul
+viewed the judge's ruinous exterior with a glance of respectful awe,
+for clearly a man who could triumph over such a handicap must possess
+uncommon merit of some sort. "So you're looking after Charley Norton's
+business for him, are you?" he added.
+
+"He's a client of mine. We have mutual friends, sir--I refer to Miss
+Malroy," the judge vouchsafed to explain.
+
+"You're naming our best people, sir, when you name the Malroys and the
+Nortons; they are pretty much in a class by themselves," said Mr. Saul,
+whose awe of the judge was momentarily increasing.
+
+"I don't underestimate the value of a social endorsement, sir, but
+I've never stood on that," observed the judge. "I've come amongst you
+unheralded, but I expect you to find me out. Now, sir, if you'll be good
+enough, I'll glance at the record."
+
+Mr. Saul scrambled up out of the depths of his chair and exerted himself
+in the judge's behalf.
+
+"This is what you want, sir. Better take the ledger to the window, the
+light in here ain't much." He drew forward a chair as he spoke, and
+the judge, seating himself, began to polish his spectacles with great
+deliberation. He felt that he had reached a crisis in his career, and
+was disposed to linger over the hope that was springing up in his heart.
+
+"How does the docket for the next term of court stand?" he inquired.
+
+"Pretty fair, sir," said Mr. Saul.
+
+"Any litigation of unusual interest in prospect?" The judge was fitting
+his glasses to the generous arch of his nose, a feature which nicely
+indexed its owner's habits.
+
+"No, sir, just the ordinary run of cases."
+
+"I hoped to hear you say different."
+
+"You've set on the bench, sir?" suggested Mr. Saul.
+
+"In one of the eastern counties, but my inclination has never been
+toward the judiciary. My temperament, sir, is distinctly aggressive--and
+each one according to the gifts with which God has been graciously
+pleased to endow him! I am frank to say, however, that my decisions have
+received their meed of praise from men thoroughly competent to speak
+on such matters." He was turning the leaves of the ledger as he spoke.
+Suddenly the movement of his hand was arrested.
+
+"Found it?" asked Mr. Saul. But the judge gave him no answer; absorbed
+and aloof he was staring down at the open pages of the book. "Found the
+entry?" repeated Mr. Saul.
+
+"Eh?--what's that? No--" he appeared to hesitate. "Who is this man
+Quintard?" The question cost him an effort, that was plain.
+
+"He's the owner of a hundred-thousand-acre tract in this and abutting
+counties," said Mr. Saul.
+
+The judge continued to stare down at the page.
+
+"Is he a resident of the county?" he asked, at length.
+
+"No, he lives back yonder in North Carolina."
+
+"A hundred thousand acres!" the judge muttered thoughtfully.
+
+"There or thereabouts--yes, sir."
+
+"Who has charge of the land?"
+
+"Colonel Fentress; he was old General Ware's law partner. I've heard it
+was the general who got this man Quintard to make the investment, but
+that was before my time in these parts."
+
+The judge lapsed into a heavy, brooding silence.
+
+A step sounded in the narrow hall. An instant later the door was pushed
+open, and grateful for any interruption that would serve to take Mr.
+Saul's attention from himself, the judge abruptly turned his back on the
+clerk and began to examine the record before him. Engrossed in this, he
+was at first scarcely aware of the conversation that was being carried
+on within a few feet of him. Insensibly, however, the cold, level tones
+of the voice that was addressing itself to Mr. Saul quickened the beat
+of his pulse, the throb of his heart, and struck back through the years
+to a day from which he reckoned time. The heavy, calf-bound volume in
+his hand shook like a leaf in a gale. He turned slowly, as if in dread
+of what he might see.
+
+What he saw was a man verging on sixty, lean and dark, with thin, shaven
+cheeks of a bluish cast above the jaw, and a strongly aquiline profile.
+Long, black locks swept the collar of his coat, while his tall, spare
+figure was habited in sleek broadcloth and spotless linen. For a moment
+the judge seemed to struggle with doubt and uncertainty, then his face
+went a ghastly white and the book slipped from his nerveless fingers to
+the window ledge.
+
+The stranger, his business concluded, swung about on his heel and
+quitted the office. The judge, his eyes starting from their sockets,
+stared after him; the very breath died on his lips; speechless and
+motionless, he was still seeing that tall, spare figure as it had passed
+before him, but his memories stripped a weight of thirty years from
+those thin shoulders. At last, heavy-eyed and somber, he glanced about
+him. Mr. Saul, bending above his desk, was making an entry in one of his
+ledgers. The judge shuffled to his side.
+
+"Who was that man?" he asked thickly, resting a shaking hand on the
+clerk's arm.
+
+"That?--Oh, that was Colonel Fentress I was just telling you about." He
+looked up from his writing. "Hello! You look like you'd seen a ghost!"
+
+"It's the heat in here--I reckon--" said the judge, and began to mop his
+face.
+
+"Ever seen the colonel before?" asked Mr. Saul curiously.
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"Well, sir, he's one of our leading planters, and a mighty fine lawyer."
+
+"Has he always lived here?"
+
+"No, he came into the county about ten years ago, and bought a place
+called The Oaks, over toward the river."
+
+"Has he--has he a family?" The judge appeared to be having difficulty
+with his speech.
+
+"Not that anybody knows of. Some say he's a widower, others again say
+he's an old bachelor; but he don't say nothing, for the colonel is as
+close as wax about his own affairs. So it's pure conjecture, sir." There
+was a brief silence. "The county has its conundrums, and the colonel's
+one of them," resumed Mr. Saul.
+
+"Yes?" said the judge.
+
+"The colonel's got his friends, to be sure, but he don't mix much with
+the real quality."
+
+"Why not?" asked the judge.
+
+"He's apparently as high-toned a gentleman as you'd meet with anywhere;
+polished, sir, so smooth your fingers would slip if you tried to take
+hold of him, but it's been commented on that when a horsethief or
+counterfeiter gets into trouble the colonel's always first choice for
+counsel."
+
+"Get's 'em off, does he?" The judge spoke somewhat grimly.
+
+"Mighty nigh always. But then he has most astonishing luck in the
+matter of witnesses. That's been commented on too." The judge nodded
+comprehendingly. "I reckon you'd call Tom Ware, out at Belle Plain,
+one of Fentress' closest friends. He's another of your conundrums. I
+wouldn't advise you to be too curious about the colonel."
+
+"Why not?" The judge was frowning now.
+
+"It will make you unpopular with a certain class. Those of us who've
+been here long enough have learned that there are some of these
+conundrums we'd best not ask an answer for."
+
+The judge pondered this.
+
+"Do you mean to tell me, sir, that freedom of speech is not allowed?" he
+demanded, with some show of heat.
+
+"Perfect freedom, if you pick and choose your topic," responded Mr.
+Saul.
+
+"Humph!" ejaculated the judge.
+
+"Now you might talk to me with all the freedom you like, but I'd
+recommend you were cautious with strangers. There have been those who've
+talked freely that have been advised to keep still or harm would come of
+it."
+
+"And did harm come of it?" asked the judge.
+
+"They always kept still."
+
+"What do you mean by talking freely?"
+
+"Like asking how so and so got the money to buy his last batch of
+niggers," explained Mr. Saul rather vaguely.
+
+"And Colonel Fentress is one of those about whose affairs it is best not
+to show too much curiosity?"
+
+"He is, decidedly. His friends appear to set a heap by him. Another of
+his particular intimates is a gentleman by the name of Murrell."
+
+The judge nodded.
+
+"I've met him," he said briefly. "Does he belong hereabouts?"
+
+"No, hardly; he seems to hold a sort of roving commission. His home is,
+I believe, near Denmark, in Madison County."
+
+"What's his antecedents?"
+
+"He's as common a white man as ever came out of the hills, but he
+appears to stand well with Colonel Fentress."
+
+"Colonel Fentress!" The judge spat in sheer disgust.
+
+"You don't appear to fancy the colonel--" said Mr. Saul.
+
+"I don't fancy wearing a gag--and damned if I do!" cried the judge.
+
+"Oh, it ain't that exactly; it's just minding your own business. I
+reckon you'll find there's lot's to be said in favor of goin' ca'mly on
+attending strictly to your own affairs, sir," concluded Mr. Saul.
+
+Acting on a sudden impulse, the judge turned to the door. The business
+and the hope that had brought him there were forgotten. He muttered
+something about returning later, and hastily quitted the office.
+
+"Well, I reckon he's a conundrum too!" reflected Mr. Saul, as the door
+swung shut.
+
+In the hall the judge's steps dragged and his head was bowed. He was
+busy with his memories, memories that spanned the desolate waste of
+years in which he had walked from shame to shame, each blacker than the
+last. Then passion shook him.
+
+"Damn him--may God-for ever damn him!" he cried under his breath, in
+a fierce whisper. A burning mist before his eyes, he shuffled down the
+hall, down the steps, and into the shaded, trampled space that was known
+as the court-house yard. Here he paused irresolutely. Across the way was
+the gun-maker's shop, the weather-beaten sign came within range of
+his vision, and the dingy white letters on their black ground spelled
+themselves out. The words seemed to carry some message, for the judge,
+with his eyes fixed on the sign as on some beacon of hope, plunged
+across the dusty road and entered the shop.
+
+
+At supper that night it was plain to both Mr. Mahaffy and Hannibal
+that the judge was in a state of mind best described as beatific. The
+tenderest consideration, the gentlest courtesy flowed from him as from
+an unfailing spring; not that he was ever, even in his darkest hours,
+socially remiss, but there was now a special magnificence to his manner
+that bred suspicion in Mahaffy's soul. When he noted that the judge's
+shoes were extremely dusty, this suspicion shaped itself definitely. He
+was convinced that on the strength of his prospective fee the judge had
+gone to Belle Plain, for what purpose Mr. Mahaffy knew only too well.
+
+"It took you some time to get up that abstract, didn't it, Price?" he
+presently said, with artful indirection.
+
+"I shall go on with that in the morning, Solomon; my interest was
+dissipated this evening," rejoined the judge.
+
+"Looks as though you had devoted a good part of your time to
+pedestrianism," suggested Mahaffy.
+
+"Quite right, so I did, Solomon."
+
+"Were you at Belle Plain?" demanded Mahaffy harshly and with a black
+scowl. The judge had agreed to keep away from Belle Plain.
+
+"No, Solomon, you forget our pact."
+
+"Well, I am glad you remembered it."
+
+They finished supper, the dishes were cleared away and the candles
+lighted, when the judge produced a mysterious leather-covered case. This
+he placed upon the table and opened, and Mahaffy and Hannibal, who had
+drawn near, saw with much astonishment that it held a handsome pair of
+dueling pistols, together with all their necessary paraphernalia.
+
+"Where did you get 'em, Judge?--Oh, ain't they beautiful!" cried
+Hannibal, circling about the table in his excitement.
+
+"My dear lad, they were purchased only a few hours ago," said the judge
+quietly, as he began to load them.
+
+"For Heaven's sake, Price, do be careful!" warned Mahaffy, who had a
+horror of pistols that extended to no other species of firearm.
+
+"I shall observe all proper caution, Solomon," the judge assured him
+sweetly.
+
+"Judge, may I try 'em some day?" asked Hannibal.
+
+"Yes, my boy, that's part of a gentleman's education."
+
+"Well, look out you don't shoot him before his education begins,"
+snapped Mahaffy.
+
+"Where did you buy 'em?" Hannibal was dodging about the judge, the
+better to follow the operation of loading.
+
+"At the gunsmith's, dear lad. It occurred to me that we required small
+arms. If you'll stand quietly at my elbow and not hop around, you'll
+relieve Mr. Mahaffy's apprehension."
+
+"I declare, Price, you need a guardian, if ever a man did!" cried
+Mahaffy, in a tone of utter exasperation.
+
+"Why, Solomon?"
+
+"Why?--they are absolutely useless. It was a waste of good money that
+you'll be sorry about."
+
+"Bless you, Solomon--they ain't paid for!" said the judge, with a thick
+little chuckle.
+
+"I didn't do you the injustice to suppose they were; but you haven't any
+head for business; aren't you just that much nearer the time when not a
+soul here will trust you? That's just like you, to plunge ahead and use
+up your credit on gimcracks!" Mahaffy prided himself on his acquaintance
+with the basic principles of economics.
+
+"I can sell 'em again," observed the judge placidly.
+
+"For less than half what they are worth!--I never knew so poor a
+manager!"
+
+The pistols were soon loaded, and the judge turned to Hannibal.
+"I regretted that you were not with me out at Boggs' this evening,
+Hannibal; you would have enjoyed seeing me try these weapons there. Now
+carry a candle into the kitchen and place it on the table."
+
+Mahaffy laughed contemptuously, but was relieved to know the purpose to
+which the judge had devoted the afternoon.
+
+"What aspersion is rankling for utterance within you now, Solomon?" said
+the judge tolerantly. Assuming a position that gave him an unobstructed
+view across the two rooms, he raised the pistol in his hand and
+discharged it in that brief instant when he caught the candle's flame
+between the notches of the sight, but he failed to snuff the candle, and
+a look of bitter disappointment passed over his face. He picked up the
+other pistol. "This time--" he muttered under his breath.
+
+"Try blowing it out try the snuffers!" jeered Mahaffy.
+
+"This time!" repeated the judge, unheeding him, and as the pistol-shot
+rang out the light vanished. "By Heaven, I did it!" roared the judge,
+giving way to an uncontrollable burst of feeling. "I did it--and I can
+'do it again--light the candle, Hannibal!"
+
+He began to load the pistols afresh with feverish haste, and Mahaffy,
+staring at him in amazement, saw that of a sudden the sweat was dripping
+from him. But the judge's excitement prevented his attempting another
+shot at once, twice his hand was raised, twice it was lowered, the
+third time the pistol cracked and the candle's flame was blown level,
+fluttered for a brief instant, and went out.
+
+"Did I nick the tallow, Hannibal?" The judge spoke anxiously.
+
+"Yes, sir, both shots."
+
+"We must remedy that," said the judge. Then, as rapidly as he could
+load and fire, bullet after bullet was sent fairly through the flame,
+extinguishing it each time. Mahaffy was too astonished at this display
+of skill even to comment, while Hannibal's delight knew no bounds. "That
+will do!" said the judge at last. He glanced down at the pistol in his
+hand. "This is certainly a gentleman's weapon!" he murmured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE WARNING
+
+
+Norton had ridden down to Belle Plain ostensibly to view certain of
+those improvements that went so far toward embittering Tom Ware's
+existence. Gossip had it that he kept the road hot between the two
+places, and this was an added strain on the planter. But Norton did not
+go to Belle Plain to see Mr. Ware. If that gentleman had been the sole
+attraction, he would have made just one visit suffice; had it preceded
+his own, he would have attended Tom's funeral, and considered that he
+had done a very decent thing. On the present occasion he and Betty were
+strolling about the rehabilitated grounds, and Norton was exhibiting
+that interest and enthusiasm which Betty always expected of him.
+
+"You are certainly making the old place look up!" he said, as they
+passed out upon the terrace. He had noted casually when he rode up the
+lane half an hour before that a horse was tied near Ware's office; a man
+now issued from the building and swung himself into the saddle. Norton
+turned abruptly to Betty. "What's that fellow doing here?" he asked.
+
+"I suppose he comes to see Tom," said Betty.
+
+"Is he here often?"
+
+"Every day or so." Betty's tone was indifferent. For reasons which had
+seemed good and sufficient she had never discussed Captain Murrell with
+Norton.
+
+"Every day or so?" repeated Norton. "But you don't see him, Betty?"
+
+"No, of course I don't."
+
+"Tom has no business allowing that fellow around; if he don't know this
+some one ought to tell him!" Norton was working himself up into a fine
+rage.
+
+"He doesn't bother me, Charley, if that's what you're thinking of. Let's
+talk of something else."
+
+"He'd better not, or I'll make it a quarrel with him."
+
+"Oh, you mustn't think of that, Charley, indeed you mustn't!" cried
+Betty in some alarm, for young Mr. Norton was both impulsive and
+hot-headed.
+
+"Well, just how often is Murrell here?" he demanded.
+
+"I told you--every few days. He and Tom seem wonderfully congenial."
+
+They were silent for a moment.
+
+"Tom always sees him in his office," explained Betty. She might have
+made her explanation fuller on this point had she cared to do so.
+
+"That's the first decent thing I ever heard of Tom!" said Norton with
+warmth. "But he ought to kick him off the place the first chance he
+gets."
+
+"Do you think Belle Plain is ever going to look as it did, Charley?--as
+we remember it when we were children?" asked Betty, giving a new
+direction to the conversation.
+
+"Why, of course it is, dear, you are doing wonders!"
+
+"I've really been ashamed of the place, the way it looked--and I can't
+understand Tom!"
+
+"Don't try to," advised Norton. "Look here, Betty, do you remember
+it was right on this terrace I met you for the first time? My mother
+brought me down, and I arrived with a strong prejudice against you,
+young lady, because of the clothes I'd been put into--they were fine but
+oppressive."
+
+"How long did the prejudice last, Charley?"
+
+"It didn't last at all, I thought you altogether the nicest little girl
+I'd ever seen--just what I think now, I wish you could care for me,
+Betty, just a little; just enough to marry me."
+
+"But, Charley, I do care for you! I'm very, very fond of you."
+
+"Well, don't make such a merit of it," he said, and they both laughed.
+"I'm at an awful disadvantage, Betty, from having proposed so often.
+That gives it a humorous touch which doesn't properly reflect the state
+of my feeling at all--and you hear me without the least emotion; so long
+as I keep my distance we might just as well be discussing the weather!"
+
+"You are very good about that--"
+
+"Keeping my distance, you mean?--Betty, if you knew how much resolution
+that calls for! I wonder if that isn't my mistake--" And Norton came a
+step nearer and took her in his arms.
+
+With her hands on his shoulders Betty pushed him back, while the rich
+color came into her cheeks. She was remembering Bruce Carrington, who
+had not kept his distance.
+
+"Please, Charley," she said half angrily, "I do like you tremendously,
+but I simply can't bear you when you act like this--let me go!"
+
+"Betty, I despair of you ever caring for me!" and as Norton turned
+abruptly away he saw Tom Ware appear from about a corner of the house.
+"Oh, hang it, there's Tom!"
+
+"You are very nice, anyway, Charley--" said Betty hurriedly, fortified
+by the planter's approach.
+
+Ware stalked toward them. Having dined with Betty as recently as the day
+before, he contented himself with a nod in her direction. His greeting
+to Norton was a more ambitious undertaking; he said he was pleased to
+see him; but in so far as facial expression might have indorsed the
+statement this pleasure was well disguised, it did not get into his
+features. Pausing on the terrace beside them, he indulged in certain
+observations on the state of the crops and the weather.
+
+"You've lost a couple of niggers, I hear?" he added with an oblique
+glance.
+
+"Yes," said Norton.
+
+"Got on the track of them yet?" Norton shook his head. "I understand
+you've a new overseer?" continued Ware, with another oblique glance.
+
+"Then you understand wrong--Carrington's my guest," said Norton. "He's
+talking of putting in a crop for himself next season, so he's willing to
+help me make mine."
+
+Betty turned quickly at the mention of Carrington's name. She had known
+that he was still at Thicket Point, and having heard him spoken of
+as Norton's new overseer, had meant to ask Charley if he were really
+filling that position. An undefined sense of relief came to her with
+Norton's reply to Tom's question.
+
+"Going to turn farmer, is he?" asked Ware.
+
+"So he says." Feeling that the only subjects in which he had ever known
+Ware to take the slightest interest, namely, crops and slaves, were
+exhausted, Norton was extremely disappointed when the planter manifested
+a disposition to play the host and returned to the house with them,
+where his mere presence, forbidding and sullen, was such a hardship that
+Norton shortly took his leave.
+
+"Well, hang Tom!" he said, as he rode away from Belle Plain. "If he
+thinks he can freeze me out there's a long siege ahead of him!"
+
+Issuing from the lane he turned his face in the direction of home, but
+he did not urge his horse off a walk. To leave Belle Plain and Betty
+demanded always his utmost resolution. His way took him into the solemn
+twilight of untouched solitudes. A cool breath rippled through the
+depths of the woods and shaped its own soft harmonies where it lifted
+the great branches that arched the road. He crossed strips of bottom
+land where the water stood in still pools about the gnarled and
+moss-covered trunks of trees. At intervals down some sluggish inlet
+he caught sight of the yellow flood that was pouring past, or saw the
+Arkansas coast beyond, with its mighty sweep of unbroken forest that
+rose out of the river mists and blended with the gray distance that lay
+along the horizon.
+
+He was within two miles of Thicket Point when, passing about a sudden
+turn in the road, he found himself confronted by three men, and before
+he could gather up his reins which he held loosely, one of them had
+seized his horse by the bit. Norton was unarmed, he had not even a
+riding-whip. This being the case he prepared to make the best of an
+unpleasant situation which he felt he could not alter. He ran his eye
+over the three men.
+
+"I am sorry, gentlemen, but I reckon you have hold of the wrong
+person--"
+
+"Get down!" said one of the men briefly.
+
+"I haven't any money, that's why I say you have hold of the wrong
+person."
+
+"We don't want your money." The unexpectedness of this reply somewhat
+disturbed Norton.
+
+"What do you want, then?" he asked.
+
+"We got a word to say to you."
+
+"I can hear it in the saddle."
+
+"Get down!" repeated the man, a surly, bull-necked fellow. "Come--hurry
+up!" he added.
+
+Norton hesitated for an instant, then swung himself out of the saddle
+and stood in the road confronting the spokesman of the party.
+
+"Now, what do you wish to say to me?" he asked.
+
+"Just this--you keep away from Belle Plain."
+
+"You go to hell!" said Norton promptly. The man glowered heavily at hire
+through the gathering gloom of twilight.
+
+"We want your word that you'll keep away from Belle Plain," he said with
+sullen insistence.
+
+"Well, you won't get it!" responded Norton with quiet decision.
+
+"We won't?"
+
+"Certainly you won't!" Norton's eyes began to flash. He wondered
+if these were Tom Ware's emissaries. He was both quick-tempered and
+high-spirited. Falling back a step, he sprang forward and dealt the
+bullnecked man a savage blow. The latter grunted heavily but kept his
+feet. In the same instant one of the men who had never taken his eyes
+off Norton from the moment he quitted the saddle, raised his fist and
+struck the young planter in the back of the neck.
+
+"You cur!" cried Norton, blind and dizzy, as he wheeled on him.
+
+"Damn him--let him have it!" roared the bullnecked man.
+
+Afterward Norton was able to remember that the three rushed on him,
+that he was knocked down and kicked with merciless brutality, then
+consciousness left him. He lay very still in the trampled dust of the
+road. The bull-necked man regarded the limp figure in grim silence for a
+moment.
+
+"That'll do, he's had enough; we ain't to kill him this time," he said.
+An instant later he, with his two companions, had vanished silently into
+the woods.
+
+Norton's horse trotted down the road. When it entered the yard at
+Thicket Point half an hour later, Carrington was on the porch.
+
+"Is that you, Norton?" he called, but there was no response, and he saw
+the horse was riderless. "Jeff!" he cried, summoning Norton's servant
+from the house.
+
+"What's the matter, Mas'r?" asked the negro, as he appeared in the open
+door.
+
+"Why, here's Mr. Norton's horse come home without him. Do you know where
+he went this afternoon?"
+
+"I heard him say he reckoned he'd ride over to Belle Plain, Mas'r,"
+answered Jeff, grinning. "I 'low the hoss done broke away and come home
+by himself--he couldn't a-throwed Mas'r Charley!"
+
+"We'll make sure of that. Get lanterns, and a couple of the boys!" said
+Carrington.
+
+It was mid-afternoon of the day following before Betty heard of the
+attack on Charley Norton. Tom brought the news, and she at once ordered
+her horse saddled and was soon out on the river road with a black groom
+trailing along through the dust in her wake. Tom's version of the attack
+was that Charley, had been robbed and all but murdered, and Betty never
+drew rein until she reached Thicket Point. As she galloped into the yard
+Bruce Carrington came from the house. At sight of the girl, with her
+wind-blown halo of bright hair, he paused uncertainly. By a gesture
+Betty called him to her side.
+
+"How is Mr. Norton?" she asked, extending her hand.
+
+"The doctor says he'll be up and about inside of a week, anyhow, Miss
+Malroy," said Carrington.
+
+Betty gave a great sigh of relief.
+
+"Then his hurts are not serious?"
+
+"No," said Carrington, "they are not in any sense serious."
+
+"May I see him?"
+
+"He's pretty well bandaged up, so he looks worse off than he is. If
+you'll wait on the porch, I'll tell him you are here," for Betty had
+dismounted.
+
+"If you please."
+
+Carrington passed on into the house. His face wore a look of somber
+repression. Of course it was all right for her to come and see
+Norton--they were old, old friends. He entered the room where Norton
+lay.
+
+"Miss Malroy is here," he said shortly.
+
+"Betty?--bless her dear heart!" cried Charley rather weakly. "Just
+toss my clothes into the closet and draw up a chair... There-thank
+you, Bruce, that will do--let her come along in now." And as Carrington
+quitted the room, Norton drew himself up on the pillows and faced the
+door. "This is worth several beatings, Betty!" he exclaimed as she
+appeared on the threshold. But much cotton and many bandages lent him
+a rather fearful aspect, and Betty paused with a little gasp of dismay.
+"I'm lots better than I look, I expect," said Norton. "Couldn't you
+arrange to come a little closer?" he added, laughing.
+
+He bent to kiss the hand she gave him, but groaned with the exertion.
+Then he looked up into her face and saw her eyes swimming with tears.
+
+"What--tears? Tears for me, Betty?" and he was much moved.
+
+"It's a perfect outrage! Who did it, Charley?" she asked.
+
+"You sit down and I'll tell you all about it," said Norton happily.
+
+"Now tell me, Charley!" when she had seated herself.
+
+"Who fetched you, Betty--old Tom?"
+
+"No, I came alone."
+
+"Well, it's mighty kind of you. I'll be all right in a day or so. What
+did you hear?--that I'd been attacked and half-killed?"
+
+"Yes--and robbed."
+
+"There were three of the scoundrels. They made me climb out of the
+saddle, and as I was unarmed they did as they pleased with me, which was
+to stamp me flat in the road--"
+
+"Charley!"
+
+"I might almost be inclined to think they were friends of yours,
+Betty--or at least friends of friends of yours."
+
+"What do you mean, Charley--friends of mine?"
+
+"Well, you see they started in by stipulating that I should keep away
+from Belle Plain, and the terms they proposed being on the face of them
+preposterous, trouble quickly ensued--trouble for me, you understand.
+But never mind, dear, the next man who undertakes to grab my horse by
+the bit won't get off quite so easy."
+
+"Why should any one care whether you come to Belle Plain or not?"
+
+"I wonder if my amiable friend, Tom, could have arranged this little
+affair; it's sort of like old Tom to move in the dark, isn't it?"
+
+"He couldn't--he wouldn't have done it, Charley!" but she looked
+troubled, not too sure of this.
+
+"Couldn't he? Well, maybe he couldn't--but he's afraid you'll marry
+me--and I'm only afraid you won't. Betty, hasn't it ever seemed worth
+your while to marry me just to give old Tom the scare of his life?"
+
+"Please, Charley--" she began.
+
+"I'm in a dreadful state of mind when I think of you alone at Belle
+Plain--I wish you could love me, Betty!"
+
+"I do love you. There is no one I care half so much for, Charley."
+
+Norton shook his bandaged head and heaved a prodigious sigh.
+
+"That's merely saying you don't love any one." He dropped back rather
+wearily on his pillow. "Does Tom know about this?" he added.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Was he able to show a proper amount of surprise?"
+
+"He appeared really shocked, Charley."
+
+"Well, then, it wasn't Tom. He never shows much emotion, but what he
+does show he usually feels, I've noticed. I had rather hoped it was Tom,
+I'd be glad to think that he was responsible; for if it wasn't Tom, who
+was it?--who is it to whom it makes any difference how often I see you?"
+
+"I don't know, Charley;" but her voice was uncertain.
+
+"Look here, Betty; for the hundredth time, won't you marry me? I've
+loved you ever since I was old enough to know what love meant. You've
+been awfully sweet and patient with me, and I've tried to respect your
+wishes and not speak of this except when it seemed necessary--" he
+paused, and they both laughed a little, but he looked weak and helpless
+with his bloodless face showing between the gaps in the bandages that
+swathed him. Perhaps it was this sense of his helplessness that roused a
+feeling in Betty that was new to her.
+
+"You see, Charley, I fear--I am sure I don't love you the way I
+should--to marry you--"
+
+Charley, greatly excited, groaned and sat up, and groaned again.
+
+"Oh, please, Charley-lie still!" she entreated.
+
+"That's all right--and you needn't pull your hand away--you like me
+better than any one else, you've told me so; well, don't you see that's
+the beginning of really loving me?"
+
+"But you wouldn't want to marry me at once?"
+
+"Yes I would--right away--as soon as I am able to stir around!" said
+Charley promptly. "Don't you see the immediate necessity there is of my
+being in a position to care for you, Betty? I wasn't served this trick
+for nothing."
+
+"You must try not to worry, Charley."
+
+"But I shall--I expect it's going to retard my recovery," said the young
+man gloomily. "I couldn't be worse off! Here I am flat on my back;
+I can't come to you or keep watch over you. Let me have some hope,
+dear--let me believe that you will marry me!"
+
+She looked at him pityingly, and with a certain latent tenderness in her
+mood.
+
+"Do you really care so much for me, Charley?"
+
+"I love you, Betty!--I want you to say you will marry me as soon as I
+can stand by your side--you're not going?--I won't speak of this again
+if it annoys you, dear!" for she had risen.
+
+"I must, Charley--"
+
+"Oh, don't--well, then, if you will go, I want Carrington to ride back
+with you."
+
+"But I brought George with me--"
+
+"Yes, I know, but I want you to take Carrington--the Lord knows what we
+are coming to here in West Tennessee; I must have word that you reach
+home safe."
+
+"Very well, then, I'll ask Mr. Carrington. Good-by, Charley, dear!"
+
+Norton seemed to summon all his fortitude.
+
+"You couldn't have done a kinder thing than come here, Betty; I can't
+begin to tell you how grateful I am--and as for my loving you--why, I'll
+just keep on doing that to the end. I can see myself a bent, old man
+still pestering you with my attentions, and you a sweet, old lady with
+snow-white hair and pink cheeks, still obdurate--still saying no! Oh,
+Lord, isn't it awful!" He had lifted himself on his elbow, and now sank
+back on his pillow.
+
+Betty paused irresolutely.
+
+"Charley--"
+
+"Yes, dear?"
+
+"Can't you be happy without me?"
+
+"No."
+
+"But you don't try to be!"
+
+"No use in my making any such foolish effort, I'd be doomed to failure."
+
+"Good-by, Charley--I really must go--"
+
+He looked up yearningly into her face, and yielding to a sudden impulse,
+she stooped and kissed him on the forehead, then she fled from the room.
+
+"Oh, come back--Betty--" cried Norton, and his voice rose to a wail of
+entreaty, but she was gone. She had been quite as much surprised by her
+act as Charley himself.
+
+In the yard, Carrington was waiting for her. Jeff had just brought up
+Norton's horse, and though he made no display of weapons, the Kentuckian
+had fully armed himself.
+
+"I am going to ride to Belle Plain with you, Miss Malroy," he said, as
+he lifted her into her saddle.
+
+"Do you think it necessary?" she asked, but she did not look at him.
+
+"I hope not. I'll keep a bit in advance," he added, as he mounted his
+horse, and all Betty saw of him during their ride of five miles was his
+broad back. At the entrance to Belle Plain he reined in his horse.
+
+"I reckon it's all right, now," he said briefly.
+
+"You will return at once to Mr. Norton?" she asked. He nodded. "And you
+will not leave him while he is helpless?"
+
+"No, I'll not leave him," said Carrington, giving her a steady glance.
+
+"I am so glad, I--his friends will feel so much safer with you there. I
+will send over in the morning to learn how he passed the night. Good-by,
+Mr. Carrington." And still refusing to meet his eyes, she gave him her
+hand.
+
+But Carrington did not quit the mouth of the lane until she had crossed
+between the great fields of waving corn, and he had seen her pass up
+the hillside beyond to the oak grove, where the four massive chimneys
+of Belle Plain house showed their gray stone copings among the foliage.
+With this last glimpse of her he turned away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. THICKET POINT
+
+
+It WAS a point with Mr. Ware to see just as little as possible of Betty.
+He had no taste for what he called female chatter. A sane interest in
+the price of cotton or pork he considered the only rational test of
+human intelligence, and Betty evinced entire indifference where those
+great staples were concerned, hence it was agreeable to him to have most
+of his meals served in his office.
+
+At first Betty had sought to adapt herself to his somewhat peculiar
+scheme of life, but Tom had begged her not to regard him, his movements
+from hour to hour were cloaked in uncertainty. The man who had to
+overlook the labor of eighty or ninety field hands was the worst sort of
+a slave himself; the niggers knew when they could sit down to a meal; he
+never did.
+
+But for all his avoidance of Betty, he in reality kept the closest kind
+of a watch on her movements, and when he learned that she had visited
+Charley Norton--George, the groom, was the channel through which this
+information reached him--he was both scandalized and disturbed. He felt
+the situation demanded some sort of a protest.
+
+"Isn't it just hell the way a woman can worry you?" he lamented, as
+he hurried up the path from the barns to the house. He found Betty at
+supper.
+
+"I thought I'd have a cup of tea with you, Bet--what else have you
+that's good?" he inquired genially, as he dropped into a chair.
+
+"That was nice of you; we don't see very much of each other, do we,
+Tom?" said Betty pleasantly.
+
+Mr. Ware twisted his features, on which middle age had rested an
+untender hand, into a smile.
+
+"When a man undertakes to manage a place like Belle Plain his work's
+laid out for him, Betty, and an old fellow like me is pretty apt to go
+one of two ways; either he takes to hard living to keep himself in trim,
+or he pampers himself soft."
+
+"But you aren't old, Tom!"
+
+"I wish I were sure of seeing forty-five or even forty-eight again--but
+I'm not," said Tom.
+
+"But that isn't really old," objected Betty.
+
+"Well, that's old enough, Bet, as you'll discover for yourself one of
+these days."
+
+"Mercy, Tom!" cried Betty.
+
+Mr. Ware consumed a cup of tea in silence.
+
+"You were over to see Norton, weren't you, Bet? How did you find him?"
+he asked abruptly.
+
+"The doctor says he will soon be about again," answered Betty.
+
+Tom stroked his chin and gazed at her reflectively.
+
+"Betty, I wish you wouldn't go there again--that's a good girl!" he said
+tactfully, and as he conceived it, affectionately, even, paving the way
+for an exercise of whatever influence might be his, a point on which he
+had no very clear idea. Betty glanced up quickly.
+
+"Why, Tom, why shouldn't I go there?" she demanded.
+
+"It might set people gossiping. I reckon there's been pretty near enough
+talk about you and Charley Norton. A young girl can't be too careful."
+The planter's tone was conciliatory in the extreme, he dared not risk a
+break by any open show of authority.
+
+"You needn't distress yourself, Tom. I don't know that I shall go there
+again," said Betty indifferently.
+
+"I wouldn't if I were you." He was charmed to find her so reasonable.
+"You know it isn't the thing for a young girl to call on a man, you'll
+get yourself talked about in a way you won't like--take my word for it!
+If you want to be kind and neighborly send one of the boys over to ask
+how he is--or bake a cake with your own hands, but you keep away. That's
+the idea!--send him something to eat, something you've made yourself,
+he'll appreciate that."
+
+"I'm afraid he couldn't eat it if I did, Tom. It's plain you have no
+acquaintance with my cooking," said Betty, laughing.
+
+"Did Norton say if he had any idea as to the identity of the men who
+robbed him?" inquired Tom casually.
+
+"Their object wasn't robbery," said Betty.
+
+"No?" Ware's glance was uneasy.
+
+"It seems that some one objects to his coming here, Tom--here to
+Belle Plain to see me, I suppose," added Betty. The planter moved
+uncomfortably in his seat, refusing to meet her eyes.
+
+"He shouldn't put out a yarn like that, Bet. It isn't just the thing for
+a gentleman to do--"
+
+"He isn't putting it out, as you call it! He has told no one, so far as
+I know," said Betty quickly. Mr. Ware fell into a brooding silence.
+"Of course, Charley wouldn't mention my name in any such connection!"
+continued Betty.
+
+"Who cares how often he comes here? You don't, and I don't. There's more
+back of this than Charley would want you to know. I reckon he's got
+his enemies; some one's had a grudge against him and taken this way
+to settle it." The planter's tone and manner were charged with an
+unpleasant significance.
+
+"I don't like your hints, Tom," said Betty. Her heightened color and the
+light in her eyes warned Tom that he had said enough. In some haste he
+finished his second cup of tea, a beverage which he despised, and after
+a desultory remark or two, withdrew to his office.
+
+Betty went up-stairs to her own room, where she tried to finish a letter
+she had begun the day before to Judith Ferris, but she was in no mood
+for this. She was owning to a sense of utter depression and she had been
+at home less than a month. Struggle as she might against the feeling,
+it was borne in upon her that she was wretchedly lonely. She had seated
+herself by an open window. Now, resting her elbows on the ledge and with
+her chin between her palms, she gazed off into the still night. A mile
+distant, on what was called "Shanty Hill," were the quarters of the
+slaves. The only lights she saw were there, the only sounds she heard
+reached her across the intervening fields. This was her world. A
+half-savage world with its uncouth army of black dependents.
+
+Tom's words still rankled. Betty's temper flared up belligerently as she
+recalled them. He had evidently meant to insinuate that Charley had lied
+outright when he told her the motive for the attack, and he had followed
+it up by that covert slur on his character. Charley's devotion was the
+thing that redeemed the dull monotony of existence. She became suddenly
+humble and tenderly penitent in her mood toward him; he loved her much
+better than she deserved, and she suspected that her own attitude had
+been habitually ungenerous and selfish. She had accepted all and yielded
+nothing. She wondered gravely why it was she did not love him; she was
+fond of him--she was very, very fond of him; she wondered if after all,
+as he said, this were not the beginning of love, the beginning of that
+deeper feeling which she was not sure she understood, not sure she
+should ever experience.
+
+The thought of Charley's unwavering affection gave her a great sense of
+peace; it was something to have inspired such devotion, she could
+never be quite desperate while she had him. She must try to make him
+understand how possible an ideal friendship was between them, how
+utterly impossible anything else. She would like to have seen Charley
+happily married to some nice girl--"I wonder whom!" thought Betty,
+gazing deep into the night through her drooping lashes. She considered
+possible candidates for the happiness she herself seemed so willing to
+forego, but for one reason or another dismissed them all. "I am not sure
+I should care to see him marry," she confessed under her breath. "It
+would spoil everything. Men are much nicer than girls!" And Charley
+possessed distinguished merits as a man; he was not to be too hastily
+disposed of, even for his own good. She viewed him in his various
+aspects, his character and disposition came under her critical survey.
+Nature had given the young planter a handsome presence; wealth and
+position had come to him as fortuitously. The first of these was no
+great matter, perhaps; Betty herself was sometimes burdened with a sense
+of possession, but family was indispensable.
+
+In theory, at least, she was a thoroughgoing little aristocrat. A
+gentleman was always a gentleman. There were exceptions, like Tom, to
+be sure, but even Tom could have reached up and seized the title had he
+coveted it. She rarely forgot that she was the mistress of Belle Plain
+and a Malroy. Just wherein a Malroy differed from the rest of the sons
+of men she had never paused to consider, it sufficed that there was a
+hazy Malroy genealogy that went back to tidewater Virginia, and then
+if one were not meanly curious, and would skip a generation or two that
+could not be accounted for in ways any Malroy would accept, one might
+triumphantly follow the family to a red-roofed Sussex manor house.
+Altogether, it was a highly satisfactory genealogy and it had Betty's
+entire faith. The Nortons were every bit as good as the Malroys, which
+was saying a great deal. Their history was quite as pretentious, quite
+as vague, and as hopelessly involved in the mists of tradition.
+
+Inexplicably enough, Betty found that her thoughts had wandered to
+Carrington; which was very singular, as she had long since formed
+a resolution not to think of him at all. Yet she remembered with
+satisfaction his manner that afternoon, it left nothing to be desired.
+He was probably understanding the impassable gulf that separated
+them--education, experience, feeling, everything that made up the
+substance of life but deepened and widened this gulf. He belonged
+to that shifting, adventurous population which was far beneath the
+slave-holding aristocracy, at least he more nearly belonged to this
+lower order than to any other. She fixed his status relentlessly as
+something to be remembered when they should meet again. At last, with
+a little puckering of the brows and a firm contraction of the lips, she
+dismissed the Kentuckian from her thoughts.
+
+
+Betty complied with Tom's expressed wish, for she did not again visit
+Thicket Point, but then she had not intended doing so. However, the
+planter was greatly shocked by the discovery he presently made that she
+was engaged in a vigorous correspondence with Charley.
+
+"I wish to blazes Murrell had told those fellows to kick the life clean
+out of him while they were about it!" he commented savagely, and fell
+to cursing impotently. Brute force was a factor to be introduced with
+caution into the affairs of life, but if you were going to use it,
+his belief was that you should use it to the limit. You couldn't
+scare Norton, he was in love with that pink-faced little fool. Keep
+away?--he'd never think of it, he'd stuff his pockets full of pistols
+and the next man who stopped him on the road would better look out! It
+made him sick--the utter lack of sense manifested by Murrell, and his
+talk, whenever they met, was still of the girl. He couldn't see anything
+so damn uncommon about that red-and-white chit. She wasn't worth running
+your neck into a halter for--no woman that ever lived was worth that.
+
+The correspondence, so far as Betty was responsible for it, bore just on
+one point. She wanted Charley to promise that for a time, at least, he
+would not attempt to see her. It seemed such a needless risk to take,
+couldn't he be satisfied if he heard from her every day?
+
+Charley was regretful, but firm. Just as soon as he could mount his
+horse he would ride down to Belle Plain. She was not to distress herself
+on his account; he had been surprised, but this should not happen again.
+
+The calm manner in which he put aside her fears for his safety
+exasperated Betty beyond measure. She scolded him vigorously. Charley
+accepted the scolding with humility, but his resolution was unshaken;
+he did not propose to vacate the public roads at any man's behest; that
+would be an unwise precedent to establish.
+
+Betty replied that this was not a matter in which silly vanity should
+enter, even if his life was of no value to himself it did not follow
+that she held it lightly. It required some eight closely written pages
+for Charley to explain why existence would be an unsupportable burden if
+he were denied the sight of her.
+
+A week had intervened since the attack, and from Jeff, who always
+brought Charley's letters, Betty learned more of Charley's condition
+than Charley himself had seen fit to tell. According to Jeff his master
+was now able to get around pretty tolerable well, though he had a
+powerful keen misery in his side.
+
+"That was whar' they done kicked him most, Miss," he added. Betty
+shuddered.
+
+"How much longer will he be confined to the house?" she asked.
+
+"I heard him 'low to Mas'r Carrington, Miss, as how he reckoned he'd
+take a hossback ride to-morrow evenin' if the black and blue was all
+come out of his features--"
+
+"Oh--" gasped Betty.
+
+"Seems like they was mighty careless whar' they put their feet, don't
+it, Miss?" said Jeff.
+
+It was this information she gleaned from Jeff that led Betty to
+desperate lengths, to the making of what her cooler judgment told her
+was a desperate bargain.
+
+At Thicket Point Charley Norton, greatly excited, hobbled into the
+library in search of Carrington. He found him reading by the open
+window.
+
+"Look here, Bruce!" he cried. "It's settled; she's going to marry me!"
+
+The book slipped unheeded from Carrington's hand to the floor. For a
+moment he sat motionless, then he slowly pulled himself up out of his
+chair.
+
+"What's that?" he asked a trifle thickly.
+
+"Betty Malroy is going to marry me," said Norton. Carrington gazed at
+him in silence.
+
+"It's settled, is it?" he asked at length. He saw his own hopes go down
+in miserable wreck; they had been utterly futile from the first. He had
+known all along that Norton loved her, the young planter had made no
+secret of it. He had been less frank.
+
+"I swear you take it quietly enough," said Norton.
+
+"Do I?"
+
+"Can't you wish me joy?"
+
+Carrington held out his hand.
+
+"You are not going to take any risks now, you have too much to live
+for," he said haltingly.
+
+"No, I'm to keep away from Belle Plain," said Norton happily. "She
+insists on that; she says she won't even see me if I come there.
+Everything is to be kept a secret; nothing's to be known until we are
+actually married; it's her wish--"
+
+"It's to be soon then?" Carrington asked, still haltingly.
+
+"Very soon."
+
+There was a brief silence. Carrington, with face averted, looked from
+the window.
+
+"I am going to stay here as long as you need me," he presently said.
+"She--Miss Malroy asked me to, and then I am going back to the river
+where I belong."
+
+Norton turned on him quickly.
+
+"You don't mean you've abandoned the notion of turning planter?" he
+demanded in surprise.
+
+"Well, yes. What's the use of my trying my hand at a business I don't
+know the first thing about?"
+
+"I wouldn't be in too big a hurry to decide finally on that point,"
+urged Norton.
+
+"It has decided itself," said Carrington quietly.
+
+But Norton was conscious of a subtle change in their relation.
+Carrington seemed a shade less frank than had been habitual with
+him; all at once he had removed his private affairs from the field of
+discussion. Afterward, when Norton considered the matter, he wondered
+if it were not that the Kentuckian felt himself superfluous in this new
+situation that had grown up.
+
+Charley Norton's features recovered their accustomed hue, but he did not
+go near Belle Plain; with resolute fortitude he confined himself to
+his own acres. He was tolerably familiar with certain engaging little
+peculiarities of Mr. Ware's; he knew, for instance, that the latter was
+a gentleman of excessively regular habits; once each fortnight, making
+an excuse of business, he spent a day in Memphis, neither more nor less.
+Norton told himself with satisfaction that Tom was destined to return to
+the surprise of his life from the next of these trips. This conviction
+was the one thing which sustained Charley for some ten days. They were
+altogether the longest ten days he had ever known, and he had about
+reached the limit of his endurance when Betty's groom arrived with
+a letter which threw him into a state of ecstatic happiness. The
+sober-minded Tom would devote the morrow to Memphis and business.
+This meant that he would leave Belle Plain at sun-up and return after
+nightfall.
+
+"You may not like Tom, but you can always count on him," said Norton.
+Then he ordered his horse and rode off in the direction of Raleigh,
+but before leaving the house, he scribbled a line or two to be handed
+Carrington, who had gone down to the nearest river landing.
+
+It was nightfall when the Kentuckian returned, Hearing his step in the
+hall, Jeff came from the dining-room, where he was laying the cloth for
+supper.
+
+"Mas'r Charley has rid to Raleigh, Sah," said he; "but he done lef' this
+fo' me to han' to yo"--extending the letter.
+
+Carrington took it. He guessed its contents. Breaking the seal he read
+the half dozen lines.
+
+"To-morrow--" he muttered under his breath, and slowly tore the sheet of
+note-paper into thin ribbons. He turned to Jeff. "Mr. Charley won't be
+home until late," he said.
+
+"Then I 'low yo' want yo' supper now, Sar?" But Carrington shook his
+head.
+
+"No, you needn't bother, Jeff," he said, as he turned toward the stairs.
+
+Ten minutes later and he had got together his belongings and was ready
+to quit Thicket Point. He retraced his steps to the floor below. In
+the hall he paused and glanced about him. He seemed to feel her
+presence--and very near--to-morrow she would enter there as Norton's
+wife. With his pack under his arm he entered the dining-room in search
+of Jeff.
+
+"Tell your master I have gone to Memphis," he said briefly.
+
+"Ain't yo' goin' to have a hoss, Mas'r Carrington?" demanded Jeff in
+some surprise. He had come to regard the Kentuckian as a fixture.
+
+"No," said Carrington. "Good-by, Jeff," he added, turning away.
+
+But when he left Thicket Point he did not take the Memphis road, but
+the road to Belle Plain. Walking rapidly, he reached the entrance to
+the lane within the hour. Here he paused irresolutely, it was as if the
+force of his purpose had already spent itself. Then he tossed his pack
+into a fence corner and kept on toward the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. AT THE CHURCH DOOR
+
+
+There was the patter of small feet beyond Betty's door, and little
+Steve, who looked more like a nice fat black Cupid than anything else,
+rapped softly; at the same time he effected to squint through the
+keyhole.
+
+"Supper served, Missy," he announced, then he turned no less than seven
+handsprings in the upper hall and slid down the balustrade to the floor
+below. He was far from being a model house servant.
+
+His descent was witnessed by the butler. Now in his own youth big Steve
+with as fair a field had cut similar capers, yet he was impelled by his
+sense of duty to do for his grandson what his own father had so often
+done for him, and in no perfunctory manner. It was only the sound of
+Betty's door opening and closing that stayed his hand as he was making
+choice of a soft and vulnerable spot to which he should apply it. Little
+Steve slid under the outstretched arm that menaced him and fled to the
+dining-room.
+
+Betty came slowly down the stairs. Four hours since Jeff had ridden away
+with the letter. Already there had come to her moments when, she would
+have given much could she have recalled it, when she knew with dread
+certainty that whatever her feeling for Charley, it was not love;
+moments when she realized that she had been cruelly driven by
+circumstances into a situation that offered no escape.
+
+"Mas'r Tom he say he won't come in to supper, Missy; he 'low he's
+powerful busy, gittin' ready to go to Memphis in the mo'ning," explained
+Steve, as he followed Betty into the dining-room.
+
+His mistress nodded indifferently as she seated herself at the table;
+she was glad to be alone just then; she was in no mood to carry on the
+usual sluggish conversation with Tom; her own thoughts absorbed her more
+and more they became terrifying things to her.
+
+She ate her supper with big Steve standing behind her chair and little
+Steve balancing himself first on one foot and then on the other near the
+door. Little Steve's head was on a level with the chair rail and but
+for the rolling whites of his eyes he was no more than a black shadow
+against the walnut wainscoting; he formed the connecting link between
+the dining-room and the remote kitchen. Betty suspected that most of the
+platters journeyed down the long corridor deftly perched on top of his
+woolly head. She frequently detected him with greasy or sticky fingers,
+which while it argued a serious breach of trust also served to indicate
+his favorite dishes. These two servitors were aware that their mistress
+was laboring under some unusual stress of emotion. In its presence big
+Steven, who, with the slightest encouragement, became a medium through
+which the odds and ends of plantation gossip reached Betty's ears, held
+himself to silence; while little Steve ceased to shift his weight from
+foot to foot, the very dearth of speech fixed his attention.
+
+The long French windows, their curtains drawn, stood open. All day a hot
+September sun had beaten upon the earth, but with the fall of twilight
+a soft wind had sprung up and the candles in their sconces flared at
+its touch. It came out of wide solitudes laden with the familiar night
+sounds. It gave Betty a sense of vast unused spaces, of Belle Plain
+clinging on the edge of an engulfing wilderness, of her own loneliness.
+She needed Charley as much as he seemed to think he needed her. The life
+she had been living had become suddenly impossible of continuance; that
+it had ever been possible was because of Charley; she knew this now as
+she had never known it before.
+
+Her thoughts dealt with the past. In her one great grief, her mother's
+death, it had been Charley who had sustained and comforted her. She was
+conscious of a choking sense of gratitude as she recalled his patient
+tenderness at that time, the sympathy and understanding he had shown; it
+was something never to be forgotten.
+
+Unrest presently sent her from the house. She wandered down to the
+terrace. Before her was the wide sweep of the swampy fore-shore, and
+beyond just beginning to silver in the moonlight, the bend of the river
+growing out of the black void. With her eyes on the river and her hands
+clasped loosely she watched the distant line of the Arkansas coast
+grow up against the sky; she realized that the moon was rising on Betty
+Malroy for the last time.
+
+She liked Charley; she needed some one to take care of her and her
+belongings, and he needed her. It was best for them both that she should
+marry him. True she might have gone back to Judith Ferris; that would
+have been one solution of her difficulties. Why hadn't she thought of
+doing this before? Of course, Charley would have followed her East.
+Charley met the ordinary duties and responsibilities of his position
+somewhat recklessly; it was only where she was concerned that he became
+patiently determined.
+
+"I suppose the end would have been the same there as here," thought
+Betty.
+
+A moment later she found herself wondering if Charley had told
+Carrington yet; certainly the Kentuckian would not remain at Thicket
+Point when he knew. She was sure she wished him to leave not Thicket
+Point merely, but the neighborhood. She did not wish to see him
+again--not see him again--not see him again--She found herself repeating
+the words over and over; they shaped themselves into a dreadful refrain.
+A nameless terror of the future swept in upon her. She was cold and
+sick. It was as though an icy hand was laid upon her heart. The words
+ran on in endless repetition--not see him again--they held the very soul
+of tragedy for her, yet she was roused to passionate protest. She
+must not think of him, he was nothing to her. She was to be married to
+another man, even now she was almost a wife--but battle as she might the
+struggle went on.
+
+There was the sound of a step on the path. Betty turned, supposing it to
+be Tom; but it was not Tom, it was Carrington himself who stood before
+her, his face haggard and drawn. She uttered an involuntary exclamation
+and shrank away from him. Without a word he stepped to her side and took
+her hands rather roughly.
+
+For a moment there was silence between them, Betty stared up into his
+face with wide scared eyes, while he gazed down at her as if he would
+fasten something on his mind that must never be forgotten. Suddenly
+he lifted her soft cold hands to his lips and kissed them passionately
+again and again; then he held them in his own against his cheek, his
+glance still fixed intently upon her; it held something of bitterness
+and reproach, but now she kept her eyes under their quivering lids from
+him.
+
+"What am I to do without you?"--his voice was almost a whisper. "What is
+this thing you have done?" Betty's heart was beating with dull sickening
+throbs, but she dared not trust herself to answer him. He took both her
+hands in one of his, and, slipping the other under her chin, raised her
+face so that he could look into her eyes; then he put his arm loosely
+about her, holding her hands against his breast. "If I could have had
+one moment out of all the years for my own--only one. I am glad you
+don't care, dear; it hurts when you reach the end of something that has
+been all your hope and filled all your days. I have come to say good-by,
+Betty; this is the last time I shall see you. I am going away."
+
+All in an instant Betty pressed close to him, hiding her face in his
+arm; she clung to him in a panic of pain and horror. She felt something
+stir within her that had never been there before, as a storm of
+passionate longing swept through her. Her words, her promise to another
+man, became as nothing. All her pride was forgotten. Without this man
+the days stretched away before her a blank. His arm drew her closer
+still, until she felt her heart throb against his.
+
+"Do you care?" he said, and seemed to wonder that she should.
+
+"Bruce, Bruce, I didn't know--and now--Oh, my dear, my dear--" He
+pressed his lips against the bright little head that rested in such
+miserable abandon against his shoulder.
+
+"Do you love me?" he whispered. The blood ran riot in his veins.
+
+"Why have you stayed away--why didn't you come to me? I have promised
+him--" she gasped.
+
+"I know," he said, and shut his lips. There was another silence while
+she waited for him to speak. She felt that she was at his mercy, that
+whether right or wrong, as he decided so it would be. At length he said.
+"I thought it wasn't fair to him, and it seemed so hopeless after I came
+here. I had nothing--and a man feels that--so I kept away." He spoke
+awkwardly with something of the reserve that was habitual to him.
+
+"If you had only come!" she moaned.
+
+"I did--once," he muttered.
+
+"You didn't understand; why did you believe anything I said to you? It
+was only that I cared--that in my heart I knew I cared--I've cared
+about you ever since that trip down the river, and now I am going to
+be married to-morrow--to-morrow, Bruce--do you realize I have given my
+promise? I am to meet him at the Spring Bank church at ten o'clock--and
+it's tomorrow!" she cried, in a laboring choked voice. For answer he
+drew her closer. "Bruce, what can I do?--tell me what I can do."
+
+Carrington made an involuntary gesture of protest.
+
+"I can't tell you that, dear--for I don't know." His voice was steady,
+but it came from lips that quivered. He knew that he might have urged
+the supreme claim of his love and in her present desperate mood she
+would have listened, but the memory of Norton would have been between
+them always a shame and reproach; as surely as he stood there with his
+arms about her, as surely as she clung to him so warm and near, he would
+have lived to see the shadow of that shame in her eyes.
+
+"I can not do it--I can not, Bruce!" she panted.
+
+"Dear--dear--don't tempt me!" He held himself in check.
+
+"I am going to tell you--just this once, Bruce--I love you--you are my own
+for this one moment out of my life!" and she abandoned herself to the
+passionate caressing with which he answered her. "How can I give you
+up?" he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. He put her from him almost
+roughly, and leaning against the trunk of a tree buried his face in his
+hands. Betty watched him for a moment in wretched silence.
+
+"Don't feel so bad, Bruce," she said brokenly. "I am not worth it. I
+tried not to love you--I didn't want to." She raised a white face to
+his.
+
+"I am going now, Betty. You--you shouldn't stay here any longer with
+me." He spoke with sudden resolution.
+
+"And I shall not see you again?" she asked, in a low, stifled voice.
+
+"It's good-by--" he muttered.
+
+"Not yet--oh, not yet, Bruce--" she implored. "I can not--"
+
+"Yes--now, dear. I don't dare stay--I may forget--" but he turned again
+to her in entreaty. "Give me something to remember in all the years
+that are coming when I shall be alone--let me kiss you on the lips--let
+me--just this once--it's good-by we're saying--it's good-by, Betty!"
+
+She went to him, and, as he bent above her, slipped her arms about his
+neck.
+
+"Kiss me--" she breathed.
+
+He kissed her hair, her soft cheek, then their lips met.
+
+He helped her as she stumbled blindly along the path to the house,
+and half lifted her up the steps to the door. They paused there for a
+moment. At last he turned from her abruptly in silence. A step away he
+halted.
+
+"If you should ever need me--" "Never as now," she said.
+
+She saw his tall figure pass down the path, and her straining eyes
+followed until it was lost in the mild wide spaces of the night.
+
+
+Another hot September sun was beating upon the earth as Betty galloped
+down the lane and swung her horse's head in the direction of Raleigh.
+Her grief had worn itself out and she carried a pale but resolute face.
+Carrington was gone; she would keep her promise to Charley and he should
+never know what his happiness had cost her. She nerved herself for their
+meeting; somewhere between Belle Plain and Thicket Point Norton would be
+waiting for her.
+
+He joined her before she had covered a third of the distance that
+separated the two plantations.
+
+"Thank God, my darling!" he cried fervently, as he ranged up alongside
+of her.
+
+"Then you weren't sure of me, Charley?"
+
+"No, I wasn't sure, Betty--but I hoped. I have been haunting the road
+for more than an hour. You are making one poor unworthy devil happy,
+unless--"
+
+"Unless what, Charley?" she prompted.
+
+"Unless you came here merely to tell me that after all you couldn't
+marry me." He put out his hand and covered hers that held the reins.
+"I'll never give you cause to regret it--you know how I love you, dear?"
+
+"Yes, Charley--I know." She met his glance bravely.
+
+"We are to go to the church. Mr. Bowen will be there; I arranged with
+him last night; he will drive over with his wife and daughter, who will
+be our witnesses, dear. We could have gone to his house, but I thought
+it would seem more like a real wedding in a church, you know."
+
+Betty did not answer him, her eyes were fixed straight ahead, the last
+vestige of color had faded from her face and a deathly pallor was there.
+This was the crowning horror. She felt the terrible injustice she was
+doing the man at her side, the depth and sincerity of his devotion was
+something for which she could make no return. Her lips trembled on the
+verge of an avowal of her love for Carrington. Presently she saw the
+church in its grove of oaks, in the shade of one of these stood Mr.
+Bowen's horse and buggy.
+
+"We won't have to wait on him!" said Norton.
+
+"No--" Betty gasped out the monosyllable.
+
+"Why--my darling--what's the matter?" he asked tenderly, his glance bent
+in concern on the frightened face of the girl.
+
+"Nothing--nothing, Charley."
+
+They had reined in their horses. Norton sprang to the ground and lifted
+her from the saddle.
+
+"It will only take a moment, dear!" he whispered encouragingly in the
+brief instant he held her in his arms.
+
+"Oh, Charley, it isn't that--it's dreadfully serious--" she said, with a
+wild little laugh that was almost hysterical.
+
+"I wouldn't have it less than that," he said gravely.
+
+
+Afterward Betty could remember standing before the church in the fierce
+morning light; she heard Mr. Bowen's voice, she heard Charley's voice,
+she heard another voice--her own, though she scarcely recognized it.
+Then, like one aroused from a dream, she looked about her--she met
+Charley's glance; his face was radiant and she smiled back at him
+through a sudden mist that swam before her eyes.
+
+Mr. Bowen led her toward the church door. As they neared it they caught
+the clatter of hoofs, and Tom Ware on a hard-ridden horse dashed up; he
+was covered with dust and inarticulate with rage. Then a cry came from
+him that was like the roar of some mortally wounded animal.
+
+"I forbid this marriage!" he shrieked, when he could command speech.
+
+"You're too late to stop it, Tom, but you can attend it," said Norton
+composedly.
+
+"You--you--" Words failed the planter; he sat his horse the picture of a
+grim and sordid despair.
+
+Mr. Bowen divided a look of reproach between his wife and daughter; his
+own conscience was clear; he had told no one of the purpose of Norton's
+call the night before.
+
+"I'll tie the horses, Betty," said Norton.
+
+Ware turned fiercely to Bowen.
+
+"You knew better than to be a party to this, and by God!--if you go on
+with it you shall live to regret it!"
+
+The minister made him no answer, he thoroughly disapproved of the
+planter. It was well that Betty should have a proper protector, this
+half-brother was hardly that measured by any standard.
+
+Norton, leading the horses, had reached the edge of the oaks when from
+the silent depths of the denser woods came the sharp report of a rifle.
+The shock of the bullet sent the young fellow staggering back among the
+mossy and myrtle-covered graves.
+
+For a moment no one grasped what had happened, only there was Norton who
+seemed to grope strangely among the graves. Black spots danced
+before his eyes, the little group by the church merged into the
+distance--always receding, always more remote, as he, stumbled
+helplessly over the moss and the thick dank myrtle and among the round
+graves that gave him a treacherous footing; and then he heard Betty's
+agonized cry. He had fallen now, and his strength went from him, but he
+kept his face turned on the group before the church in mute appeal, and
+even as the shadows deepened he was aware that Betty was coming swiftly
+toward him.
+
+"I'm shot--" he said, speaking with difficulty.
+
+"Charley--Charley--" she moaned, slipping her strong young arms about
+him and gathering him to her breast.
+
+He looked up into her face.
+
+"It's all over--" he said, but as much in wonder as in fear. "But I knew
+you would come to me--dear--" he added in a whisper. She felt a shudder
+pass through him. He did not speak again. His lips opened once, and
+closed on silence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. THE JUDGE OFFERS A REWARD
+
+
+The news of Charley Norton's murder spread quickly over the county. For
+two or three days bands of armed men scoured the woods and roads, and
+then this activity quite unproductive of any tangible results ceased,
+matters were allowed to rest with the constituted authorities, namely
+Mr. Betts the sheriff, and his deputies.
+
+No private citizen had shown greater zeal than Judge Slocum Price, no
+voice had clamored more eloquently for speedy justice than his. He had
+sustained a loss that was in a peculiar sense personal, he explained.
+Mr. Norton was his friend and client; they had much in common; their
+political ideals were in the strictest accord and he had entertained a
+most favorable opinion of the young man's abilities; he had urged him
+to enter the national arena and carve out a career for himself; he had
+promised him his support. The judge so worked upon his own feelings that
+presently any mention of Norton's name utterly unmanned him. Well, this
+was life. One could only claim time as it was doled out by clock ticks;
+we planned for the years and could not be certain of the moments.
+
+He spent two entire days at the church and in the surrounding woods, nor
+did any one describe the murder with the vividness he achieved in his
+description of it. The minister's narrative was pale and colorless by
+comparison, and those who came from a distance went away convinced
+that they had talked with an eyewitness to the tragedy and esteemed
+themselves fortunate. In short, he imposed himself on the situation with
+such brilliancy that in the end his account of the murder became
+the accepted version from which all other versions differed to their
+discredit.
+
+In the same magnificent spirit of public service he would have assumed
+the direction of the search for the murderer, but Mr. Betts' jealousy
+proved an obstacle to his ambitious design. In view of this he was
+regretful, but not surprised when the hard-ridden miles covered by dusty
+men and reeking horses yielded only failure.
+
+"If I had shot that poor boy, I wouldn't ask any surer guarantee of
+safety than to have that fool Betts with his microscopic brain working
+in unhampered asininity on the case," he told Mahaffy.
+
+"Is it your idea that you are enlarging your circle of intimate friends
+by the way you go about slamming into folks?" inquired Mahaffy, with
+harsh sarcasm.
+
+Later, the judge was shocked at what he characterized as official
+apathy. It became a point on which he expressed himself with surpassing
+candor.
+
+"Do they think the murderer's going to come in and give himself up?--is
+that the notion?" he demanded heatedly of Mr. Saul.
+
+"The sheriff owns himself beat, Sir; the murderer's got safely away and
+left no clue to his identity."
+
+The judge waived this aside.
+
+"Clues, sir? If you mean physical evidence the eye can apprehend, I
+grant it; the murderer has got away; certainly he's been given all the
+time he needed, but what about the motive that prompted the crime? An
+intelligently conducted examination such as I am willing to undertake
+might still bring it to light. Isn't it known that Norton was attacked a
+fortnight ago as he was leaving Belle Plain? He recovers and is about
+to be married to Miss Malroy when he is shot at the church door; I'll
+hazard the opinion the attack was in the nature of a warning for him to
+keep away from Belle Plain. Now, had he a rival? Clear up these points
+and you get a clue!" The judge paused impressively.
+
+"Tom Ware has acted in a straightforward manner. He's stated frankly
+he was opposed to the match, that when he heard about it on his way to
+Memphis he turned back and made every effort to get to the church in
+time to stop it if he could," said Mr. Saul.
+
+"Mr. Ware need not be considered," observed the judge.
+
+"Well, there's been a heap of talk."
+
+"If he'd inspired the firing of the fatal shot he'd have kept away from
+the church. No, no, Mr. Saul, is there anybody hereabout who aspired to
+Miss Malroy's hand--any rejected suitor?"
+
+"Not that we know of."
+
+"Under ordinary circumstances, sir, I am opposed to measures that
+ignore the constituted authorities, but we find ourselves living under
+extraordinary conditions, and the law--God save the name--has proved
+itself abortive. It is time for the better element to join bands; we
+must get together, sir. I am willing to take the initial steps and
+issue the call for a mass meeting of our best citizens. I am prepared to
+address such a meeting." The very splendor of his conception dazzled the
+judge; this promised a gorgeous publicity with his name flying broadcast
+over the county. He continued:
+
+"I am ready to give my time gratuitously to directing the activities of
+a body of picked men who shall rid the county of the lawless element.
+God knows, sir, I desire the repose of a private career, yet I am
+willing to sacrifice myself. Is it your opinion, Mr. Saul, that I should
+move in this matter?"
+
+"I advise you didn't," said Mr. Saul, with disappointing alacrity.
+
+The judge looked at him fixedly.
+
+"Am I wrong in supposing, Mr. Saul, that if I determine to act as I have
+outlined I shall have your indorsement?" he demanded. Mr. Saul
+looked extremely uncomfortable; he was finding the judge's effulgent
+personality rather compelling. "There is no gentleman whose support
+I should value in quite the same sense that I should value yours, Mr.
+Saul; I should like to feel my course met with your full approval,"
+pursued the judge, with charming deference.
+
+"You'll get yourself shot full of holes," said Mr. Saul.
+
+"What causes me to hesitate is this: my name is unfamiliar to your
+citizens. You know their prejudices, Mr. Saul; how would they regard me
+if I put myself forward?"
+
+"Can't say how they would take it," rejoined Mr. Saul.
+
+Again the judge gave him a fixed scrutiny. Then ha shook him warmly by
+the hand.
+
+"Think of what I have said; ponder it, sir, and let me have your
+answer at another time." And he backed from Mr. Saul's presence with
+spectacular politeness.
+
+"A cheap mind!" thought the judge, as he hurried up the street.
+
+He broached the subject to Mr. Wesley the postmaster, to Mr. Ellison
+the gunsmith, to Mr. Pegloe, employing much the same formula he had used
+with Mr. Saul, and with results almost identical. He imagined there must
+be some conspiracy afoot to keep him out of the public eye, and in the
+end he managed to lose his temper.
+
+"Hasn't Norton any friends?" he demanded of Pegloe. "Who's going to
+be safe at this rate? We want to let some law into west Tennessee, a
+hanging or two would clear the air!" His emotions became a rage that
+blew through him like a gale, shaking him to his center.
+
+Two mornings later he found where it had been placed under his door
+during the night a folded paper. It contained a single line of writing:
+
+
+"You talk too much. Shut up, or you'll go where Norton went."
+
+
+Now the judge was accessible to certain forms of fear. He was, for
+instance, afraid of snakes--both kinds--and mobs he had dreaded
+desperately since his Pleasantville experience; but beyond this, fear
+remained an unexplored region to Slocum Price, and as he examined the
+scrawl a smile betokening supreme satisfaction overspread his battered
+features. He was agreeably affected by the situation; indeed he was
+delighted. His activities were being recognized; he had made his
+impression; the cutthroats had selected him to threaten. Well, the
+damned rascals showed their good sense; he'd grant them that! Swelling
+with pride, he carried the scrawl to Mahaffy.
+
+"They are forming their estimate of me, Solomon; I shall have them on
+the run yet!" he declared.
+
+"You are going out of your way to hunt trouble--as if you hadn't enough
+at the best of times, Price! Let these people manage their own affairs,
+don't you mix up in them," advised the conservative Mahaffy.
+
+The judge drew himself up with an air of lofty pride.
+
+"Do you think I am going to be silenced, intimidated, by this sort of
+thing? No, sir! No, Solomon, the stopper isn't made that will fit my
+mouth."
+
+A few moments later he burst in on Mr. Saul.
+
+"Glance at that, my friend!" he cried, as he tossed the paper on the
+clerk's desk. "Eh, what?--no joke about that, Mr. Saul. I found it under
+my door this morning." Mr. Saul glanced at the penciled lines and drew
+in his breath sharply. "What do you make of it, sir?" demanded the judge
+anxiously.
+
+"Well, of course, you'll do as you please, but I'd keep still."
+
+"You mean you regard this as an authentic expression, sir, and not as
+the joke of some irresponsible humorist?"
+
+"It's authentic enough," said Mr. Saul impatiently.
+
+The judge gave a sigh of relief; he could have hugged the little clerk
+who had put to rest certain miserable doubts that had assailed him.
+
+"Sir, I wish it known that I hold the writer and his threats in
+contempt; if I have given offense it is to an element I shall never seek
+to conciliate." Mr. Saul was clearly divided between his admiration for
+the judge's courage and fear for his safety. "One thing is proven, sir,"
+the judge went on; "the man who murdered that poor boy is in our midst;
+that point can no longer be disputed. Now, where are their fine-spun
+theories as to how he crossed to the Arkansas coast? What does their
+mass of speculation and conjecture amount to in the face of this?" He
+breathed deep. "My God, sir, the murderer may be the very next man you
+pass the time of day with!" Mr. Saul shivered uncomfortably. "And the
+case in the hands of that pin-headed fool, Betts!" The judge laughed
+derisively as he bowed himself out. He left it with Mr. Saul to
+disseminate the news. The judge strutted home with his hat cocked over
+one eye, and his chest expanded to such limits that it menaced all
+his waistcoat buttons. Perhaps he was under observation. Ah, let the
+cutthroats look their full at him!
+
+He established himself in his office. He had scarcely done so when Mr.
+Betts knocked at the door. The sheriff came direct from Mr. Saul and
+arrived out of breath, but the letter was not mentioned by the judge.
+He spoke of the crops, the chance of rain, and the intricacies of county
+politics. The sheriff withdrew mystified, wondering why it was he had
+not felt at liberty to broach the subject which was uppermost in
+his mind. His place was taken by Mr. Pegloe, and on the heels of
+the tavern-keeper came Mr. Bowen. Judge Price received them with
+condescension, but back of the condescension was an air of reserve
+that did not invite questions. The judge discussed the extension of
+the national roads with Mr. Pegloe, and the religion of the Persian
+fire-worshipers with Mr. Bowen; he permitted never a pause and they
+retired as the sheriff had done without sight of the letter.
+
+The judge's office became a perfect Mecca for the idle and the curious,
+and while he overflowed with high-bred courtesy he had never seemed so
+unapproachable--never so remote from matters of local and contemporary
+interest.
+
+"Why don't you show 'em the letter?" demanded Mr. Mahaffy, when they
+were alone. "Can't you see they are suffering for a sight of it?"
+
+"All in good time, Solomon." He became thoughtful. "Solomon, I am
+thinking of offering a reward for any information that will lead to the
+discovery of my anonymous correspondent," he at length observed with a
+finely casual air, as if the idea had just occurred to him, and had not
+been seething in his brain all day.
+
+"There you go, Price--" began Mahaffy.
+
+"Solomon, this is no time for me to hang back. I shall offer a reward
+of five thousand dollars for this information." The judge's tone was
+resolute. "Yes, sir, I shall make the figure commensurate with the
+poignant grief I feel. He was my friend and client--" The moisture
+gathered in his eyes.
+
+"I should think that fifty dollars was nearer to being your figure,"
+suggested the cautious Mahaffy.
+
+"Inadequate and most insulting," said the judge.
+
+"Well, where do you expect to get five thousand dollars?" cried Mahaffy
+in a tone of absolute exasperation.
+
+"Where would I get fifty?" inquired the judge mildly.
+
+For once Mahaffy frankly owned himself beaten. A gleam of admiration lit
+up his glance.
+
+"Price, you have a streak of real greatness!" he declared.
+
+Before the day was over it was generally believed that the judge was
+wearing his gag with humility; interest in him declined, still the
+public would have been grateful for a sight of that letter.
+
+"Shucks, he's nothing but an old windbag!" said Mr. Pegloe to a group of
+loungers gathered before his tavern in the early evening.
+
+As he spoke, the judge's door opened and that gentleman appeared on his
+threshold with a lighted candle in each hand. Glancing neither to the
+right nor the left he passed out and up the street. Not a breath of wind
+was blowing and the flames of the two candles burnt clear and strong,
+lighting up his stately advance.
+
+At the corner of the court-house green stood a row of locust hitching
+posts. Two of these the judge decorated with his candles, next he
+measured off fifteen paces, strides as liberal as he could make them
+without sacrifice to his dignity; he scored a deep line in the dust
+with the heel of his boot, toed it squarely, and drew himself up to his
+fullest height. His right hand was seen to disappear under the frayed
+tails of his coat, it reappeared and was raised with a movement quicker
+than the eye could follow and a pistol shot rang out. One of the candles
+was neatly snuffed.
+
+The judge allowed himself a covert glance in the direction of the
+loungers before the tavern. He was aware that a larger audience was
+assembling. A slight smile relaxed the firm set of his lips. The
+remaining candle sputtered feebly. The judge walked to the post and
+cleared the wick from tallow with his thumb-nail. There was no haste in
+any of his movements; his was the deliberation of conscious efficiency.
+Resuming his former station back of the line he had drawn in the dusty
+road he permitted his eye to gauge the distance afresh, then his hand
+was seen to pass deftly to his left hip pocket, the long barrel of the
+rifle pistol was leveled, the piece cracked, and the candle's yellow
+flame vanished.
+
+The judge pocketed his pistol, walked down the street, and with never a
+glance toward the tavern reentered his house.
+
+The next morning it was discovered that sometime during the night the
+judge had tacked his anonymous communication on the court-house door;
+just below it was another sheet of paper covered with bold script:
+
+
+"TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: Judge Slocum Price assumes that the above was
+intended for him since he found it under his office door on the morning
+of the twenty-fifth inst.
+
+"Judge Price begs leave to state it as his unqualified conviction that
+the writer is a coward and a cur, and offers a reward of five thousand
+dollars for any information that will lead to his identification.
+
+"Judge Price has stated that he would conduct an intelligently directed
+investigation of the Norton murder mystery without remuneration. He
+has the honor to assure his friends that he is still willing to do so;
+however, he takes this opportunity to warn the public that each day's
+delay is a matter of the utmost gravity.
+
+"Furthermore, judge Price avails himself on this occasion to say that
+he has no wish to avoid personal conclusions with the murderers and
+cutthroats who are terrorizing this community; on the contrary, he will
+continue earnestly to seek such personal conclusions."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. THE CABIN ACROSS THE BAYOU
+
+
+Tom Ware was seated alone over his breakfast. He had left his bed as
+the pale morning light crept across the great fields that were alike his
+pride and his despair--what was the use of trying to sleep when sleep
+was an impossibility! The memory of that tragedy at the church door was
+a black horror to him; it gave substance to his dreams, it brought him
+awake with writhing lips that voiced his fear in the dead stillness of
+the night. The days were scarcely less terrible. Steeled and resolute
+as his will could make him, he was not able to speak of what he had seen
+with composure. Being as he was in this terribly perturbed state he had
+shirked his morning toilet and presented a proportionately haggard
+and unkempt appearance. He was about to quit the table when big Steve
+entered the room to say there was a white fellow at the door wished to
+see him.
+
+"Fetch him along in here," said Ware briefly, without lifting his
+bloodshot eyes.
+
+Brought into his presence the white fellow delivered a penciled note
+which proved to be from Murrell, and then on Ware's invitation partook
+of whisky. When he was gone, the planter ordered his horse, and while he
+waited for it to be brought up from the stables, reread Murrell's
+note. The expression of his unprepossessing features indicated what
+was passing in his mind, his mood was one of sullen rebellion. He felt
+Murrell was bent on committing him to an aggregate of crime he
+would never have considered possible, and all for love of a girl--a
+pink-cheeked, white-faced chit of a girl--disgust boiled up within him,
+rage choked him; this was the rotten spot in Murrell's make-up, the man
+was mad-stark mad!
+
+As Ware rode away from Belle Plain he cursed him under his breath with
+vindictive thoroughness. His own inclination toward evil was never very
+robust; he could have connived and schemed over a long period of
+years to despoil Betty of her property, he would have counted this a
+legitimate field for enterprise; but murder and abduction was quite
+another thing. He would wash his hands of all further connection with
+Murrell, he had other things to lose besides Belle Plain, and the
+present would be as good a time as any to let the outlaw know he could
+be coerced and bullied no longer. But he had a saving recollection
+of the way in which Murrell dealt with what he counted treachery; an
+unguarded word, and he would not dare to travel those roads even at
+broad noon-day, while to pass before a lighted window at night would be
+to invite death; nowhere would he be safe.
+
+Three miles from Belle Plain he entered a bridle path that led toward
+the river; he was now traversing a part of the Quintard tract. Two miles
+from the point where he had quitted the main road he came out upon the
+shores of a wide bayou. Looking across this he saw at a distance of half
+a mile what seemed to be a clearing of considerable extent, it was the
+first sign of human occupation he had seen since leaving Belle Plain.
+
+An impenetrable swamp defended the head of the bayou which he skirted.
+Doubling back as though he were going to retrace his steps to Belle
+Plain, finally he gained a position opposite the clearing which still
+showed remotely across the wide reach of sluggish water. Here he
+dismounted and tied his horse, then as one tolerably familiar with the
+locality and its resources, he went down to the shore and launched a
+dugout which he found concealed in some bushes; entering it he pointed
+its blunt bow in the direction of the clearing opposite. A growth of
+small timber was still standing along the water's edge, but as he drew
+nearer, those betterments which the resident of that lonely spot had
+seen fit to make for his own convenience, came under his scrutiny; these
+consisted of a log cabin and several lesser sheds. Landing and securing
+his dug-out by the simple expedient of dragging half its length out of
+the water, he advanced toward the cabin. As he did so he saw two
+women at work heckling flax under an open shed. They were the wife and
+daughter of George Hicks, his overseer's brother.
+
+"Morning, Mrs. Hicks," he said, addressing himself to the mother, a
+hulking ruffian of a woman.
+
+"Howdy, sir?" she answered. Her daughter glanced indifferently in Ware's
+direction. She was a fine strapping girl, giving that sense of physical
+abundance which the planter admired.
+
+"They'd better keep her out of Murrell's way!" he thought; aloud he
+said, "Anybody with the captain?"
+
+"Colonel Fentress is."
+
+"Humph!" muttered Ware. He moved to the door of the cabin and pushing
+it open, entered the room where Murrell and Fentress were seated facing
+each other across the breakfast table. The planter nodded curtly. He had
+not seen Murrell since the murder, and the sight of him quickened the
+spirit of antagonism which he had been nursing. "You roust a fellow out
+early enough!" he grumbled, rubbing his unshaven chin with the back of
+his hand.
+
+"I was afraid you'd be gone somewhere. Sit down--here, between the
+colonel and me," said Murrell.
+
+"Well, what the devil do you want of me anyhow?" demanded the planter.
+
+"How's your sister, Tom?" inquired Murrell.
+
+"I reckon she's the way you'd expect her to be." Ware dropped his voice
+to a whisper. Those women were just the other side of the logs, he could
+hear them at their work.
+
+"Who's at Belle Plain now?" continued Murrell.
+
+"Bowen's wife and daughter have stayed," answered Ware, still in a
+whisper.
+
+"For how long, Tom? Do you know?"
+
+"They were to go home after breakfast this morning; the daughter's to
+come out again to-morrow and stay with Betty until she leaves."
+
+"What's that you're saying?" cried Murrell.
+
+"She's going back to North Carolina to those friends of hers; it's no
+concern of mine, she does what she likes without consulting me." There
+was a brief pause during which Murrell scowled at the planter.
+
+"I reckon your heart's tender, too!" he presently said. Ware's dull
+glance shifted to Fentress, but the colonel's cold and impassive
+exterior forbade the thought that his sympathy had been roused.
+
+"It isn't that," Ware muttered, moistening his lips. He felt the utter
+futility of opposition. "I am for letting things rest just where they
+are," again his voice slid into a husky whisper. "You'll be running all
+our heads into a halter, the first thing you know--and this isn't any
+place to talk over such matters, there are too many people about."
+
+"There's only Bess and the old woman busy outside," said Murrell.
+
+"What's to hinder them from sticking an ear to a chink in the logs?"
+
+"Go on, and finish what you've got to say, and get it off your mind,"
+said Murrell.
+
+"Well, then, I want to tell you that I consider you didn't regard me at
+all in the way you managed that business at the church! If I had known
+what was due to happen there, do you think I'd have gone near the place?
+But you let me go! I met you on the road and you told me you'd learned
+Norton had been to see Bowen, you told me that much, but you didn't tell
+me near all you might!" Ware was bitter and resentful; again he felt the
+sweat of a mortal terror drip from him.
+
+"It was the best thing for you that it happened the way it did,"
+rejoined Murrell coolly. "No one will ever think you had a hand in it."
+
+"It wasn't right! You placed me in the meanest kind of a situation,"
+objected Ware sullenly, mopping his face.
+
+"Did you think I was going to let the marriage take place? You knew
+he had been warned to keep away from her," said Murrell. There was a
+movement overhead in the loft, the loose clapboards with which it was
+floored creaked under a heavy tread.
+
+"Who's that? Hicks?" asked Ware.
+
+"It isn't Hicks--never mind who it is, Tom," answered Murrell quietly.
+
+"I thought you'd sent him out of the county?" muttered Ware, his face
+livid.
+
+"Look here, Tom, I don't ask your help, but I won't stand your
+interference. I'm going to have the girl."
+
+"John, you'll ruin yourself with your damned crazy infatuation!" It was
+Fentress, no longer able to control himself, who spoke.
+
+"No, I won't, Colonel, but I'm not going to discuss that. All I want is
+for Tom to go to Memphis and stay there for a couple of days. When he
+comes back Belle Plain and its niggers will be as good as his. I am
+going to take the girl away from there to-night. I don't ask your
+help and you needn't ask what comes of her afterward. That will be my
+affair." Murrell's burning eyes shifted from one to the other.
+
+"A beautiful and accomplished young lady--a great heiress--is to
+disappear and no solution of the mystery demanded by the public
+at large!" said Fentress with an acid smile. Murrell laughed
+contemptuously.
+
+"What's all this fuss over Norton's death amounted to?" he said.
+
+"Are you sure you have come to the end of that, John?" inquired
+Fentress, still smiling.
+
+"I don't propose to debate this further," rejoined Murrell haughtily.
+Instantly the colonel's jaw became rigid. The masterful airs of this
+cutthroat out of the hills irked him beyond measure. Murrell turned to
+Ware.
+
+"How soon can you get away from here, Tom?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"By God, I can't go too soon!" cried the planter, staggering to his
+feet. He gave Fentress a hopeless beaten look. "You're my witness that
+first and last I've no part in this!" he added.
+
+The colonel merely shrugged his shoulders. Murrell reached out a
+detaining hand and rested it on Ware's arm.
+
+"Keep your wits about you, Tom, and within a week people will have
+forgotten all about Norton and your sister. I am going to give them
+something else to worry over."
+
+Ware went from the cabin, and as the door swung shut Fentress faced
+Murrell across the table.
+
+"I've gone as far with you in this affair as I can go; after all, as you
+say, it is a private matter. You reap the benefits--you and Tom between
+you--I shall give you a wide berth until you come to your senses.
+Frankly, if you think that in this late day in the world you can carry
+off an unwilling girl, your judgment is faulty."
+
+"Hold on, Colonel--how do you know she is going to prove unwilling?"
+objected Murrell, grinning.
+
+Fentress gave him a glance of undisguised contempt and rose from his
+seat.
+
+"I admit your past successes, John--that is, I take your word for
+them--but Miss Malroy is a lady."
+
+"I have heard enough!" said Murrell angrily.
+
+"So have I, John," retorted the colonel in a tone that was unvexed but
+final, "and I shall count it a favor if you will never refer to her in
+my hearing." He moved in the direction of the door.
+
+"Oh, you and I are not going to lose our tempers over this!" began
+Murrell. "Come, sit down again, Colonel!" he concluded with great good
+nature.
+
+"We shall never agree, John--you have one idea and I another."
+
+"We'll let the whole matter drop out of our talk. Look here, how about
+the boy--are you ready for him if I can get my hands on him?"
+
+Fentress considered. From the facts he had gathered he knew that the man
+who called himself Judge Price must soon run his course in Raleigh, and
+then as inevitably push out for fresh fields. Any morning might find him
+gone and the boy with him.
+
+"I can't take him to my place as I had intended doing; under the
+circumstances that is out of the question," he said at length.
+
+"Of course; but I'll send him either up or down the river and place him
+in safe keeping where you can get him any time you want."
+
+"This must be done without violence, John!" stipulated Fentress.
+
+"Certainly, I understand that perfectly well. It wouldn't suit your
+schemes to have that brace of old sots handled by the Clan. Which shall
+it be--up or down river?"
+
+"Could you take care of him for me below, at Natchez?" inquired
+Fentress.
+
+"As well there as anywhere, Colonel, and he'll pass into safe hands; he
+won't give me the slip the second time!"
+
+"Good!" said Fentress, and took his leave.
+
+From the window Murrell watched him cross the clearing, followed by the
+girl, Bess, who was to row him over to the opposite shore. He reflected
+that these men--the Wares and Fentresses and their like--were keen
+enough where they had schemes of their own they wished put through;
+it was only when he reached out empty hands that they reckoned the
+consequences.
+
+Three-quarters of an hour slipped by, then, piercing the silence,
+Murrell heard a shrill whistle; it was twice repeated; he saw Bess go
+down to the landing again. A half-hour elapsed and a man issued from
+the scattering growth of bushes that screened the shore. The new-comer
+crossed the clearing and entered the cabin. He was a young fellow of
+twenty-four or five, whose bronzed and sunburnt face wore a somewhat
+reckless expression.
+
+"Well, Captain, what's doing?" he asked, as he shook hands with Murrell.
+
+"I've been waiting for you, Hues," said Murrell. He continued, "I reckon
+the time's here when nothing will be gained by delay."
+
+Hues dropped down on a three-legged stool and looked at the
+outlaw fixedly and in silence for a moment. At length he nodded
+understandingly.
+
+"You mean?"
+
+"If anything's to be done, now is the time. What have you to report?"
+
+"Well, I've seen the council of each Clan division. They are ripe to
+start this thing off."
+
+Murrell gave him a moment of moody regard.
+
+"Twice already I've named the day and hour, but now I'm going to put it
+through!" He set his teeth and thrust out his jaw.
+
+"Captain, you're the greatest fellow in America! Inside of a week men
+who have never been within five hundred miles of you will be asking each
+other who John Murrell is!"
+
+Murrell had expected to part with Hues then and there and for all time,
+but Hues possessed qualities which might still be of use to him.
+
+"What do you expect to do for yourself?" he demanded. The other laughed
+shortly.
+
+"Captain, I'm going to get rich while I have the chance. Ain't that what
+we are all after?"
+
+"How?" inquired Murrell quietly. Hues shifted his seat.
+
+"I'm sensitive about calling things by their short names;" he gave way
+to easy laughter; "but if you've got anything special you're saving for
+yourself, I'm free to say I'd rather take chances with you than with
+another," he finished carelessly.
+
+"Hues, you must start back across Tennessee. Make it Sunday at
+midnight--that's three days off." Unconsciously his voice sank to a
+whisper.
+
+"Sunday at midnight," repeated Hues slowly.
+
+"When you have passed the word into middle Tennessee, turn south and
+make the best of your way to New Orleans. Don't stop for anything--push
+through as fast as you can. You'll find me there. I've a notion you and
+I will quit the country together."
+
+"Quit the country! Why, Captain, who's talking of quitting the country?"
+
+"You speak as though you were fool enough to think the niggers would
+accomplish something!" said Murrell coolly. "There will be confusion at
+first, but there are enough white men in the southwest to handle a
+heap better organized insurrection than we'll be able to set going. Our
+fellows will have to use their heads as well as their hands or they are
+likely to help the nigger swallow his medicine. I look for nothing
+else than considerable of a shake-up along the Mississippi... what with
+lynchers and regulators a man will have to show a clean bill of health
+to be allowed to live, no matter what his color--just being white won't
+help him any!"
+
+"No, you're right, it won't!" and again Hues gave way to easy laughter.
+
+"When you've done your work you strike south as I tell you and join me.
+I'm going to keep New Orleans for myself--it's my ambition to destroy
+the city Old Hickory saved!"
+
+"And then it's change your name and strike out for Texas with what
+you've picked up!"
+
+"No, it isn't! I'll have my choice of men--a river full of ships. Look
+here, there's South America, or some of those islands in the gulf with
+a black-and-tan population and a few white mongrels holding on to
+civilization by their eye-teeth; what's to hinder our setting up shop
+for ourselves? Two or three hundred Americans could walk off with an
+island like Hayti, for instance--and it's black with niggers. What
+we'd done here would be just so much capital down there. We'd make it a
+stamping-ground for the Clan! In the next two years we could bring in a
+couple of thousand Americans and then we'd be ready to take over their
+government, whether they liked it or not, and run it at a profit. We'd
+put the niggers back in slavery where they belong, and set them at work
+raising sugar and tobacco for their new bosses. Man, it's the richest
+land in the world, I tell you--and the mountains are full of gold!"
+
+Hues had kindled with a ready enthusiasm while Murrell was speaking.
+
+"That sounds right, Captain--we'd have a country and a flag of our
+own--and I look at those free niggers as just so much boot!"
+
+"I shall take only picked men with me--I can't give ship room to any
+other--but I want you. You'll join me in New Orleans?" said Murrell.
+
+"When do you start south?" asked Hues quickly.
+
+"Inside of two days. I've got some private business to settle before I
+leave. I'll hang round here until that's attended to."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. THE JUDGE EXTENDS HIS CREDIT
+
+
+That afternoon Judge Price walked out to Belle Plain. Solomon Mahaffy
+had known that this was a civility Betty Malroy could by no means
+escape. He had been conscious of the judge's purpose from the moment
+it existed in the germ state, and he had striven to divert him, but
+his striving had been in vain, for though the judge valued Mr. Mahaffy
+because of certain sterling qualities which he professed to discern
+beneath the hard crust that made up the external man, he was not
+disposed to accept him as his mentor in nice matters of taste and
+gentlemanly feeling. He owed it to himself personally to tender his
+sympathy. Miss Malroy must have heard something of the honorable part
+he had played; surely she could not be in ignorance of the fact that the
+lawless element, dreading his further activities, had threatened
+him. She must know, too, about that reward of five thousand dollars.
+Certainly her grief could not blind her to the fact that he had met
+the situation with a largeness of public spirit that was an impressive
+lesson to the entire community.'
+
+These were all points over which he and Mahaffy had wrangled, and he
+felt that his friend, in seeking to keep him away from Belle Plain, was
+standing squarely in his light. He really could not understand Solomon
+or his objections. He pointed out that Norton had probably left a
+will--no one knew yet--probably his estate would go to his intended
+wife--what more likely? He understood Norton had cousins somewhere
+in middle Tennessee--there was the attractive possibility of extended
+litigation. Miss Malroy needed a strong, clear brain to guide her past
+those difficulties his agile fancy assembled in her path. He beamed on
+his friend with a wide sunny smile.
+
+"You mean she needs a lawyer, Price?" insinuated Mahaffy.
+
+"That slap at me, Solomon, is unworthy of you. Just name some one, will
+you, who has shown an interest comparable to mine? I may say I have
+devoted my entire energy to her affairs, and with disinterestedness. I
+have made myself felt. Will you mention who else these cutthroats
+have tried to browbeat and frighten? They know that my theories and
+conclusions are a menace to them! I got 'em in a panic, sir--presently
+some fellow will lose his nerve and light out for the tall timber--and
+it will be just Judge Slocum Price who's done the trick--no one else!"
+
+"Are you looking for some one to take a pot shot at you?" inquired
+Mahaffy sourly.
+
+"Your remark uncovers my fondest hope, Solomon--I'd give five years
+of my life just to be shot at--that would round out the episode of the
+letter nicely;" again the judge beamed on Mahaffy with that wide and
+sunny smile of his.
+
+"Why don't you let the boy go alone, Price?" suggested Mahaffy.
+He lacked that sense of sublime confidence in the judge's tact and
+discretion of which the judge, himself, entertained never a doubt.
+
+"I shall not obtrude myself, Solomon; I shall merely walk out to Belle
+Plain and leave a civil message. I know what's due Miss Malroy in her
+bereaved state--she has sustained no ordinary loss, and in no ordinary
+fashion. She has been the center of a striking and profoundly moving
+tragedy! I would give a good deal to know if my late client left a
+will--"
+
+"You might ask her," said Mahaffy cynically. "Nothing like going to
+headquarters for the news!"
+
+"Solomon, Solomon, give me credit for common sense--go further, and give
+me credit for common decency! Don't let us forget that ever since we
+came here she has manifested a charmingly hospitable spirit where we are
+concerned!"
+
+"Wouldn't charity hit nearer the mark, Price?"
+
+"I have never so regarded it, Solomon," said the judge mildly. "I have
+read a different meaning in the beef and flour and potatoes she's sent
+here. I expect if the truth could be known to us she is wondering in
+the midst of her grief why I haven't called, but she'll appreciate the
+considerate delicacy of a gentleman. I wish it were possible to get cut
+flowers in this cussed wilderness!"
+
+The judge had been occupied with a simple but ingenious toilet. He had
+trimmed the frayed skirts of, his coat; then by turning his cuffs inside
+out and upside down a fresh surface made its first public appearance.
+Next his shoes had engaged his attention. They might have well
+discouraged a less resolute and resourceful character, but with the
+contents of his ink-well he artfully colored his white yarn socks where
+they showed though the rifts in the leather. This the judge did gaily,
+now humming a snatch of song, now listening civilly to Mahaffy, now
+replying with undisturbed cheerfulness. Last of all he clapped his dingy
+beaver on his head, giving it an indescribably jaunty slant, and stepped
+to the door.
+
+"Well, wish me luck, Solomon, I'm off--come, Hannibal!" he said. At
+heart he cherished small hope of seeing Betty, advantageous as he
+felt an interview might prove. However, on reaching Belle Plain he and
+Hannibal were shown into the cool parlor by little Steve. It was more
+years than the judge cared to remember since he had put his foot inside
+such a house, but with true grandeur of soul he rose to the occasion;
+a sublimated dignity shone from every battered feature, while he fixed
+little Steve with so fierce a glance that the grin froze on his lips.
+
+"You are to say that judge Slocum Price presents his compliments and
+condolences to Miss Malroy--have you got that straight, you pinch
+of soot?" he concluded affably. Little Steve, impressed alike by the
+judge's air of condescension and his easy flow of words, signified that
+he had. "You may also say that judge Price's ward, young Master Hazard,
+presents his compliments and condolences--" What more the judge might
+have said was interrupted by the entrance of Betty, herself.
+
+"My dear young lady--" the judge bowed, then he advanced toward her
+with the solemnity of carriage and countenance he deemed suitable to
+the occasion, and her extended hand was engulfed between his two plump
+palms. He rolled his eyes heavenward. "It's the Lord's to deal with
+us as His own inscrutable wisdom dictates," he murmured with pious
+resignation. "We are all poorer, ma'am, that he has died--just as we
+were richer while he lived!" The rich cadence of the judge's speech fell
+sonorously on the silence, and that look of horror which had never quite
+left Betty's eyes since they saw Charley Norton fall, rose out of their
+clear depths again. The judge, instantly stricken with a sense of
+the inadequacy of his words, doubled on his spiritual tracks. "In a
+round-about way, ma'am, we're bound to believe in the omnipresence of
+Providence--we must think it--though a body might be disposed to hold
+that west Tennessee had got out of the line of divine supervision
+recently. Let me lead you to a chair, ma'am!"
+
+Hannibal had slipped to Betty's side and placed his hand in hers. The
+judge regarded the pair with great benevolence of expression. "He would
+come, and I hadn't the heart to forbid it. If I can be of any service
+to you, ma'am, either in the capacity of a friend--or professionally--I
+trust you will not hesitate to command me--" The judge backed toward the
+door.
+
+"Did you walk out, Judge Price?" asked Betty kindly.
+
+"Nothing more than a healthful exercise--but we will not detain you,
+ma'am; the pleasure of seeing you is something we had not reckoned on!"
+The judge's speech was thick and unctuous with good feeling. He wished
+that Mahaffy might have been there to note the reserve and dignity of
+his deportment.
+
+"But you must let me order luncheon for you," said Betty. At least this
+questionable old man was good to Hannibal.
+
+"I couldn't think of it, ma'am--"
+
+"You'll have a glass of wine, then," urged Betty hospitably. For the
+moment she had lost sight of what was clearly the judge's besetting sin.
+
+The judge paused abruptly. He endured a moment of agonizing
+irresolution.
+
+"On the advice of my physician I dare not touch wine--gout, ma'am,
+and liver--but this restriction does not apply to corn whisky--in
+moderation, and as a tonic--either before meals, immediately after meals
+or at any time between meals--always keeping in mind the idea of its
+tonic properties--" The judge seemed to mellow and ripen. This was
+much better than having the dogs sicked on you! His manner toward Betty
+became almost fatherly. Poor young thing, so lonely and desolate in the
+midst of all this splendor--he surreptitiously wiped away a tear,
+and when little Steve presented himself and was told to bring whisky,
+audibly smacked his lips--a whole lot better, surely!
+
+"I am sorry you think you must hurry away, Judge Price," said Betty. She
+still retained the small brown hand Hannibal had thrust into hers.
+
+"The eastern mail gets in to-day, ma'am, and I have reason to think
+my share of it will be especially heavy, for it brings the bulk of my
+professional correspondence." In ten years the judge had received just
+one communication by mail--a bill which had followed him through four
+states and seven counties. "I expect my secretary--" boldly fixing
+Solomon Mahaffy's status, "is already dipping into it; an excellent
+assistant, ma'am, but literary rather than legal."
+
+Little Steve reappeared bearing a silver tray on which was a decanter
+and glass.
+
+"Since you insist, ma'am," the judge poured himself a drink, "my best
+respects--" he bowed profoundly.
+
+"If you are quite willing, judge, I think I will keep Hannibal. Miss
+Bowen, who has been here--since--" her voice broke suddenly.
+
+"I understand, ma'am," said the judge soothingly. He gave her a glance
+of great concern and turned to Hannibal. "Dear lad, you'll be very quiet
+and obedient, and do exactly as Miss Malroy says? When shall I come for
+him, ma'am?"
+
+"I'll send him to you when he is ready to go home. I am thinking of
+visiting my friends in North Carolina, and I should like to have him
+spend as much time as possible with me before I start for the East."
+
+It had occurred to Betty that she had done little or nothing for the
+child; probably this would be her last opportunity.
+
+The state of the judge's feelings was such that with elaborate absence
+of mind he poured himself a second drink of whisky; and that there
+should be no doubt the act was one of inadvertence, said again, "My best
+respects, ma'am," and bowed as before. Putting down the glass he backed
+toward the door.
+
+"I trust you will not hesitate to call upon me if I can be of any use to
+you, ma'am--a message will bring me here without a moment's delay." He
+was rather disappointed that no allusion had been made to his recent
+activities. He reasoned correctly that Betty was as yet in ignorance of
+the somewhat dangerous eminence he had achieved as the champion of law
+and order. However, he reflected with satisfaction that Hannibal, in
+remaining, would admirably serve his ends.
+
+Betty insisted that he should be driven home, and after faintly
+protesting, the judge gracefully yielded the point, and a few moments
+later rolled away from Belle Plain behind a pair of sleek-coated bays,
+with a negro in livery on the box. He was conscious of a great sense of
+exaltation. He felt that he should paralyze Mahaffy. He even temporarily
+forgot the blow his hopes had sustained when Betty spoke of returning to
+North Carolina. This was life--broad acres and niggers--principally
+to trot after you toting liquor--and such liquor!--he lolled back
+luxuriantly with half-closed eyes.
+
+"Twenty years in the wood if an hour!" he muttered. "I'd like to have
+just such a taste in my mouth when I come to die--and probably she has
+barrels of it!" he sighed deeply, and searched his soul for words with
+which adequately to describe that whisky to Mahaffy.
+
+But why not do more than paralyze Solomon--that would be pleasant but
+not especially profitable. The judge came back quickly to the vexed
+problem of his future. He desired to make some striking display of Miss
+Malroy's courtesy. He knew that his credit was experiencing the pangs of
+an early mortality; he was not sensitive, yet for some days he had
+been sensible of the fact that what he called the commercial class was
+viewing him with open disfavor, but he must hang on in Raleigh a little
+longer--for him it had become the abode of hope. The judge considered
+the matter. At least he could let people see something of that decent
+respect with which Miss Malroy treated him.
+
+They were entering Raleigh now, and he ordered the coachman to pull his
+horses down to a walk. He had decided to make use of the Belle Plain
+turnout in creating an atmosphere of confidence and trust--especially
+trust. To this end he spent the best part of an hour interviewing
+his creditors. It amounted almost to a mass-meeting of the adult male
+population, for he had no favorites. When he invaded virgin territory
+he believed in starting the largest possible number of accounts without
+delay. The advantage of his system, as he explained its workings to
+Mahaffy, was that it bred a noble spirit of emulation. He let it be
+known in a general way that things were looking up with him; just in
+what quarter he did not specify, but there he was, seated in the Belle
+Plain carriage and the inference was unavoidable that Miss Malroy was to
+recognize his activities in a substantial manner.
+
+Mahaffy, loafing away the afternoon in the county clerk's office, heard
+of the judge's return. He heard that Charley Norton had left a will;
+that Thicket Point went to Miss Malroy; that the Norton cousins in
+middle Tennessee were going to put up a fight; that Judge Price had been
+retained as counsel by Miss Malroy; that he was authorized to begin an
+independent search for Charley Norton's murderer, and was to spare no
+expense; that Judge Price was going to pay his debts. Mahaffy grinned at
+this and hurried home. He could believe all but the last, that was the
+crowning touch of unreality.
+
+The judge explained the situation.
+
+"I wouldn't withhold hope from any man, Solomon; it's the cheapest thing
+in the world and the one thing we are most miserly about extending
+to our fellows. These people all feel better--and what did it cost
+me?--just a little decent consideration; just the knowledge of what the
+unavoidable associations of ideas in their own minds would do for them!"
+
+What had seemed the corpse of credit breathed again, and the judge and
+Mahaffy immediately embarked upon a characteristic celebration. Early
+candlelight found them making a beginning; midnight came--the gray and
+purple of dawn--and they were still at it, back of closed doors and
+shuttered windows.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. BETTY LEAVES BELLE PLAIN
+
+
+Hannibal had devoted himself loyally to the judge's glorification, and
+Betty heard all about the letter, the snuffing of the candles and the
+reward of five thousand dollars. It vastly increased the child's sense
+of importance and satisfaction when he discovered she had known nothing
+of these matters until he told her of them.
+
+"Why, where would Judge Price get so much money, Hannibal?" she asked,
+greatly astonished.
+
+"He won't have to get it, Miss Betty; Mr. Mahaffy says he don't reckon
+no one will ever tell who wrote the letter--he 'lows the man who done
+that will keep pretty mum--he just dassent tell!" the boy explained.
+
+"No, I suppose not--" and Betty saw that perhaps, after all, the judge
+had not assumed any very great financial responsibility. "He can't be a
+coward, though, Hannibal!" she added, for she understood that the risk
+of personal violence which he ran was quite genuine. She had formed her
+own unsympathetic estimate of him that day at Boggs' race-track; Mahaffy
+in his blackest hour could have added nothing to it. Twice since then
+she had met him in Raleigh, which had only served to fix that first
+impression.
+
+"Miss Betty, he's just like my Uncle Bob was--he ain't afraid of
+nothing! He totes them pistols of his--loaded--if you notice good you
+can see where they bulge out his coat!" Hannibal's eyes, very round and
+big, looked up into hers.
+
+"Is he as poor as he seems, Hannibal?" inquired Betty.
+
+"He never has no money, Miss Betty, but I don't reckon he's what a body
+would call pore."
+
+It might have baffled a far more mature intelligence than Hannibal's to
+comprehend those peculiar processes by which the judge sustained himself
+and his intimate fellowship with adversity--that it was his magnificence
+of mind which made the squalor of his daily life seem merely a passing
+phase--but the boy had managed to point a delicate distinction, and
+Betty grasped something of the hope and faith which never quite died out
+in Slocum Price's indomitable breast.
+
+"But you always have enough to eat, dear?" she questioned anxiously.
+Hannibal promptly reassured her on this point. "You wouldn't let me
+think anything that was not true, Hannibal--you are quite sure you have
+never been hungry?"
+
+"Never, Miss Betty; honest!"
+
+Betty gave a sigh of relief. She had been reproaching herself for her
+neglect of the child; she had meant to do so much for him and had done
+nothing! Now it was too late for her personally to interest herself in
+his behalf, yet before she left for the East she would provide for him.
+If she had felt it was possible to trust the judge she would have
+made him her agent, but even in his best aspect he seemed a dubious
+dependence. Tom, for quite different reasons, was equally out of the
+question. She thought of Mr. Mahaffy.
+
+"What kind of a man is Mr. Mahaffy, Hannibal?"
+
+"He's an awful nice man, Miss Betty, only he never lets on; a body's got
+to find it out for his own self--he ain't like the judge."
+
+"Does he--drink, too, Hannibal?" questioned Betty.
+
+"Oh, yes; when he can get the licker, he does." It was evident that
+Hannibal was cheerfully tolerant of this weakness on the part of the
+austere Mahaffy. By this time Betty was ready to weep over the child,
+with his knowledge of shabby vice, and his fresh young faith in those
+old tatterdemalions.
+
+"But, no matter what they do, they are very, very kind to you?" she
+continued quite tremulously.
+
+"Yes, ma'am--why, Miss Betty, they're lovely men!"
+
+"And do you ever hear the things spoken of you learned about at Mrs.
+Ferris' Sunday-school?"
+
+"When the judge is drunk he talks a heap about 'em. It's beautiful
+to hear him then; you'd love it, Miss Betty," and Hannibal smiled up
+sweetly into her face.
+
+"Does he have you go to Sunday-school in Raleigh?"
+
+The boy shook his head.
+
+"I ain't got no clothes that's fitten to wear, nor no pennies to give,
+but the judge, he 'lows that as soon as he can make a raise I got to
+go, and he's learning me my letters--but we ain't a book. Miss Betty, I
+reckon it'd stump you some to guess how he's fixed it for me to learn?"
+
+"He's drawn the letters for you, is that the way?" In spite of herself,
+Betty was experiencing a certain revulsion of feeling where the judge
+and Mahaffy were concerned. They were doubtless bad enough, but they
+could have been worse.
+
+"No, ma'am; he done soaked the label off one of Mr. Pegloe's whisky
+bottles and pasted it on the wall just as high as my chin, so's I can
+see it good, and he's learning me that-a-ways! Maybe you've seen the
+kind of bottle I mean--Pegloe's Mississippi Pilot: Pure Corn Whisky?"
+But Hannibal's bright little face fell. He was quick to see that the
+educational system devised by the judge did not impress Betty at all
+favorably. She drew him into her arms.
+
+"You shall have my books--the books I learned to read out of when I was
+a little girl, Hannibal!"
+
+"I like learning from the label pretty well," said Hannibal loyally.
+
+"But you'll like the books better, dear, when you see them. I know just
+where they are, for I happened on them on a shelf in the library only
+the other day."
+
+After they had found and examined the books and Hannibal had grudgingly
+admitted that they might possess certain points of advantage over the
+label, he and Betty went out for a walk. It was now late afternoon and
+the sun was sinking behind the wall of the forest that rose along the
+Arkansas coast. Their steps had led them to the terrace where they stood
+looking off into the west. It was here that Betty had said good-by to
+Bruce Carrington--it might have been months ago, and it was only days.
+She thought of Charley--Charley, with his youth and hope and high
+courage--unwittingly enough she had led him on to his death! A sob rose
+in her throat.
+
+Hannibal looked up into her face. The memory of his own loss was never
+very long absent from his mind, and Miss Betty had been the victim of
+a similarly sinister tragedy. He recalled those first awful days
+of loneliness through which he had lived, when there was no Uncle
+Bob--soft-voiced, smiling and infinitely companionable.
+
+"Why, Hannibal, you are crying--what about, dear?" asked Betty suddenly.
+
+"No, ma'am; I ain't crying," said Hannibal stoutly, but his wet lashes
+gave the lie to his words.
+
+"Are you homesick--do you wish to go back to the judge and Mr. Mahaffy?"
+
+"No, ma'am--it ain't that--I was just thinking--"
+
+"Thinking about what, dear?"
+
+"About my Uncle Bob." The small face was very wistful.
+
+"Oh--and you still miss him so much, Hannibal?"
+
+"I bet I do--I reckon anybody who knew Uncle Bob would never get over
+missing him; they just couldn't, Miss Betty! The judge is mighty kind,
+and so is Mr. Mahaffy--they're awful kind, Miss Betty, and it seems like
+they get kinder all the time--but with Uncle Bob, when he liked you, he
+just laid himself out to let you know it!"
+
+"That does make a great difference, doesn't it?" agreed Betty sadly, and
+two piteous tearful eyes were bent upon him.
+
+"Don't you reckon if Uncle Bob is alive, like the judge says, and
+he's ever going to find me, he had ought to be here by now?" continued
+Hannibal anxiously.
+
+"But it hasn't been such a great while, Hannibal; it's only that so much
+has happened to you. If he was very badly hurt it may have been weeks
+before he could travel; and then when he could, perhaps he went back to
+that tavern to try to learn what had become of you. But we may be
+quite certain he will never abandon his search until he has made every
+possible effort to find you, dear! That means he will sooner or later
+come to west Tennessee, for there will always be the hope that you have
+found your way here."
+
+"Sometimes I get mighty tired waiting, Miss Betty," confessed the boy.
+"Seems like I just couldn't wait no longer." He sighed gently, and then
+his face cleared. "You reckon he'll come most any time, don't you, Miss
+Betty?"
+
+"Yes, Hannibal; any day or hour!"
+
+"Whoop!" muttered Hannibal softly under his breath. Presently he asked:
+"Where does that branch take you to?" He nodded toward the bayou at the
+foot of the terraced bluff.
+
+"It empties into the river," answered Betty.
+
+Hannibal saw a small skiff beached among the cottonwoods that grew along
+the water's edge and his eyes lighted up instantly. He had a juvenile
+passion for boats.
+
+"Why, you got a boat, ain't you, Miss Betty?" This was a charming and an
+important discovery.
+
+"Would you like to go down to it?" inquired Betty.
+
+"'Deed I would! Does she leak any, Miss Betty?"
+
+"I don't know about that. Do boats usually leak, Hannibal?"
+
+"Why, you ain't ever been out rowing in her, Miss Betty, have you?--and
+there ain't no better fun than rowing a boat!" They had started down the
+path.
+
+"I used to think that, too, Hannibal; how do you suppose it is that when
+people grow up they forget all about the really nice things they might
+do?"
+
+"What use is she if you don't go rowing in her?" persisted Hannibal.
+
+"Oh, but it is used. Mr. Tom uses it in crossing to the other side where
+they are clearing land for cotton. It saves him a long walk or ride
+about the head of the bayou."
+
+"Like I should take you out in her, Miss Betty?" demanded Hannibal with
+palpitating anxiety.
+
+They had entered the scattering timber when Betty paused suddenly with
+a startled exclamation, and Hannibal felt her fingers close convulsively
+about his. The sound she had heard might have been only the rustling
+of the wind among the branches overhead in that shadowy silence, but
+Betty's nerves, the placid nerves of youth and perfect health, were
+shattered.
+
+"Didn't you hear something, Hannibal?" she whispered fearfully.
+
+For answer Hannibal pointed mysteriously, and glancing in the direction
+he indicated, Betty saw a woman advancing along the path toward them.
+The look of alarm slowly died out of his eyes.
+
+"I think it's the overseer's niece," she told Hannibal, and they kept on
+toward the boat.
+
+The girl came rapidly up the path, which closely followed the irregular
+line of the shore in its windings. Once she was seen to stop and glance
+back over her shoulder, her attitude intent and listening, then she
+hurried forward again. Just by the boat the three met.
+
+"Good evening!" said Betty pleasantly.
+
+The girl made no reply to this; she merely regarded Betty with a fixed
+stare. At length she broke silence abruptly.
+
+"I got something I want to say to you--you know who I am, I reckon?" She
+was a girl of about Betty's own age, with a certain dark, sullen beauty
+and that physical attraction which Tom, in spite of his vexed mood, had
+taken note of earlier in the day.
+
+"You are Bess Hicks," said Betty.
+
+"Make the boy go back toward the house a spell--I got something I want
+to say to you." Betty hesitated. She was offended by the girl's manner,
+which was as rude as her speech. "I ain't going to hurt you--you needn't
+be afraid of me, I got something important to say--send him off, I
+tell you; there ain't no time to lose!" The girl stamped her foot
+impatiently.
+
+Betty made a sign to Hannibal and he passed slowly back along the path.
+He went unwillingly, and he kept his head turned that he might see what
+was done, even if he were not to hear what was said.
+
+"That will do, Hannibal--wait there--don't go any farther!" Betty called
+after him when he had reached a point sufficiently distant to be out of
+hearing of a conversation carried on in an ordinary tone. "Now, what is
+it? Speak quickly if you have anything to tell me!"
+
+"I got a heap to say," answered the girl with a scowl. Her manner was
+still fierce and repellent, and she gave Betty a certain jealous
+regard out of her black eyes which the latter was at a loss to explain.
+"Where's Mr. Tom?" she demanded.
+
+"Tom? Why, about the place, I suppose--in his office, perhaps." So it
+had to do with Tom.... Betty felt sudden disgust with the situation.
+
+"No, he ain't about the place, either! He done struck out for Memphis
+two hours after sun-up, and what's more, he ain't coming back here
+to-night--" There was a moment of silence. The girl looked about
+apprehensively. She continued, fixing her black eyes on Betty: "You're
+here alone at Belle Plain--you know what happened when Mr. Tom started
+for Memphis last time? I reckon you-all ain't forgot that!"
+
+Betty felt a pallor steal over her face. She rested a hand that shook on
+the trunk of a tree to steady herself. The girl laughed shortly.
+
+"Don't be so scared; I reckon Belle Plain's as good as his if anything
+happened to you?"
+
+By a great effort Betty gained a measure of control over herself. She
+took a step nearer and looked the girl steadily in the face.
+
+"Perhaps you will stop this sort of talk, and tell me what is going to
+happen to me--if you know?" she said quietly.
+
+"Why do you reckon Mr. Norton was shot? I can tell you why--it was all
+along of you--that was why!" The girl's furtive glance, which searched
+and watched the gathering shadows, came back as it always did to Betty's
+pale face. "You ain't no safer than he was, I tell you!" and she sucked
+in her breath sharply between her full red lips.
+
+"What do you mean?" faltered Betty.
+
+"Do you reckon you're safe here in the big house alone? Why do you
+reckon Mr. Tom cleared out for Memphis? It was because he couldn't be
+around and have anything happen to you--that was why!" and the girl sank
+her voice to a whisper. "You quit Belle Plain now--to-night--just as
+soon as you can!"
+
+"This is absurd--you are trying to frighten me!"
+
+"Did they stop with trying to frighten Charley Norton?" demanded Bess
+with harsh insistence.
+
+Whatever the promptings that inspired this warning, they plainly had
+nothing to do with either liking or sympathy. Her dominating emotion
+seemed to be a sullen sort of resentment which lit up her glance with a
+dull fire; yet her feelings were so clearly and so keenly personal that
+Betty understood the motive that had brought her there. The explanation,
+she found, left her wondering just where and how her own fate was linked
+with that of this poor white.
+
+"You have been waiting some time to see me?" she asked.
+
+"Ever since along about noon."
+
+"You were afraid to come to the house?"
+
+"I didn't want to be seen there."
+
+"And yet you knew I was alone."
+
+"Alone--but how do you know who's watching the place?"
+
+"Do you think there was reason to be afraid of that?" asked Betty.
+
+Again the girl stamped her foot with angry impatience.
+
+"You're just wastin' time--just foolin' it away--and you ain't got none
+to spare!"
+
+"You must tell me what I have to fear--I must know more or I shall stay
+just where I am!"
+
+"Well, then, stay!" The girl turned away, and then as quickly turned
+back and faced Betty once more. "I reckon he'd kill me if he knew--I
+reckon I've earned that already--"
+
+"Of whom are you speaking?"
+
+"He'll have you away from here to-night!"
+
+"He?... who?... and what if I refuse to go?"
+
+"Did they ask Charley Norton whether he wanted to live or die?" came the
+sinister question.
+
+A shiver passed through Betty. She was seeing it all again--Charley as
+he groped among the graves with the hand of death heavy upon him.
+
+A moment later she was alone. The girl had disappeared. There was only
+the shifting shadows as the wind tossed the branches of the trees, and
+the bands of golden light that slanted along the empty path. The fear of
+the unknown leaped up afresh in Betty's soul, in an instant her flying
+feet had borne her to the boy's side.
+
+"Come--come quick, Hannibal!" she gasped out, and seized his hand.
+
+"What is it, Miss Betty? What's the matter?" asked Hannibal as they fled
+panting up the terraces.
+
+"I don't know--only we must get away from here just as soon as we can!"
+Then, seeing the look of alarm on the child's face, she added more
+quietly, "Don't be frightened, dear, only we must go away from Belle
+Plain at once." But where they were to go, she had not considered.
+
+Reaching the house, they stole up to Betty's room. Her well-filled purse
+was the important thing; that, together with some necessary clothing,
+went into a small hand-bag.
+
+"You must carry this, Hannibal; if any one sees us leave the house
+they'll think it something you are taking away," she explained. Hannibal
+nodded understandingly.
+
+"Don't you trust your niggers, Miss Betty?" he whispered as they went
+from the room.
+
+"I only trust you, dear!"
+
+"What makes you go? Was it something that woman told you? Are they
+coming after us, Miss Betty? Is it Captain Murrell?"
+
+"Captain Murrell?" There was less of mystery now, but more of terror,
+and her hand stole up to her heart, and, white and slim, rested against
+the black fabric of her dress.
+
+"Don't you be scared, Miss Betty!" said Hannibal.
+
+They went silently from the house and again crossed the lawn to the
+terrace. Under the leafy arch which canopied them there was already the
+deep purple of twilight.
+
+"Do you reckon it were Captain Murrell shot Mr. Norton, Miss Betty?"
+asked Hannibal in a shuddering whisper.
+
+"Hush--Oh, hush, Hannibal! It is too awful to even speak of--" and,
+sobbing and half hysterical, she covered her face with her hands.
+
+"But where are we going, Miss Betty?" asked the boy.
+
+"I don't know, dear!" she had an agonizing sense of the night's approach
+and of her own utter helplessness.
+
+"I'll tell you what, Miss Betty, let's go to the judge and Mr. Mahaffy!"
+said Hannibal.
+
+"Judge Price?" She had not thought of him as a possible protector.
+
+"Why, Miss Betty, ain't I told you he ain't afraid of nothing? We could
+walk to Raleigh easy if you don't want your niggers to hook up a team
+for you."
+
+Betty suddenly remembered the carriage which had taken the judge into
+town; she was sure it had not yet returned.
+
+"We will go to the judge, Hannibal! George, who drove him into Raleigh,
+has not come back; if we hurry we may meet him on the road."
+
+Screened by the thick shadows, they passed up the path that edged the
+bayou; at the head of the inlet they entered a clearing, and crossing
+this they came to the corn-field which lay between the house and the
+highroad. Following one of the shock rows they hurried to the mouth of
+the lane.
+
+"Hannibal, I don't want to tell the judge why I am leaving Belle
+Plain--about the woman, I mean," said Betty.
+
+"You reckon they'd kill her, don't you, Miss Betty, if they knew what
+she'd done?" speculated the boy. It occurred to him that an adequate
+explanation of their flight would require preparation, since the judge
+was at all times singularly alive to the slightest discrepancy of
+statement. They had issued from the cornfield now and were going along
+the road toward Raleigh. Suddenly Betty paused.
+
+"Hark!" she whispered.
+
+"It were nothing, Miss Betty," said Hannibal reassuringly, and they
+hurried forward again. In the utter stillness through which they moved
+Betty heard the beating of her own heart, and the soft, and all but
+inaudible patter of the boy's bare feet on the warm dust of the road.
+Vague forms that resolved themselves into trees and bushes seemed to
+creep toward them out of the night's black uncertainty. Once more Betty
+paused.
+
+"It were nothing, Miss Betty," said Hannibal as before, and he
+returned to his consideration of the judge. He sensed something of that
+intellectual nimbleness which his patron's physical make-up in nowise
+suggested, since his face was a mask that usually left one in doubt as
+to just how much of what he heard succeeded in making its impression on
+him; but the boy knew that Slocum Price's blind side was a shelterless
+exposure.
+
+"You don't think the carriage could have passed us while we were
+crossing the corn-field?" said Betty.
+
+"No, I reckon we couldn't a-missed hearing it," answered Hannibal. He
+had scarcely spoken when they caught the rattle of wheels and the beat
+of hoofs. These sounds swept nearer and nearer, and then the darkness
+disgorged the Belle Plain team and carriage.
+
+"George!" cried Betty, a world of relief in her tones.
+
+"Whoa, you!" and George reined in his horses with a jerk. "Who's dar?"
+he asked, bending forward on the box as he sought to pierce the darkness
+with his glance.
+
+"George--"
+
+"Oh, it you, Missy?"
+
+"Yes, I wish you to drive me into Raleigh," said Betty, and she and
+Hannibal entered the carriage.
+
+"All right, Missy. Yo'-all ready fo' me to go along out o' here?"
+
+"Yes--drive fast, George!" urged Betty.
+
+"It's right dark fo' fas' drivin' Missy, with the road jes' aimin' fo'
+to bus' yo' springs with chuckholes!" He had turned his horses' heads in
+the direction of Raleigh while he was speaking. "It's scandalous black
+in these heah woods, Missy I 'clar' I never seen it no blacker!"
+
+The carriage swung forward for perhaps a hundred yards, then suddenly
+the horses came to a dead stop.
+
+"Go along on, dar!" cried George, and struck them with his whip, but the
+horses only reared and plunged.
+
+"Hold on, nigger!" said a rough voice out of the darkness.
+
+"What yo' doin'?" the coachman gasped. "Don' yo' know dis de Belle Plain
+carriage? Take yo' han's offen to dem hosses' bits!"
+
+Two men stepped to the side of the carriage.
+
+"Show your light, Bunker," said the same rough voice that had spoken
+before. Instantly a hooded lantern was uncovered, and Hannibal uttered
+a cry of terror. He was looking into the face of Slosson, the
+tavern-keeper.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. PRISONERS
+
+
+In the face of Betty's indignant protest Slosson and the man named
+Bunker climbed into the carriage.
+
+"Don't you be scared, ma'am," said the tavernkeeper, who smelt strongly
+of whisky. "I wouldn't lift my hand ag'in no good looking female except
+in kindness."
+
+"How dare you stop my carriage?" cried Betty, with a very genuine anger
+which for the moment dominated all her other emotions. She struggled to
+her feet, but Slosson put out a heavy hand and thrust her back.
+
+"There now," he urged soothingly. "Why make a fuss? We ain't going to
+harm you; we wouldn't for no sum of money. Drive on, Jim--drive like
+hell!" This last was addressed to the man who had taken George's place
+on the box, where a fourth member of Slosson's band had forced the
+coachman down into the narrow space between the seat and dashboard, and
+was holding a pistol to his head while he sternly enjoined silence.
+
+With a word to the horses Jim swung about and the carriage rolled off
+through the night at a breakneck' pace. Betty's shaking hands drew
+Hannibal closer to her side as she felt the surge of her terrors rise
+within her. Who were these men--where could they be taking her--and for
+what purpose? The events of the past weeks linked themselves in tragic
+sequence in her mind.
+
+What was it she had to fear? Was it Tom who had inspired Norton's
+murder? Was it Tom for whom these men were acting? Tom who would profit
+greatly by her disappearance or death.
+
+They swept past the entrance at Belle Plain, past a break in the wall of
+the forest where the pale light of stars showed Betty the corn-field she
+and Hannibal had but lately crossed, and then on into pitchy darkness
+again. She clung to the desperate hope that they might meet some one on
+the road, when she could cry out and give the alarm. She held herself
+in readiness for this, but there was only the steady pounding of the big
+bays as Jim with voice and whip urged them forward. At last he abruptly
+checked them, and Bunker and Slosson sprang from their seats.
+
+"Get down, ma'am!" said the latter.
+
+"Where are you taking me?" asked Betty, in a voice that shook in spite
+of her efforts to control it.
+
+"You must hurry, ma'am," urged Slosson impatiently.
+
+"I won't move until I know where you intend taking me!" said Betty, "If
+I am to die--"
+
+Mr. Slosson laughed loudly and indulgently.
+
+"You ain't. If you don't want to walk, I'm man enough fo' to tote you.
+We ain't far to go, and I've tackled jobs I'd a heap less heart fo' in
+my time," he concluded gallantly. From the opposite side of the carriage
+Bunker swore nervously. He desired to know if they were to stand there
+talking all night. "Shut your filthy mouth, Bunker, and see you keep
+tight hold of that young rip-staver," said Slosson. "He's a perfect
+eel--I've had dealings with him afore!"
+
+"You tried to kill my Uncle Bob--at the tavern, you and Captain Murrell.
+I heard you, and I seen you drag him to the river!" cried Hannibal.
+
+Slosson gave a start of astonishment at this.
+
+"Why, ain't he hateful?" he exclaimed aghast. "See here, young feller,
+that's no kind of a way fo' you to talk to a man who has riz his ten
+children!"
+
+Again Bunker swore, while Jim told Slosson to make haste. This popular
+clamor served to recall the tavernkeeper to a sense of duty.
+
+"Ma'am, like I should tote you, or will you walk?" he inquired, and
+reaching out his hand took hold of Betty.
+
+"I'll walk," said the girl quickly, shrinking from the contact.
+
+"Keep close at my heels. Bunker, you tuck along after her with the boy."
+
+"What about this nigger?" asked the fourth man.
+
+"Fetch him along with us," said Slosson. They turned from the road
+while he was speaking and entered a narrow path that led off through the
+woods, apparently in the direction of the river. A moment later Betty
+heard the carriage drive away. They went onward in silence for a little
+time, then Slosson spoke over his shoulder.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I've riz ten children but none of 'em was like him--I
+trained 'em up to the minute!" Mr. Slosson seemed to have passed
+completely under the spell of his domestic recollections, for he
+continued with just a touch of reminiscent sadness in his tone. "There
+was all told four Mrs. Slossons: two of 'em was South Carolinians, one
+was from Georgia, and the last was a widow lady out of east Tennessee.
+She'd buried three husbands and I figured we could start perfectly
+even."
+
+The intrinsic fairness of this start made its strong appeal. Mr. Slosson
+dwelt upon it with satisfaction. "She had three to her credit, I had
+three to mine; neither could crow none over the other."
+
+As they stumbled forward through the thick obscurity he continued his
+personal revelations, the present enterprise having roused whatever
+there was of sentiment slumbering in his soul. At last they came out on
+a wide bayou; a white mist hung above it, and on the low shore leaf and
+branch were dripping with the night dews. Keeping close to the water's
+edge Slosson led the way to a point where a skiff was drawn up on the
+bank.
+
+"Step in, ma'am," he said, when he had launched it.
+
+"I will go no farther!" said Betty in desperation. She felt an
+overmastering fear, the full horror of the unknown lay hold of her, and
+she gave a piercing cry for help. Slosson swung about on his heel and
+seized her. For a moment she struggled to escape, but the man's big
+hands pinioned her.
+
+"No more of that!" he warned, then he recovered himself and laughed.
+"You could yell till you was black in the face, ma'am, and there'd be no
+one to hear you."
+
+"Where are you taking me?" and Betty's voice faltered between the sudden
+sobs that choked her.
+
+"Just across to George Hicks's."
+
+"For what purpose?"
+
+"You'll know in plenty of time." And Slosson leered at her through the
+darkness.
+
+"Hannibal is to go with me?" asked Betty tremulously.
+
+"Sure!" agreed Slosson affably. "Your nigger, too--quite a party."
+
+Betty stepped into the skiff. She felt her hopes quicken--she was
+thinking of Bess; whatever the girl's motives, she had wished her to
+escape. She would wish it now more than ever since the very thing she
+had striven to prevent had happened. Slosson seated himself and took up
+the oars, Bunker followed with Hannibal and they pushed off. No word
+was spoken until they disembarked on the opposite shore, when Slosson
+addressed Bunker. "I reckon I can manage that young rip-staver, you go
+back after Sherrod and the nigger," he said.
+
+He conducted his captives up the bank and they entered a clearing.
+Looking across this Betty saw where a cabin window framed a single
+square of light. They advanced toward this and presently the dark
+outline of the cabin itself became distinguishable. A moment later
+Slosson paused, a door yielded to his hand, and Betty and the boy were
+thrust into the room where Murrell had held his conference with Fentress
+and Ware. The two women were now its only occupants and the mother,
+gross and shapeless, turned an expressionless face on the intruders; but
+the daughter shrank into the shadow, her burning glance fixed on Betty.
+
+"Here's yo' guests, old lady!" said Mr. Slosson. Mrs. Hicks rose from
+the three-legged stool on which she was sitting.
+
+"Hand me the candle, Bess," she ordered.
+
+At one side of the room was a steep flight of stairs which gave access
+to the loft overhead. Mrs. Hicks, by a gesture, signified that Betty and
+Hannibal were to ascend these stairs; they did so and found themselves
+on a narrow landing inclosed by a partition of rough planks, this
+partition was pierced by a low door. Mrs. Hicks, who had followed close
+at their heels, handed the candle to Betty.
+
+"In yonder!" she said briefly, nodding toward the door.
+
+"Wait!" cried Betty in a whisper.
+
+"No," said the woman with an almost masculine surliness of tone. "I got
+nothing to say." She pushed them into the attic, and, closing the door,
+fastened it with a stout wooden bar.
+
+Beyond that door, which seemed to have closed on every hope, Betty held
+the tallow dip aloft, and by its uncertain and flickering light surveyed
+her prison. The briefest glance sufficed. The room contained two
+shakedown beds and a stool, there was a window in the gable, but a piece
+of heavy plank was spiked before it.
+
+"Miss Betty, don't you be scared," whispered Hannibal. "When the judge
+hears we're gone, him and Mr. Mahaffy will try to find us. They'll go
+right off to Belle Plain--the judge is always wanting to do that, only
+Mr. Mahaffy never lets him but now he won't be able to stop him."
+
+"Oh, Hannibal, Hannibal, what can he do there--what can any one do
+there?" And a dead pallor overspread the girl's face. To speak of the
+blind groping of her friends but served to fix the horror of their
+situation in her mind.
+
+"I don't know, Miss Betty, but the judge is always thinking of things to
+do; seems like they was mostly things no one else would ever think of."
+
+Betty had placed the candle on the stool and seated herself on one of
+the beds. There was the murmur of voices in the room below; she wondered
+if her fate was under consideration and what that fate was to be.
+Hannibal, who had been examining the window, returned to her side.
+
+"Miss Betty, if we could just get out of this loft we could steal their
+skiff and row down to the river; I reckon they got just the one boat;
+the only way they could get to us would be to swim out, and if they done
+that we could pound 'em over the head with the oars the least little
+thing sinks you when you're in the water." But this murderous fancy of
+his failed to interest Betty.
+
+Presently they heard Sherrod and Bunker come up from the shore with
+George. Slosson joined them and there was a brief discussion, then an
+interval of silence, and the sound of voices again as the three white
+men moved back across the field in the direction of the bayou. There
+succeeded a period of utter stillness, both in the cabin and in the
+clearing, a somber hush that plunged Betty yet deeper in despair. Wild
+thoughts assailed her, thoughts against which she struggled with all the
+strength of her will.
+
+In that hour of stress Hannibal was sustained by his faith in the judge.
+He saw his patron's powerful and picturesque intelligence applied to
+solving the mystery of their disappearance from Belle Plain; it was
+inconceivable that this could prove otherwise than disastrous to Mr.
+Slosson and he endeavored to share the confidence he was feeling with
+Betty, but there was something so forced and unnatural in the girl's
+voice and manner when she discussed his conjectures that he quickly fell
+into an awed silence. At last, and it must have been some time after
+midnight, troubled slumbers claimed him. No moment of forgetfulness came
+to Betty. She was waiting for what--she did not know! The candle burnt
+lower and lower and finally went out and she was left in darkness, but
+again she was conscious of sounds from the room below. At first it
+was only a word or a sentence, then the guarded speech became a steady
+monotone that ran deep into the night; eventually this ceased and Betty
+fancied she heard sobs.
+
+At length points of light began to show through chinks in the logs.
+Hannibal roused and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his
+hands.
+
+"Wasn't you able to sleep none?" he inquired. Betty shook her head. He
+looked at her with an expression of troubled concern. "How soon do you
+reckon the judge will know?" he asked.
+
+"Very soon now, dear." Hannibal was greatly consoled by this opinion.
+
+"Miss Betty, he will love to find us--"
+
+"Hark! What was that?" for Betty had caught the distant splash of
+oars. Hannibal found a chink in the logs through which by dint of much
+squinting he secured a partial view of the bayou. "They're fetching up
+a keel boat to the shore, Miss Betty--it's a whooper!" he announced.
+Betty's heart sank, she never doubted the purpose for which that boat
+was brought into the bayou, or that it nearly concerned herself.
+
+Half an hour later Mrs. Hicks appeared with their breakfast. It was
+in vain that Betty attempted to engage her in conversation, either she
+cherished some personal feeling of dislike for her prisoner, or else the
+situation in which she herself was placed had little to recommend it,
+even to her dull mind, and her dissatisfaction was expressed in her
+attitude toward the girl.
+
+Betty passed the long hours of morning in dreary speculation concerning
+what was happening at Belle Plain. In the end she realized that the day
+could go by and her absence occasion no alarm; Steve might reasonably
+suppose George had driven her into Raleigh or to the Bowens' and that
+she had kept the carriage. Finally all her hope centered on Judge Price.
+He would expect Hannibal during the morning, perhaps when the boy did
+not arrive he would be tempted to go out to Belle Plain to discover
+the reason of his nonappearance. She wondered what theories would offer
+themselves to his ingenious mind, for she sensed something of that
+indomitable energy which in the face of rebuffs and laughter carried him
+into the thick of every sensation.
+
+At noon, Mrs. Hicks, as sullen as in the morning, brought them their
+dinner. She had scarcely quitted the loft when a shrill whistle pierced
+the silence that hung above the clearing. It was twice repeated, and the
+two women were heard to go from the cabin. Perhaps half an hour elapsed,
+then a step became audible on the packed earth of the dooryard; some
+one entered the room below and began to ascend the narrow stairs, and
+Betty's fingers closed convulsively about Hannibal's. This was neither
+Mrs. Hicks nor her daughter, nor Slosson with his clumsy shuffle.
+There was a brief pause when the landing was reached, but it was only
+momentary; a hand lifted the bar, the door was thrown open, and its
+space framed the figure of a man. It was John Murrell.
+
+Standing there he regarded Betty in silence, but a deep-seated fire
+glowed in his sunken eyes. The sense of possession was raging through
+him, his temples throbbed, a fever stirred his blood. Love, such as it
+was, he undoubtedly felt for her and even his giant project with all its
+monstrous ramifications was lost sight of for the moment. She was the
+inspiration for it all, the goal and reward toward which he struggled.
+
+"Betty!" the single word fell softly from his lips. He stepped into the
+room, closing the door as he did so.
+
+The girl's eyes were dilating with a mute horror, for by some swift
+intuitive process of the mind, which asked nothing of the logic of
+events, but dealt only with conclusions, Murrell stood revealed as
+Norton's murderer. Perhaps he read her thoughts, but he had lived in his
+degenerate ambitions until the common judgments or the understanding
+of them no longer existed for him. That Betty had loved Norton seemed
+inconsequential even; it was a memory to be swept away by the force of
+his greater passion. So he watched her smilingly, but back of the smile
+was the menace of unleashed impulse.
+
+"Can't you find some word of welcome for me, Betty?" he asked at length,
+still softly, still with something of entreaty in his tone.
+
+"Then it was you--not Tom--who had me brought here!" She could have
+thanked God had it been Tom, whose hate was not to be feared as she
+feared this man's love.
+
+"Tom--no!" and Murrell laughed. "You didn't think I'd give you up? I am
+standing with a halter, about my neck, and all for your sake--who'd risk
+as much for love of you?" he seemed to expand with savage pride that
+this was so, and took a step toward her.
+
+"Don't come near me!" cried Betty. Her eyes blazed, and she looked at
+him with' loathing.
+
+"You'll learn to be kinder," he exulted. "You wouldn't see me at Belle
+Plain; what was left for me but to have you brought here?" While Murrell
+was speaking, the signal that had told of his own presence on the
+opposite shore of the bayou was heard again. This served to arrest his
+attention. A look of uncertainty passed over his face, then he made an
+impatient gesture as if he dismissed some thought that had forced itself
+upon him, and turned to Betty.
+
+"You don't ask what my purpose is where you are concerned; have you
+no curiosity on that score?" She endeavored to meet his glance with a
+glance as resolute, then her eyes sought the boy's upturned face. "I
+am going to send you down river, Betty. Later I shall join you in New
+Orleans, and when I leave the country you shall go with me--"
+
+"Never!" gasped Betty.
+
+"As my wife, or however you choose to call it. I'll teach you what a
+man's love is like," he boasted, and extended his hand. Betty shrank
+from him, and his hand fell at his side. He looked at her steadily out
+of his deep-sunk eyes in which blazed the fires of his passion, and as
+he looked, her face paled and flushed by turns. "You may learn to be
+kind to me, Betty," he said. "You may find it will be worth your while."
+Betty made no answer, she only gathered Hannibal closer to her side. "Why
+not accept what I have to offer, Betty?" again he went nearer her,
+and again she shrank from him, but the madness of his mood was in the
+ascendant. He seized her and drew her to him. She struggled to free
+herself, but his fingers tightened about hers.
+
+"Let me go!" she panted. He laughed his cool laugh of triumph.
+
+"Let you go--ask me anything but that, Betty! Have you no reward
+for patience such as mine? A whole summer has passed since I saw you
+first--"
+
+There was the noisy shuffling of feet on the stairs, and releasing
+Betty, Murrell swung about on his heel and faced the door. It was pushed
+open an inch at a time by a not too confident hand and Mr. Slosson thus
+guardedly presented himself to the eye of his chief, whom he beckoned
+from the room.
+
+"Well?" said Murrell, when they stood together on the landing.
+
+"Just come across to the keel boat!" and Slosson led the way down the
+stairs and from the house.
+
+"Damn you, Joe; you might have waited!" observed the outlaw. Slosson
+gave him a hardened grin. They crossed the clearing and boarded the keel
+boat which rested against the bank. As they did so, the cabin in the
+stern gave up a shattered presence in the shape of Tom Ware. Murrell
+started violently. "I thought you were hanging out in Memphis, Tom?"
+he said, and his brow darkened as, sinister and forbidding, he stepped
+closer to the planter. Ware did not answer at once, but looked at
+Murrell out of heavy bloodshot eyes, his face pinched and ghastly. At
+last he said, speaking with visible effort,
+
+"I stayed in Memphis until five o'clock this morning."
+
+"Damn your early hours!" roared Murrell. "What are you doing here?
+I suppose you've been showing that dead face of yours about the
+neighborhood--why didn't you stay at Belle Plain since you couldn't keep
+away?"
+
+"I haven't been near Belle Plain, I came here instead. How am I going
+to meet people and answer questions?" His teeth were chattering. "Is it
+known she's missing?" he added.
+
+"Hicks raised the alarm the first thing this morning, according to the
+instructions I'd given him."
+
+"Yes?" gasped Ware. He was dripping from every pore and the sickly color
+came and went on his unshaven cheeks. Murrell dropped a heavy hand on
+his shoulder.
+
+"You haven't been at Belle Plain, you say, but has any one seen you on
+the road this morning?"
+
+"No one, John," cried Ware, panting between each word. There was a
+moment's pause and Ware spoke again. "What are they doing at Belle
+Plain?" he demanded in a whisper. Murrell's lips curled.
+
+"I understand there is talk of suicide," he said.
+
+"Good!" cried Ware.
+
+"They are dragging the bayou down below the house. It looks as though
+you were going to reap the rewards of the excellent management you have
+given her estate. They have been trying to find you in Memphis, so the
+sooner you show yourself the better," he concluded significantly.
+
+"You are sure you have her safe, John, no chance of discovery? For God's
+sake, get her away from here as soon as you can, it's an awful risk you
+run!"
+
+"She'll be sent down river to-night," said Murrell.
+
+"Captain," began Slosson who up to this had taken no part in the
+conversation. "When are you going to cross to t'other side of the
+bayou?"
+
+"Soon," replied Murrell. Slosson laughed.
+
+"I didn't know but you'd clean forgot the Clan's business. I want to ask
+another question--but first I want to say that no one thinks higher or
+more frequent of the ladies than just me, I'm genuinely fond of 'em and
+I've never lifted my hand ag'in' 'em except in kindness." Mr. Slosson
+looked at Ware with an exceedingly virtuous expression of countenance.
+He continued. "Yo' orders are that we're to slip out of this a little
+afore midnight, but suppose there's a hitch--here's the lady knowing
+what she knows and here's the boy knowing what he knows."
+
+"There can be no hitch," rasped out Murrell arrogantly.
+
+"I never knew a speculation that couldn't go wrong; and by rights we
+should have got away last night."
+
+"Well, whose fault is it you didn't?" demanded Murrell.
+
+"In a manner it were mine, but the ark got on a sandbank as we were
+fetching it in and it took us the whole damn night to get clear."
+
+"Well?" prompted Murrell, with a sullen frown.
+
+"Suppose they get shut of that notion of theirs that the lady's done
+drowned herself, suppose they take to watching the river? Or suppose the
+whole damn bottom drops out of this deal? What then? Why, I'll tell you
+what then--the lady, good looking as she is, knows enough to make west
+Tennessee mighty onhealthy for some of us. I say suppose it's a flash in
+the pan and you have to crowd the distance in between you and this
+part of the world, you can't tell me you'll have any use for her then."
+Slosson paused impressively. "And here's Mr. Ware feeling bad, feeling
+like hell," he resumed. "Him and me don't want to be left in no trap
+with you gone God only knows where."
+
+"I'll send a man to take charge of the keel boat. I can't risk any more
+of your bungling, Joe."
+
+"That's all right, but you don't answer my question," persisted Slosson,
+with admirable tenacity of purpose.
+
+"What is your question, Joe?"
+
+"A lot can happen between this and midnight--"
+
+"If things go wrong with us there'll be a blaze at the head of the
+bayou; does that satisfy you?"
+
+"And what then?"
+
+Murrell hesitated.
+
+"What about the girl?" insisted Slosson, dragging him back to the point
+at issue between them. "As a man I wouldn't lift my hand ag'in' no good
+looking woman except like I said--in kindness, but she can't be turned
+loose, she knows too much. What's the word, Captain--you say it!" he
+urged. He made a gesture of appeal to Ware.
+
+"Look for the light; better still, look for the man I'll send." And with
+this Murrell would have turned away, but Slosson detained him.
+
+"Who'll he be?"
+
+"Some fellow who knows the river."
+
+"And if it's the light?" asked the tavern-keeper in a hoarse undertone.
+Again he looked toward Ware, who, dry-lipped and ashen, was regarding
+him steadfastly. Glance met glance, for a brief instant they looked deep
+into each other's eyes and then the hand Slosson had rested on Murrell's
+shoulder dropped at his side.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE JUDGE MEETS THE SITUATION
+
+
+The judge's and Mr. Mahaffy's celebration of the former's rehabilitated
+credit had occupied the shank of the evening, the small hours of the
+night, and that part of the succeeding day which the southwest described
+as soon in the morning; and as the stone jug, in which were garnered the
+spoils of the highly confidential but entirely misleading conversation
+which the judge had held with Mr. Pegloe after his return from Belle
+Plain, lost in weight, it might have been observed that he and Mr.
+Mahaffy seemed to gain in that nice sense of equity which should form
+the basis of all human relations. The judge watched Mr. Mahaffy, and Mr.
+Mahaffy watched the judge, each trustfully placing the regulation of his
+private conduct in the hands of his friend, as the one most likely to be
+affected by the rectitude of his acts.
+
+Probably so extensive a consumption of Mr. Pegloe's corn whisky had
+never been accomplished with greater highmindedness. They honorably
+split the last glass, the judge scorning to set up any technical claim
+to it as his exclusive property; then he stared at Mahaffy, while
+Mahaffy, dark-visaged and forbidding, stared back at him.
+
+The judge sighed deeply. He took up the jug and inverted it. A stray
+drop or so fell languidly into his glass.
+
+"Try squeezing it, Price," said Mahaffy.
+
+The judge shook the jug, it gave forth an empty sound, and he sighed
+again; he attempted to peer into it, closing one watery eye as he tilted
+it toward the light.
+
+"I wonder no Yankee has ever thought to invent a jug with a glass
+bottom," he observed.
+
+"What for?" asked Mahaffy.
+
+"You astonish me, Solomon," exclaimed the judge. "Coming as you do from
+that section which invented the wooden nutmeg, and an eight-day clock
+that has been known to run as much as four or five hours at a stretch. I
+am aware the Yankees are an ingenious people; I wonder none of 'em ever
+thought of a jug with a glass bottom, so that when a body holds it up
+to the light he can see at a glance whether it is empty or not. Do you
+reckon Pegloe has sufficient confidence to fill the jug again for us?"
+
+But Mahaffy's expression indicated no great confidence in Mr. Pegloe's
+confidence.
+
+"Credit," began the judge, "is proverbially shy; still it may sometimes
+be increased, like the muscles of the body and the mental faculties,
+by judicious use. I've always regarded Pegloe as a cheap mind. I hope
+I have done him an injustice." He put on his hat, and tucking the jug
+under his arm, went from the house.
+
+Ten or fifteen minutes elapsed. Mahaffy considered this a good sign,
+it didn't take long to say no, he reflected. Another ten or fifteen
+elapsed. Mahaffy lost heart. Then there came a hasty step beyond the
+door, it was thrown violently open, and the judge precipitated himself
+into the room. A glance showed Mahaffy that he was laboring under
+intense excitement.
+
+"Solomon, I bring shocking news. God knows what the next few hours may
+reveal!" cried the judge, mopping his brow. "Miss Malroy has disappeared
+from Belle Plain, and Hannibal has gone with her!"
+
+"Where have they gone?" asked Mahaffy, and his long jaw dropped.
+
+"Would to God I had an answer ready for that question, Solomon!"
+answered the judge, with a melancholy shake of the head. He gazed down
+on his friend with an air of large tolerance. "I am going to Belle
+Plain, but you are too drunk. Sleep it off, Solomon, and join me when
+your brain is clear and your legs steady."
+
+Mahaffy jerked out an oath, and lifting himself off his chair, stood
+erect. He snatched up his hat.
+
+"Stuff your pistols into your pockets, and come on, Price!" he said, and
+stalked toward the door.
+
+He flitted up the street, and the judge puffed and panted in his wake.
+They gained the edge of the village without speech.
+
+"There is mystery and rascality here!" said the judge.
+
+"What do you know, Price, and where did you hear this?" Mahaffy shot the
+question back over his shoulder.
+
+"At Pegloe's, the Belle Plain overseer had just fetched the news into
+town."
+
+Again they were silent, all their energies being absorbed by the
+physical exertion they were making. The road danced before their
+burning eyes, it seemed to be uncoiling itself serpentwise with hideous
+undulations. Mr. Mahaffy was conscious that the judge, of whom he caught
+a blurred vision now at his right side, now at his left, was laboring
+painfully in the heat and dust, the breath whistling from between his
+parched lips.
+
+"You're just ripe for apoplexy, Price!" he snarled, moderating his pace.
+
+"Go on," said the judge, with stolid resolution.
+
+Two miles out of the village they came to a roadside spring, here they
+paused for an instant. Mahaffy scooped up handfuls of the clear water
+and sucked it down greedily. The judge dropped on his stomach and buried
+his face in the tiny pool, gulping up great thirsty swallows. After a
+long breathless instant he stood erect, with drops of moisture clinging
+to his nose and eyebrows. Mahaffy was a dozen paces down the road,
+hurrying forward again with relentless vigor. The judge shuffled after
+him. The tracks they left in the dust crossed and re-crossed the road,
+but presently the slanting lines of their advance straightened, the
+judge gained and held a fixed place at Mahaffy's right, a step or so in
+the rear. His oppulent fancy began to deal with the situation.
+
+"If anything happens to the child, the man responsible for it would
+better never been born--I'll pursue him with undiminished energy from
+this moment forth!" he panted.
+
+"What could happen to him, Price?" asked Mahaffy.
+
+"God knows, poor little lad!"
+
+"Will you shut up!" cried Mahaffy savagely.
+
+"Solomon!"
+
+"Why do you go building on that idea? Why should any one harm him--what
+earthly purpose--"
+
+"I tell you, Solomon, we are the pivotal point in a vast circle of
+crime. This is a blow at me--this is revenge, sir, neither more nor
+less! They have struck at me through the boy, it is as plain as day."
+
+"What did the overseer say?"
+
+"Just that they found Miss Malroy gone from Belle Plain this morning,
+and the boy with her."
+
+"This is like you, Price! How do you know they haven't spent the night
+at some neighbor's?"
+
+"The nearest neighbor is five or six miles distant. Miss Malroy and
+Hannibal were seen along about dusk in the grounds at Belle Plain, do
+you mean to tell me you consider it likely that they set out on foot at
+that hour, and without a word to any one, to make a visit?" inquired the
+judge; but Mahaffy did not contend for this point.
+
+"What are you going to do first, Price?"
+
+"Have a look over the grounds, and talk with the slaves."
+
+"Where's the brother--wasn't he at Belle Plain last night?"
+
+"It seems he went to Memphis yesterday."
+
+They plodded forward in silence; now and again they were passed by some
+man on horseback whose destination was the same as their own, and then
+at last they caught sight of Belle Plain in its grove of trees.
+
+All work on the plantation had stopped, and the hundreds of slaves--men,
+women and children--were gathered about the house. Among these moved the
+members of the dominant race. The judge would have attached himself to
+the first group, but he heard a whispered question, and the answer,
+
+"Miss Malroy's lawyer."
+
+Clearly it was not for him to mix with these outsiders, these curiosity
+seekers. He crossed the lawn to the house, and mounted the steps. In the
+doorway was big Steve, while groups of men stood about in the hall, the
+hum of busy purposeless talk pervading the place. The judge frowned.
+This was all wrong.
+
+"Has Mr. Ware returned from Memphis?" he asked of Steve.
+
+"No, Sah; not yet."
+
+"Then show me into the library," said the judge with bland authority,
+surrendering his hat to the butler. "Come along, Mahaffy!" he added.
+They entered the library, and the judge motioned Steve to close the
+door. "Now, boy, you'll kindly ask those people to withdraw--you may say
+it is Judge Price's orders. Allow no one to enter the house unless they
+have business with me, or as I send for them--you understand? After you
+have cleared the house, you may bring me a decanter of corn whisky--stop
+a bit--you may ask the sheriff to step here."
+
+"Yes, Sah." And Steve withdrew.
+
+The judge drew an easy-chair up to the flat-topped desk that stood in
+the center of the room, and seated himself.
+
+"Are you going to make this the excuse for another drunk, Price? If so,
+I feel the greatest contempt for you," said Mahaffy sternly.
+
+The judge winced at this.
+
+"You have made a regrettable choice of words, Solomon," he urged gently.
+
+"Where's your feeling for the boy?"
+
+"Here!" said the judge, with an eloquent gesture, resting his hand on
+his heart.
+
+"If you let whisky alone, I'll believe you, otherwise what I have said
+must stand."
+
+The door opened, and the sheriff slouched into the room. He was chewing
+a long wheat straw, and his whole appearance was one of troubled
+weakness.
+
+"Morning," he said briefly.
+
+"Sit down, Sheriff," and the judge indicated a meek seat for the
+official in a distant corner. "Have you learned anything?" he asked.
+
+The sheriff shook his head.
+
+"What you turning all these neighbors out of doors for?" he questioned.
+
+"We don't want people tracking in and out the house, Sheriff. Important
+evidence may be destroyed. I propose examining the slaves first--does
+that meet with your approval?"
+
+"Oh, I've talked with them, they don't know nothing," said the sheriff.
+"No one don't know nothing."
+
+"Please God, we may yet put our fingers on some villain who does," said
+the judge.
+
+Outside it was noised about that judge Price had taken matters in
+hand--he was the old fellow who had been warned to keep his mouth shut,
+and who had never stopped talking since. A crowd collected beyond the
+library windows and feasted its eyes on the back of this hero's bald
+head.
+
+One by one the house servants were ushered into the judge's presence.
+First he interrogated little Steve, who had gone to Miss Betty's door
+that morning to rouse her, as was his custom. Next he examined Betty's
+maid; then the cook, and various house servants, who had nothing
+especial to tell, but told it at considerable length; and lastly big
+Steve.
+
+"Stop a bit," the judge suddenly interrupted the butler in the midst of
+his narrative. "Does the overseer always come up to the house the first
+thing in the morning?"
+
+"Why, not exactly, Sah, but he come up this mo'ning, Sah. He was talking
+to me at the back of the house, when the women run out with the word
+that Missy was done gone away."
+
+"He joined in the search?"
+
+"Yes, Sah.''
+
+"When was Miss Malroy seen last?" asked the judge.
+
+"She and the young gemman you fotched heah were seen in the gyarden
+along about sundown. I seen them myself."
+
+"They had had supper?"
+
+"Yes, Sah."
+
+"Who sleeps here?"
+
+"Just little Steve and three of the women, they sleeps at the back of
+the house, Sah.''
+
+"No sounds were heard during the night?"
+
+"No, Sah."
+
+"I'll see the overseer--what's his name?--Hicks? Suppose you go for
+him!" said the judge, addressing the sheriff.
+
+The sheriff was gone from the room only a few moments, and returned
+with the information that Hicks was down at the bayou, which was to be
+dragged.
+
+"Why?" inquired the judge.
+
+"Hicks says Miss Malroy's been acting mighty queer ever since Charley
+Norton was shot--distracted like! He says he noticed it, and that Tom
+Ware noticed it."
+
+"How does he explain the boy's disappearance?"
+
+"He reckons she throwed herself in, and the boy tried to drag her out,
+like he naturally would, and got drawed in."
+
+"Humph! I'll trouble Mr. Hicks to step here," said the judge quietly.
+
+"There's Mr. Carrington and a couple of strangers outside who've been
+asking about Miss Malroy and the boy, seems like the strangers knowed
+her and him back yonder in No'th Carolina," said the sheriff as he
+turned away.
+
+"I'll see them." The sheriff went from the room and the judge dismissed
+the servants.
+
+"Well, what do you think, Price?" asked Mahaffy anxiously when they were
+alone.
+
+"Rubbish! Take my word for it, Solomon, this blow is leveled at me. I
+have been too forward in my attempts to suppress the carnival of crime
+that is raging through west Tennessee. You'll observe that Miss Malroy
+disappeared at a moment when the public is disposed to think she has
+retained me as her legal adviser, probably she will be set at liberty
+when she agrees to drop the matter of Norton's murder. As for the boy,
+they'll use him to compel my silence and inaction." The judge took a
+long breath. "Yet there remains one point where the boy is concerned
+that completely baffles me. If we knew just a little more of his
+antecedents it might cause me to make a startling and radical move."
+
+Mahaffy was clearly not impressed by the vague generalities in which the
+judge was dealing.
+
+"There you go, Price, as usual, trying to convince yourself that you
+are the center of everything!" he said, in a tone of much exasperation.
+"Let's get down to business! What does this man Hicks mean by hinting at
+suicide? You saw Miss Malroy yesterday?"
+
+"You have put your finger on a point of some significance," said the
+judge. "She bore evidence of the shock and loss she had sustained; aside
+from that she was quite as she has always been."
+
+"Well, what do you want to see Hicks for? What do you expect to learn
+from him?"
+
+"I don't like his insistence on the idea that Miss Malroy is mentally
+unbalanced. It's a question of some delicacy--the law, sir, fully
+recognizes that. It seems to me he is overanxious to account for her
+disappearance in a manner that can compromise no one."
+
+Here they were interrupted by the opening of the door, and big Steve
+admitted Carrington and the two men of whom the sheriff had spoken.
+
+"A shocking condition of affairs, Mr. Carrington!" said the judge by way
+of greeting.
+
+"Yes," said Carrington shortly.
+
+"You left these parts some time ago, I believe?" continued the judge.
+
+"The day before Norton was shot. I had started home for Kentucky.
+I heard of his death when I reached Randolph on the second bluff,"
+explained Carrington, from whose cheeks the weather-beaten bloom had
+faded. He rested his hand on the edge of the desk and turned to the men
+who had followed him into the room. "This is the gentleman you wish
+to see," he said, and stepped to one of the windows; it overlooked the
+terraces where he had said good-by to Betty scarcely a week before.
+
+The two men had paused by the door. They now advanced. One was gaunt
+and haggard, his face disfigured by a great red scar, the other was a
+shockheaded individual who moved with a shambling gait. Both carried
+rifles and both were dressed in coarse homespun.
+
+"Morning, sir," said the man with the scar. "Yancy's my name, and this
+gentleman 'lows he'd rather be known now as Mr. Cavendish."
+
+The judge started to his feet.
+
+"Bob Yancy?" he cried.
+
+"Yes, sir, that's me." The judge passed nimbly around the desk and shook
+the Scratch Hiller warmly by the hand. "Where's my nevvy, sir--what's
+all this about him and Miss Betty?" Yancy's soft drawl was suddenly
+eager.
+
+"Please God we'll recover him soon!" said the judge.
+
+By the window Carrington moved impatiently. No harm could come to the
+boy, but Betty--a shudder went through him.
+
+"They've stolen him." Yancy spoke with conviction. "I reckon they've
+started back to No'th Carolina with him--only that don't explain what's
+come of Miss Betty, does it?" and he dropped rather helplessly into a
+chair.
+
+"Bob are just getting off a sick bed. He's been powerful porely in
+consequence of having his head laid open and then being throwed into
+the Elk River, where I fished him out," explained Cavendish, who still
+continued to regard the judge with unmixed astonishment, first cocking
+his shaggy head on one side and then on the other, his bleached eyes
+narrowed to a slit. Now and then he favored the austere Mahaffy with a
+fleeting glance. He seemed intuitively to understand the comradeship of
+their degradation.
+
+"Mr. Cavendish fetched me here on his raft. We tied up to the sho' this
+morning. It was there we met Mr. Carrington--I'd knowed him slightly
+back yonder in No'th Carolina," continued Yancy. "He said I'd find
+Hannibal with you. I was counting a heap on seeing my nevvy."
+
+Carrington, no longer able to control himself, swung about on his heel.
+
+"What's been done?" he asked, with fierce repression. "What's going to
+be done? Don't you know that every second is precious?"
+
+"I am about to conclude my investigations, sir," said the judge with
+dignity.
+
+Carrington stepped to the door. After all, what was there to expect of
+these men? Whatever their interest, it was plainly centered in the boy.
+He passed out into the hall.
+
+As the door closed on him the judge turned again to the Scratch Hiller.
+
+"Mr. Yancy, Mr. Mahaffy and I hold your nephew in the tenderest regard,
+he has been our constant companion ever since you were lost to him. In
+this crisis you may rely upon us; we are committed to his recovery,
+no matter what it involves." The judge's tone was one of unalterable
+resolution.
+
+"I reckon you-all have been mighty good and kind to him," said Yancy
+huskily.
+
+"We have endeavored to be, Mr. Yancy--indeed I had formed the resolution
+legally to adopt him should you not come to claim him. I should have
+given him my name, and made him my heir. His education has already
+begun, under my supervision," and the judge, remembering the high use to
+which he had dedicated one of Pegloe's trade labels, fairly glowed with
+philanthropic fervor.
+
+"Think of that!" murmured Yancy softly. He was deeply moved. So was Mr.
+Cavendish, who was gifted with a wealth of ready sympathy. He thrust out
+a hardened hand to the judge.
+
+"Shake!" he said. "You're a heap better than you look." A thin ripple
+of laughter escaped Mahaffy, but the judge accepted Chills and Fever's
+proffered hand. He understood that here was a simple genuine soul.
+
+"Price, isn't it important for us to know why Mr. Yancy thinks the boy
+has been taken back to North Carolina?" said Mahaffy.
+
+"Just what kin is Hannibal to you, Mr. Yancy?" asked the judge resuming
+his seat.
+
+"Strictly speaking, he ain't none. That he come to live with me is all
+owing to Mr. Crenshaw, who's a good man when left to himself, but he's
+got a wife, so a body may say he never is left to himself," began Yancy;
+and then briefly he told the story of the woman and the child much as
+he had told it to Bladen at the Barony the day of General Quintard's
+funeral.
+
+The judge, his back to the light and his face in shadow, rested his
+left elbow on the desk and with his chin sunk in his palm, followed the
+Scratch Hiller's narrative with the closest attention.
+
+"And General Quintard never saw him--never manifested any interest in
+him?" the words came slowly from the judge's lips, he seemed to gulp
+down something that rose in his throat. "Poor little lad!" he muttered,
+and again, "Poor little lad!"
+
+"Never once, sir. He told the slaves to keep him out of his sight.
+We-all wondered, fo' you know how niggers will talk. We thought maybe he
+was some kin to the Quintards, but we couldn't figure out how. The old
+general never had but one child and she had been dead fo' years. The
+child couldn't have been hers no how." Yancy paused.
+
+The judge drummed idly on the desk.
+
+"What implacable hate--what iron pride!" he murmured, and swept his hand
+across his eyes. Absorbed and aloof, he was busy with his thoughts
+that spanned the waste of years, years that seemed to glide before him in
+review, each bitter with its hideous memories of shame and defeat. Then
+from the smoke of these lost battles emerged the lonely figure of the
+child as he had seen him that June night. His ponderous arm stiffened
+where it rested on the desk, he straightened up in his chair and his
+face assumed its customary expression of battered dignity, while a smile
+at once wistful and tender hovered about his lips.
+
+"One other question," he said. "Until this man Murrell appeared you
+had no trouble with Bladen? He was content that you should keep the
+child--your right to Hannibal was never challenged?"
+
+"Never, sir. All my troubles began about that time."
+
+"Murrell belongs in these parts," said the judge.
+
+"I'd admire fo' to meet him," said Yancy quietly.
+
+The judge grinned.
+
+"I place my professional services at your disposal," he said. "Yours is
+a clear case of felonious assault."
+
+"No, it ain't, sir--I look at it this-a-ways; it's a clear case of my
+giving him the damnedest sort of a body beating!"
+
+"Sir," said the judge, "I'll hold your hat while you are about it!"
+
+Hicks had taken his time in responding to the judge's summons, but now
+his step sounded in the hall and throwing open the door he entered
+the room. Whether consciously or not he had acquired something of that
+surly, forbidding manner which was characteristic of his employer. A
+curt nod of the head was his only greeting.
+
+"Will you sit down?" asked the judge. Hicks signified by another
+movement of the head that he would not. "This is a very dreadful
+business!" began the judge softly.
+
+"Ain't it?" agreed Hicks. "What you got to say to me?" he added
+petulantly.
+
+"Have you started to drag the bayou?" asked the judge. Hicks nodded.
+"That was your idea?" suggested the judge.
+
+"No, it wa'n't," objected Hicks quickly. "But I said she had been actin'
+like she was plumb distracted ever since Charley Norton got shot--"
+
+"How?" inquired the judge, arching his eyebrows. Hicks was plainly
+disturbed by the question.
+
+"Sort of out of her head. Mr. Ware seen it, too--"
+
+"He spoke of it?"
+
+"Yes, sir; him and me discussed it together."
+
+The judge regarded Hicks long and intently and in, silence. His
+magnificent mind was at work. If Betty had been distraught he had not
+observed any sign of it the previous day. If Ware were better informed
+as to her true mental state why had he chosen this time to go to
+Memphis?
+
+"I suppose Mr. Ware asked you to keep an eye on Miss Malroy while he was
+away from home?" said the judge. Hicks, suspicious of the drift of his
+questioning, made no answer. "I suppose you told the house servants to
+keep her under observation?" continued the judge.
+
+"I don't talk to no niggers," replied Hicks, "except to give 'em my
+orders."
+
+"Well, did you give them that order?"
+
+"No, I didn't."
+
+The sudden and hurried entrance of big Steve brought the judge's
+examination of Mr. Hicks to a standstill.
+
+"Mas'r, you know dat 'ar coachman George--the big black fellow dat took
+you into town las' evenin'? I jes' been down at Shanty Hill whar Milly,
+his wife, is carryin' on something scandalous 'cause George ain't never
+come home!" Steve was laboring under intense excitement, but he ignored
+the presence of the overseer and addressed himself to Slocum Price.
+
+"Well, what of that?" cried Hicks quickly.
+
+"Thar warn't no George, mind you, Mas'r, but dar was his team in de
+stable this mo'ning and lookin' mighty nigh done up with hard driving."
+
+"Yes." interrupted Hicks uneasily; "put a pair of lines in a nigger's
+hands and he'll run any team off its legs!"
+
+"An' the kerriage all scratched up from bein' thrashed through the
+bushes," added Steve.
+
+"There's a nigger for you!" said Hicks. "She took the rascal out of the
+field, dressed him like he was a gentleman and pampered him up, and now
+first chance he gets he runs off!"
+
+"Ah!" said the judge softly. "Then you knew this?"
+
+"Of course I knew--wa'n't it my business to know? I reckon he was off
+skylarking, and when he'd seen the mess he'd made, the trifling fool
+took to the woods. Well, he catches it when I lay hands on him!"
+
+"Do you know when and under what circumstances the team was stabled, Mr.
+Hicks?" inquired the judge.
+
+"No, I don't, but I reckon it must have been along after dark," said
+Hicks unwillingly. "I seen to the feeding just after sundown like I
+always do, then I went to supper," Hicks vouchsafed to explain.
+
+"And no one saw or heard the team drive in?"
+
+"Not as I know of," said Hicks.
+
+"Mas'r Ca'ington's done gone off to get a pack of dawgs--he 'lows hit's
+might' important to find what's come of George," said Steve.
+
+Hicks started violently at this piece of news.
+
+"I reckon he'll have to travel a right smart distance to find a pack of
+dogs," he muttered. "I don't know of none this side of Colonel Bates'
+down below Girard."
+
+The judge was lost in thought. He permitted an interval of silence to
+elapse in which Hicks' glance slid round in a furtive circle.
+
+"When did Mr. Ware set out for Memphis?" asked the judge at length.
+
+"Early yesterday. He goes there pretty often on business."
+
+"You talked with Mr. Ware before he left?" Hicks nodded. "Did he speak
+of Miss Malroy?" Hicks shook his head. "Did you see her during the
+afternoon?"
+
+"No--maybe you think these niggers ain't enough to keep a man stirring?"
+said Hicks uneasily and with a scowl. The judge noticed both the
+uneasiness and the scowl.
+
+"I should imagine they would absorb every moment of your time, Mr.
+Hicks," he agreed affably.
+
+"A man's got to be a hog for work to hold a job like mine," said Hicks
+sourly.
+
+"But it came to your notice that Miss Malroy has been in a disturbed
+mental state ever since Mr. Norton's murder? I am interested in this
+point, Mr. Hicks, because your experience is so entirely at variance
+with my own. It was my privilege to see and speak with her yesterday
+afternoon; I was profoundly impressed by her naturalness and composure."
+The judge smiled, then he leaned forward across the desk. "What were you
+doing up here early this morning--hasn't a hog for work like you got
+any business of his own at that hour?" The judge's tone was suddenly
+offensive.
+
+"Look here, what right have you got to try and pump me?" cried Hicks.
+
+For no discernible reason Mr. Cavendish spat on his palms.
+
+"Mr. Hicks," said the judge, urbane and gracious, "I believe in
+frankness."
+
+"Sure," agreed Hicks, mollified by the judge's altered tone.
+
+"Therefore I do not hesitate to say that I consider you a damned
+scoundrel!" concluded the judge.
+
+Mr. Cavendish, accepting the judge's ultimatum as something which
+must debar Hicks from all further consideration, and being, as he was,
+exceedingly active and energetic by nature, if one passed over the
+various forms of gainful industry, uttered a loud whoop and threw
+himself on the overseer. There was a brief struggle and Hicks went down
+with the Earl of Lambeth astride of him; then from his boot leg that
+knightly soul flashed a horn-handled tickler of formidable dimensions.
+
+The judge, Yancy, and Mahaffy, sprang from their chairs. Mr. Mahaffy was
+plainly shocked at the spectacle of Mr. Cavendish's lawless violence.
+Yancy was disturbed too, but not by the moral aspects of the case; he
+was doubtful as to just how his friend's act would appeal to the judge.
+He need not have been distressed on that score, since the judge's one
+idea was to profit by it. With his hands on his knees he was now bending
+above the two men.
+
+"What do you want to know, judge?" cried Cavendish, panting from his
+exertions. "I'll learn this parrot to talk up!"
+
+"Hicks," said the judge, "it is in your power to tell us a few things we
+are here to find out." Hicks looked up into the judge's face and closed
+his lips grimly. "Mr. Cavendish, kindly let him have the point of that
+large knife where he'll feel it most!" ordered the judge.
+
+"Talk quick!" said Cavendish with a ferocious scowl. "Talk--or what's
+to hinder me slicing open your woozen?" and he pressed the blade of his
+knife against the overseer's throat.
+
+"I don't know anything about Miss Betty," said Hicks in a sullen
+whisper.
+
+"Maybe you don't, but what do you know about the boy?" Hicks was silent,
+but he was grateful for the judge's question. From Tom Ware he had
+learned of Fentress' interest in the boy. Why should he shelter the
+colonel at risk to himself? "If you please, Mr. Cavendish!" said the
+judge quietly nodding toward the knife.
+
+"You didn't ask me about him," said Hicks quickly.
+
+"I do now," said the judge.
+
+"He was here yesterday."
+
+"Mr. Cavendish--" and again the judge glanced toward the knife.
+
+"Wait!" cried Hicks. "You go to Colonel Fentress."
+
+"Let him up, Mr. Cavendish; that's all we want to mow," said the judge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. COLONEL FENTRESS
+
+
+The judge had not forgotten his ghost, the ghost he had seen in Mr.
+Saul's office that day he went to the court-house on business for
+Charley Norton. Working or idling--principally the latter--drunk or
+sober--principally the former--the ghost, otherwise Colonel Fentress,
+had preserved a place in his thoughts, and now as he moved stolidly up
+the drive toward Fentress' big white house on the hill with Mahaffy,
+Cavendish, and Yancy trailing in his wake, memories of what had once
+been living and vital crowded in upon him. Some sense of the wreck that
+littered the long years, and the shame of the open shame that had swept
+away pride and self-respect, came back to him out of the past.
+
+He only paused when he stood on the portico before Fentress' open door.
+He glanced about him at the wide fields, bounded by the distant timber
+lands that hid gloomy bottoms, at the great log barns in the hollow to
+his right; at the huddle of whitewashed cabins beyond; then with his
+big fist he reached in and pounded on the door. The blows echoed loudly
+through the silent house, and an instant later Fentress' tall, spare
+figure was seen advancing from the far end of the hall.
+
+"Who is it?" he asked.
+
+"Judge Price--Colonel Fentress'' said the judge.
+
+"Judge Price," uncertainly, and still advancing.
+
+"I had flattered myself that you must have heard of me," said the judge.
+
+"I think I have," said Fentress, pausing now.
+
+"He thinks he has!" muttered the judge under his breath.
+
+"Will you come in?" it was more a question than an invitation.
+
+"If you are at liberty." The colonel bowed. "Allow me," the judge
+continued. "Colonel Fentress--Mr. Mahaffy, Mr. Yancy and Mr. Cavendish."
+Again the colonel bowed.
+
+"Will you step into the library?"
+
+"Very good," and the judge followed the colonel briskly down the hall.
+
+When they entered the library Fentress turned and took stock of his
+guests. Mahaffy he had seen before; Yancy and Cavendish were of course
+strangers to him, but their appearance explained them; last of all his
+glance shifted to the judge. He had heard something of those activities
+by means of which Slocum Price had striven to distinguish himself,
+and he had a certain curiosity respecting the man. It was immediately
+satisfied. The judge had reached a degree of shabbiness seldom equaled,
+and but for his mellow, effulgent personality might well have passed
+for a common vagabond; and if his dress advertised the state of his
+finances, his face explained his habits. No misconception was possible
+about either.
+
+"May I offer you a glass of liquor?" asked Fentress, breaking the
+silence. He stepped to the walnut centertable where there was a decanter
+and glasses. By a gesture the judge declined the invitation. Whereat
+the colonel looked surprised, but not so surprised as Mahaffy. There was
+another silence.
+
+"I don't think we ever met before?" observed Fentress. There was
+something in the fixed stare his visitor was bending upon him that he
+found disquieting, just why, he could not have told.
+
+But that fixed stare of the judge's continued. No, the man had
+not changed--he had grown older certainly, but age had not come
+ungracefully; he became the glossy broadcloth and spotless linen he
+wore. Here was a man who could command the good things of life, using
+them with a rational temperance. The room itself was in harmony with
+his character; it was plain but rich in its appointments, at once his
+library and his office, while the well-filled cases ranged about the
+walls showed his tastes to be in the main scholarly and intellectual.
+
+"How long have you lived here?" asked the judge abruptly. Fentress
+seemed to hesitate; but the judge's glance, compelling and insistent,
+demanded an answer.
+
+"Ten years."
+
+"You have known many men of all classes as a lawyer and a planter?" said
+the judge. Fentress inclined his head. The judge took a step nearer
+him. "People have a great trick of coming and going in these western
+states--all sorts of damned riffraff drift in and out of these new
+lands." A deadly earnestness lifted the judge's words above mere
+rudeness. Fentress, cold and distant, made no reply. "For the
+past twenty years I have been looking for a man by the name of
+Gatewood--David Gatewood." Disciplined as he was, the colonel started
+violently. "Ever heard of him, Fentress?" demanded the judge with a
+savage scowl.
+
+"What's all this to me?" The words came with a gasp from Fentress'
+twitching lips. The judge looked at him moody and frowning.
+
+"I have reason to think this man Gatewood came to west Tennessee," he
+said.
+
+"If so, I have never heard of him."
+
+"Perhaps not under that name--at any rate you are going to hear of
+him now. This man Gatewood, who between ourselves was a damned
+scoundrel"--the colonel winced--"this man Gatewood had a friend who
+threw money and business in his way--a planter he was, same as Gatewood.
+A sort of partnership existed between the pair. It proved an expensive
+enterprise for Gatewood's friend, since he came to trust the damned
+scoundrel more and more as time passed--even large sums of his money
+were in Gatewood's hands--" the judge paused. Fentress' countenance was
+like stone, as expressionless and as rigid.
+
+By the door stood Mahaffy with Yancy and Cavendish; they understood that
+what was obscure and meaningless to them held a tragic significance
+to these two men. The judge's heavy face, ordinarily battered and
+debauched, but infinitely good-natured, bore now the markings of deep
+passion, and the voice that rumbled forth from his capacious chest came
+to their ears like distant thunder.
+
+"This friend of Gatewood's had a wife--" The judge's voice broke,
+emotion shook him like a leaf, he was tearing open his wounds. He
+reached over and poured himself a drink, sucking it down with greedy
+lips. "There was a wife--" he whirled about on his heel and faced
+Fentress again. "There was a wife, Fentress--" he fixed Fentress with
+his blazing eyes.
+
+"A wife and child. Well, one day Gatewood and the wife were missing.
+Under the circumstances Gatewood's friend was well rid of the pair--he
+should have been grateful, but he wasn't, for his wife took his child,
+a daughter; and Gatewood a trifle of thirty thousand dollars his friend
+had intrusted to him!"
+
+There was another silence.
+
+"At a later day I met this man who had been betrayed by his wife and
+robbed by his friend. He had fallen out of the race--drink had done for
+him--there was just one thing he seemed to care about and that was the
+fate of his child, but maybe he was only curious there. He wondered if
+she had lived, and married--" Once more the judge paused.
+
+"What's all this to me?" asked Fentress.
+
+"Are you sure it's nothing to you?" demanded the judge hoarsely.
+"Understand this, Fentress. Gatewood's treachery brought ruin to at
+least two lives. It caused the woman's father to hide his face from the
+world, it wasn't enough for him that his friends believed his daughter
+dead; he knew differently and the shame of that knowledge ate into his
+soul. It cost the husband his place in the world, too--in the end it
+made of him a vagabond and a penniless wanderer."
+
+"This is nothing to me," said Fentress.
+
+"Wait!" cried the judge. "About six years ago the woman was seen at her
+father's home in North Carolina. I reckon Gatewood had cast her off. She
+didn't go back empty-handed. She had run away from her husband with a
+child--a girl; after a lapse of twenty years she returned to her
+father with a boy of two or three. There are two questions that must be
+answered when I find Gatewood: what became of the woman and what became
+of the child; are they living or dead; did the daughter grow up and
+marry and have a son? When I get my answer it will be time enough to
+think of Gatewood's punishment!" The judge leaned forward across the
+table, bringing his face close to Fentress' face. "Look at me--do you
+know me now?"
+
+But Fentress' expression never altered. The judge fell back a step.
+
+"Fentress, I want the boy," he said quietly.
+
+"What boy?"
+
+"My grandson."
+
+"You are mad! What do I know of him--or you?" Fentress was gaining
+courage from the sound of his own voice.
+
+"You know who he is and where he is. Your business relations with
+General Ware have put you on the track of the Quintard lands in this
+state. You intend to use the boy to gather them in."
+
+"You're mad!" repeated Fentress.
+
+"Unless you bring him to me inside of twenty-four hours I'll smash
+you!" roared the judge. "Your name isn't Fentress, it's Gatewood; you've
+stolen the name of Fentress, just as you have stolen other things.
+What's come of Turberville's wife and child? What's come of
+Turberville's money? Damn your soul! I want my grandson! I'll pull you
+down and leave you stripped and bare! I'll tell the world the false
+friend you've been--the thief you are! I'll strip you and turn you out
+of these doors as naked as when you entered the world!" The judge seemed
+to tower above Fentress, the man had shot up out of his deep debasement.
+"Choose! Choose!" he thundered, his shaggy brows bent in a menacing
+frown.
+
+"I know nothing about the boy," said Fentress slowly.
+
+"By God, you lie!" stormed the judge.
+
+"I know nothing about the boy," and Fentress took a step toward the
+door.
+
+"Stay where you are!" commanded the judge. "If you attempt to leave this
+room to call your niggers I'll kill you on its threshold!"
+
+But Yancy and Cavendish had stepped to the door with an intention that
+was evident, and Fentress' thin face cast itself in haggard lines. He
+was feeling the judge's terrible capacity, his unexpected ability to
+deal with a supreme situation. Even Mahaffy gazed at his friend in
+wonder. He had only seen him spend himself on trifles, with no further
+object than the next meal or the next drink; he had believed that as
+he knew him so he had always been, lax and loose of tongue and deed,
+a noisy tavern hero, but now he saw that he was filling what must have
+been the measure of his manhood.
+
+"I tell you I had no hand in carrying off the boy," said Fentress with a
+sardonic smile.
+
+"I look to you to return him. Stir yourself, Gatewood, or by God, I'll
+hold so fierce a reckoning with you--"
+
+The sentence remained unfinished, for Fentress felt his overwrought
+nerves snap, and giving way to a sudden blind fury struck at the judge.
+
+"We are too old for rough and tumble," said the judge, who had displayed
+astonishing agility in avoiding the blow. "Furthermore we were once
+gentlemen. At present I am what I am, while you are a hound and a
+blackguard! We'll settle this as becomes our breeding." He poured
+himself a second glass of liquor from Fentress' decanter. "I wonder
+if it is possible to insult you," and he tossed glass and contents in
+Fentress' face. The colonel's thin features were convulsed. The judge
+watched him with a scornful curling of the lips. "I am treating you
+better than you deserve," he taunted.
+
+"To-morrow morning at sun-up at Boggs' racetrack!" cried Fentress. The
+judge bowed with splendid courtesy.
+
+"Nothing could please me half so well," he declared. He turned to the
+others. "Gentlemen, this is a private matter. When I have met Colonel
+Fentress I shall make a public announcement of why this appeared
+necessary to me; until then I trust this matter will not be given
+publicity. May I ask your silence?" He bowed again, and abruptly passed
+from the room.
+
+His three friends followed in his steps, leaving Fentress standing by
+the table, the ghost of a smile on his thin lips.
+
+As if the very place were evil, the judge hurried down the drive toward
+the road. At the gate he paused and turned on his companions, but his
+features wore a look of dignity that forbade comment or question. He
+held out his hand to Yancy.
+
+"Sir," he said, "if I could command the riches of the Indies, it would
+tax my resources to meet the fractional part of my obligations to you."
+
+"Think of that!" said Yancy, as much overwhelmed by the judge's manner
+as by his words.
+
+"His Uncle Bob shall keep his place in my grandson's life! We'll watch
+him grow into manhood together." The judge was visibly affected. A smile
+of deep content parted Mr. Yancy's lips as his muscular fingers closed
+about the judge's hand with crushing force.
+
+"Whoop!" cried Cavendish, delighted at this recognition of Yancy's love
+for the boy, and he gleefully smote the austere Mahaffy on the shoulder.
+But Mahaffy was dumb in the presence of the decencies, he quite lacked
+an interpreter. The judge looked back at the house.
+
+"Mine!" he muttered. "The clothes he stands in, the food he eats--mine!
+Mine!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. THE BUBBLE BURSTS
+
+
+At about the same hour that the judge was hurling threats and insults at
+Colonel Fentress, three men were waiting ten miles away at the head
+of the bayou which served to isolate Hicks' cabin. Now no one of these
+three had ever heard of Judge Slocum Price; the breath of his fame had
+never blown, however gently, in their direction, yet they were preparing
+to thrust opportunity upon him. To this end they were lounging about the
+opening in the woods where the horses belonging to Ware and Murrell were
+tied.
+
+At length the dip of oars became audible in the silence and one of
+the trio stole down the path, a matter of fifty yards, to a point that
+overlooked the bayou. He was gone but a moment.
+
+"It's Murrell all right!" he said in an eager whisper. "Him and another
+fellow--the Hicks girl is rowing them." He glanced from one to the other
+of his companions, who seemed to take firmer hold of themselves under
+his eye. "It'll be all right," he protested lightly. "He's as good
+as ours. Wait till I give you the word." And he led the way into an
+adjacent thicket.
+
+Meantime Ware and Murrell had landed and were coming along the path, the
+outlaw a step or two in advance of his friend. They reached the horses
+and were untying them when the thicket suddenly disgorged the three men;
+each held a cocked pistol; two of these pistols covered Murrell and the
+third was leveled at Ware.
+
+"Hues!" cried Murrell in astonishment, for the man confronting him was
+the Clan's messenger who should have been speeding across the state.
+
+"Toss up your hands, Murrell," said Hues quietly.
+
+One of the other men spoke.
+
+"You are under arrest!"
+
+"Arrest!"
+
+"You are wanted for nigger-stealing," said the man. Still Murrell did
+not seem to comprehend. He looked at Hues in dull wonder.
+
+"What are you doing here?" he asked.
+
+"Waiting to arrest you--ain't that plain?" said Hues, with a grim smile.
+
+The outlaw's hands dropped at his side, limp and helpless. With some
+idea that he might attempt to draw a weapon one of the men took hold of
+him, but Murrell was nerveless to his touch; his face had gone a ghastly
+white and was streaked with the markings of terror.
+
+"Well, by thunder!" cried the man in utter amazement.
+
+Murrell looked into Hues' face.
+
+"You--you--" and the words thickened on his tongue becoming an
+inarticulate murmur.
+
+"It's all up, John," said Hues.
+
+"No!" said Murrell, recovering himself. "You may as well turn me
+loose--you can't arrest me!"
+
+"I've done it," answered Hues, with a laugh. "I've been on your track
+for six months."
+
+"How about this fellow?" asked the man, whose pistol still covered Ware.
+Hues glanced toward the planter and shook his head.
+
+"Where are you going to take me?" asked Murrell quickly. Again Hues
+laughed.
+
+"You'll find that out in plenty of time, and then your friends can pass
+the word around if they like; now you'll come with me!"
+
+Ware neither moved nor spoke as Hues and his prisoner passed back along
+the path, Hues with his hand on Murrell's shoulder, and one of his
+companions close at his heels, while the third man led off the outlaw's
+horse.
+
+Presently the distant clatter of hoofs was borne to Ware's ears--only
+that; the miracle of courage and daring he had half expected had not
+happened. Murrell, for all his wild boasting, was like other men, like
+himself. His bloodshot eyes slid around in their sockets. There across
+the sunlit stretch of water was Betty--the thought of her brought him
+to quick choking terrors. The whole fabric of crime by which he had been
+benefited in the past or had expected to profit in the future seemed
+toppling in upon him, but his mind clutched one important fact. Hues, if
+he knew of Betty's disappearance, did not connect Murrell with it. Ware
+sucked in comfort between his twitching lips. Stealing niggers! No one
+would believe that he, a planter, had a hand in that, and for a brief
+instant he considered signaling Bess to return. Slosson must be told
+of Murrell's arrest; but he was sick with apprehension, some trap might
+have been prepared for him, he could not know; and the impulse to act
+forsook him.
+
+He smote his hands together in a hopeless, beaten gesture. And Murrell
+had gone weak--with his own eyes he had seen it--Murrell--whom he
+believed without fear! He felt that he had been grievously betrayed in
+his trust and a hot rage poured through him. At last he climbed into the
+saddle, and swaying like a drunken man, galloped off.
+
+When he reached the river road he paused and scanned its dusty surface.
+Hues and his party had turned south when they issued from the wood path.
+No doubt Murrell was being taken to Memphis. Ware laughed harshly. The
+outlaw would be free before another dawn broke.
+
+He had halted near where Jim had turned his team the previous night
+after Betty and Hannibal had left the carriage; the marks of the wheels
+were as plainly distinguishable as the more recent trail left by the
+four men, and as he grasped the significance of that wide half circle
+his sense of injury overwhelmed him again. He hoped to live to see
+Murrell hanged!
+
+He was so completely lost in his bitter reflections that he had been
+unaware of a mounted man who was coming toward him at a swift gallop,
+but now he heard the steady pounding of hoofs and, startled by the
+sound, looked up. A moment later the horseman drew rein at his side.
+
+"Ware!" he cried.
+
+"How are you, Carrington?" said the planter.
+
+"You are wanted at Belle Plain," began Carrington, and seemed to
+hesitate.
+
+"Yes--yes, I am going there at once--now--" stammered Ware, and gathered
+up his reins with a shaking hand.
+
+"You've heard, I take it?" said Carrington slowly.
+
+"Yes," answered Ware, in a hoarse whisper. "My God, Carrington, I'm
+heart sick; she has been like a daughter to me!" he fell silent mopping
+his face.
+
+"I think I understand your feeling," said Carrington, giving him a level
+glance.
+
+"Then you'll excuse me," and the planter clapped spurs to his horse.
+Once he looked back over his shoulder; he saw that Carrington had not
+moved from the spot where they had met.
+
+At Belle Plain, Ware found his neighbors in possession of the place.
+They greeted him quietly and spoke in subdued tones of their sympathy.
+The planter listened with an air of such abject misery that those who
+had neither liked nor respected him, were roused to a sudden generous
+feeling where he was concerned, they could not question but that he was
+deeply affected. After all the man might have a side to his nature with
+which they had never come in contact.
+
+When he could he shut himself in his room. He had experienced a day of
+maddening anxiety, he had not slept at all the previous night, in mind
+and body he was worn out; and now he was plunged into the thick of this
+sensation. He must keep control of himself, for every word he said would
+be remembered. In the present there was sympathy for him, but sooner or
+later people would return to their sordid unemotional judgments.
+
+He sought to forecast the happenings of the next few hours. Murrell's
+friends would break jail for him, that was a foregone conclusion, but
+the insurrection he had planned was at an end. Hues had dealt its death
+blow. Moreover, though the law might be impotent to deal with Murrell,
+he could not hope to escape the vengeance of the powerful class he had
+plotted to destroy; he would have to quit the country. Ware gloated in
+this idea of craven flight. Thank God, he had seen the last of him!
+
+But as always his thoughts came back to Betty. Slosson would wait at
+the Hicks' place for the man Murrell had promised him, and failing this
+messenger, for the signal fire, but there would be neither; and Slosson
+would be left to determine his own course of action. Ware felt certain
+that he would wait through the night, but as sure as the morning broke,
+if no word had reached him, he would send one of his men across the
+bayou, who must learn of Murrell's arrest, escape, flight--for in Ware's
+mind these three events were indissolubly associated. The planter's
+teeth knocked together. He was having a terrible acquaintance with fear,
+its very depths had swallowed him up; it was a black pit in which he
+sank from horror to horror. He had lost all faith in the Clan which
+had terrorized half a dozen states, which had robbed and murdered with
+apparent impunity, which had marketed its hundreds of stolen slaves. He
+had utterly collapsed at the first blow dealt the organization, but he
+was still seeing Murrell, pallid and shaken.
+
+A step sounded in the hall and an instant later Hicks entered the room
+without the formality of knocking. Ware recognized his presence with
+a glance of indifference, but did not speak. Hicks slouched to his
+employer's side and handed him a note which proved to be from Fentress.
+Ware read and tossed it aside.
+
+"If he wants to see me why don't he come here?" he growled.
+
+"I reckon that old fellow they call Judge Price has sprung something
+sudden on the colonel," said Hicks.
+
+"He was out here the first thing this morning; you'd have thought he
+owned Belle Plain. There was a couple of strangers with him, and he had
+me in and fired questions at me for half an hour, then he hiked off up
+to The Oaks."
+
+"Murrell's been arrested," said Ware in a dull level voice. Hicks gave
+him a glance of unmixed astonishment.
+
+"No!" he cried.
+
+"Yes, by God!"
+
+"Who'd risk it?"
+
+"Risk it? Man, he almost fainted dead away--a damned coward. Hell!"
+
+"How do you know this?" asked Hicks, appalled.
+
+"I was with him when he was taken--it was Hues the man he trusted more
+than any other!" Ware gave the overseer a ghastly grin and was silent,
+but in that silence he heard the drumming of his own heart. He went on.
+"I tell you to save himself John Murrell will implicate the rest of us;
+we've got to get him free, and then, by hell--we ought to knock him in
+the head; he isn't fit to live!"
+
+"The jail ain't built that'll hold him!!" muttered Hicks.
+
+"Of course, he can't be held," agreed Ware. "And 'he'll never be brought
+to trial; no lawyer will dare appear against him, no jury will dare find
+him guilty; but there's Hues, what about him?" He paused. The two men
+looked at each other for a long moment.
+
+"Where did they carry the captain?" inquired Hicks.
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"It looks like the Clan was in a hell-fired hole--but shucks! What
+will be easier than to fix Hues?--and while they're fixing folks they'd
+better not overlook that old fellow Price. He's got some notion about
+Fentress and the boy." Mr. Hicks did not consider it necessary to
+explain that he was himself largely responsible for this.
+
+"How do you know that?" demanded Ware.
+
+"He as good as said so." Hicks looked uneasily at the planter. He knew
+himself to be compromised. The stranger named Cavendish had forced an
+admission from him that Murrell would not condone if it came to his
+knowledge. He had also acquired a very proper and wholesome fear of
+Judge Slocum Price. He stepped close to Ware's side. "What'll come of
+the girl, Tom? Can you figure that out?" he questioned, sinking his
+voice almost to a whisper. But Ware was incapable of speech, again
+his terrors completely overwhelmed him. "I reckon you'll have to find
+another overseer. I'm going to strike out for Texas," said Hicks.
+
+Ware's eyes met his for an instant. He had thought of flight, too, was
+still thinking of it, but greed was as much a part of his nature as
+fear; Belle Plain was a prize not to be lightly cast aside, and it was
+almost his. He lurched across the room to the window. If he were going
+to act, the sooner he did so the better, and gain a respite from his
+fears. The road down the coast slid away before his heavy eyes, he
+marked each turn; then a palsy of fear shook him, his heart beat against
+his ribs, and he stood gnawing his lips while he gazed up at the sun.
+
+"Do you get what I say, Tom? I am going to quit these parts," said
+Hicks. Ware turned slowly from the window.
+
+"All right, Hicks. You mean you want me to settle with you, is that it?"
+he asked.
+
+"Yes, I'm going to leave while I can, maybe I can't later on," said
+Hicks stolidly. He added: "I am going to start down the coast as soon
+as it turns dark, and before it's day again I'll have put the good miles
+between me and these parts."
+
+"You're going down the coast?" and Ware was again conscious of the
+quickened beating of his heart. Hicks nodded. "See you don't meet up
+with John Murrell," said Ware.
+
+"I'll take that chance. It seems a heap better to me than staying here."
+
+Ware looked from the window. The shadows were lengthening across the
+lawn.
+
+"Better start now, Hicks," he advised.
+
+"I'll wait until it turns dark."
+
+"You'll need a horse."
+
+"I was going to help myself to one. This ain't no time to stand on
+ceremony," said Hicks shortly.
+
+"Slosson shouldn't be left in the lurch like this--or your brother's
+folks--"
+
+"They'll have to figure it out for themselves same as me," rejoined
+Hicks.
+
+"You can stop there as you go by."
+
+"No," said Hicks; "I never did believe in this damn foolishness about
+the girl, and I won't go near George's--"
+
+"I don't ask you to go there, you can give them the signal from the
+head of the bayou. All I want is for you to stop and light a fire on
+the shore. They'll know what that means. I'll give you a horse and fifty
+dollars for the job."
+
+Hicks' eyes sparkled, but he only said
+
+"Make it twice that and maybe we can deal."
+
+Racked and tortured, Ware hesitated; but the sun was slipping into the
+west, his windows blazed with the hot light.
+
+"You swear you'll do your part?" he said thickly. He took his purse from
+his pocket and counted out the amount due Hicks. He named the total, and
+paused irresolutely.
+
+"Don't you want the fire lighted?" asked Hicks. He was familiar with his
+employer's vacillating moods.
+
+"Yes," answered Ware, his lips quivering; and slowly, with shaking
+fingers, he added to the pile of bills in Hicks' hand.
+
+"Well, take care of yourself," said Hicks, when the count was complete.
+He thrust the roll of bills into his pocket and moved to the door.
+
+Alone again, the planter collapsed into his chair, breathing heavily,
+but his terrors swept over him and left him with a savage sense of
+triumph. This passed, he sprang up, intending to recall Hicks and unmake
+his bargain. What had he been thinking of--safety lay only in flight!
+Before he reached the door his greed was in the ascendant. He dropped
+down on the edge of his bed, his eyes fixed on the window. The sun sank
+lower. From where he sat he saw it through the upper half of the sash,
+blood-red and livid in a mist of fleecy clouds.
+
+It was in the tops of the old oaks now, which sent their shadows into
+his room. Again maddened by his terrors he started up and backed toward
+the door; but again his greed, the one dominating influence in his life,
+vanquished him.
+
+He watched the sun sink. He watched the red splendor fade over the
+river; he saw the first stars appear. He told himself that Hicks would
+soon be gone--if the fire was not to be lighted he must act at once!
+He stole to the window. It was dusk now, yet he could distinguish the
+distant wooded boundaries of the great fields framed by the darkening
+sky. Then in the silence he heard the thud of hoofs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. THE KEEL BOAT
+
+
+"PRICE," began Mahaffy. They were back in Raleigh in the room the judge
+called his office, and this was Mahaffy's first opportunity to ease his
+mind on the subject of the duel, as they had only just parted from Yancy
+and Cavendish, who had stopped at one of the stores to make certain
+purchases for the raft.
+
+"Not a word, Solomon--it had to come. I am going to kill him. I shall
+feel better then."
+
+"What if he kills you?" demanded Mahaffy harshly. The judge shrugged his
+shoulders.
+
+"That is as it may be."
+
+"Have you forgotten your grandson?" Mahaffy's voice was still harsh and
+rasping.
+
+"I regard my meeting with Fentress as nothing less than a sacred duty to
+him."
+
+"We know no more than we did this morning," said Mahaffy. "You are
+mixing up all sorts of side issues with what should be your real
+purpose."
+
+"Not at all, Solomon--not at all! I look upon my grandson's speedy
+recovery as an assured fact. Fentress dare not hold him. He knows he is
+run to earth at last."
+
+"Price--"
+
+"No, Solomon--no, my friend, we will not speak of it again. You will
+go back to Belle Plain with Yancy and Cavendish; you must represent me
+there. We have as good as found Hannibal, but we must be active in Miss
+Malroy's behalf. For us that has an important bearing on the future, and
+since I can not, you must be at Belle Plain when Carrington arrives
+with his pack of dogs. Give him the advantage of your sound and
+mature judgment, Solomon; don't let any false modesty keep you in the
+background."
+
+"Who's going to second you?" snapped Mahaffy.
+
+The judge was the picture of indifference.
+
+"It will be quite informal, the code is scarcely applicable; I merely
+intend to remove him because he is not fit to live."
+
+"At sun-up!" muttered Mahaffy.
+
+"I intend to start one day right even if I never live to begin another,"
+said the judge, a sudden fierce light flashing from his eyes. "I feel
+that this is the turning point in my career, Solomon!" he went on. "The
+beginning of great things! But I shall take no chances with the future,
+I shall prepare for every possible contingency. I am going to make you
+and Yancy my grandson's guardians. There's a hundred thousand acres of
+land hereabout that must come to him. I shall outline in writing the
+legal steps to be taken to substantiate his claims. Also he will inherit
+largely from me at my death."
+
+Something very like laughter escaped from Mahaffy's lips.
+
+"There you go, Solomon, with your inopportune mirth! What in God's name
+have I if I haven't hope? Take that from me and what would I be?
+Why, the very fate I have been fighting off with tooth and nail would
+overwhelm me. I'd sink into unimportance--my unparalleled misfortunes
+would degrade me to a level with the commonest! No, sir, I've never been
+without hope, and though I've fallen I've always got up. What Fentress
+has is based on money he stole from me. By God, the days of his
+profit-taking are at an end! I am going to strip him. And even if I
+don't live to enjoy what's mine, my grandson shall! He shall wear
+velvet and a lace collar and ride his pony yet, by God, as a gentleman's
+grandson should!"
+
+"It sounds well, Price, but where's the money coming from to push a
+lawsuit?"
+
+The judge waved this aside.
+
+"The means will be found, Solomon. Our horizon is lifting--I can see it
+lift! Don't drag me back from the portal of hope! We'll drink the stuff
+that comes across the water; I'll warm the cockles of your heart with
+imported brandy. I carry twenty years' hunger and thirst under my
+wes-coat and I'll feed and drink like a gentleman yet!" The judge
+smacked his lips in an ecstasy of enjoyment, and dropping down before
+the table which served him as a desk, seized a pen.
+
+"It's good enough to think about, Price," admitted Mahaffy grudgingly.
+
+"It's better to do; and if anything happens to me the papers I am going
+to leave will tell you how it's to be done. Man, there's a million of
+money in sight, and we've got to get it and spend it and enjoy it! None
+of your swinish thrift for me, but life on a big scale--company, and
+feasting, and refined surroundings!"
+
+"And you are going to meet Fentress in the morning?" asked Mahaffy. "I
+suppose there's no way of avoiding that?"
+
+"Avoiding it?" almost shouted the judge. "For what have I been living?
+I shall meet him, let the consequences be what they may. To-night when
+I have reduced certain facts to writing I shall join you at Belle Plain.
+The strange and melancholy history of my life I shall place in your
+hands for safe keeping. In the morning I can be driven back to Boggs'."
+
+"And you will go there without a second?"
+
+"If necessary; yes."
+
+"I declare, Price, you are hardly fitted to be at large! Why, you act as
+if you were tired of life. There's Yancy--there's Cavendish!"
+
+The judge gave him an indulgent but superior smile.
+
+"Two very worthy men, but I go to Boggs' attended by a gentleman or I go
+there alone. I am aware of your prejudices, Solomon; otherwise I might
+ask this favor of you."
+
+Mr. Mahaffy snorted loudly and turned to the door, for Yancy and
+Cavendish were now approaching the house, the latter with a meal sack
+slung over his shoulder.
+
+"Here, Solomon, take one of my pistols," urged the judge hastily. "You
+may need it at Belle Plain. Goodby, and God bless you!"
+
+Just where he had parted from Ware, Carrington sat his horse, his brows
+knit and his eyes turned in the direction of the path. He was on his way
+to a plantation below Girard, the owner of which had recently imported
+a pack of bloodhounds; but this unexpected encounter with Ware had
+affected him strangely. He still heard Tom's stammering speech, he was
+still seeing his ghastly face, and he had come upon him with startling
+suddenness. He had chanced to look back over his shoulder and when he
+faced about there had been the planter within a hundred yards of him.
+
+Presently Carrington's glance ceased to follow the windings of the path.
+He stared down at the gray dust and saw the trail left by Hues and his
+party. For a moment he hesitated; if the dogs were to be used with
+any hope of success he had no time to spare, and this was the merest
+suspicion, illogical conjecture, based on nothing beyond his distrust
+of Ware. In the end he sprang from the saddle and leading his horse into
+the woods, tied it to a sapling.
+
+A hurried investigation told him that five men had ridden in and out of
+that path. Of the five, all coming from the south, four had turned
+south again, but the fifth man--Ware, in other words--had gone north. He
+weighed the possible significance of these facts.
+
+"I am only wasting time!" he confessed reluctantly, and was on the point
+of turning away, when, on the very edge of the road and just where the
+dust yielded to the hard clay of the path, his glance lighted on the
+print of a small and daintily shod foot. The throbbing of his heart
+quickened curiously.
+
+"Betty!" The word leaped from his lips.
+
+That small foot had left but the one impress. There were other signs,
+however, that claimed his attention; namely, the bootprints of Slosson
+and his men; and he made the inevitable discovery that these tracks
+were all confined to the one spot. They began suddenly and as suddenly
+ceased, yet there was no mystery about these; he had the marks of the
+wheels to help him to a sure conclusion. A carriage had turned just
+here, several men had alighted, they had with them a child or a woman.
+Either they had reentered the carriage and driven back as they had come,
+or they had gone toward the river. He felt the soul within him turn
+sick.
+
+He stole along the path; the terror of the river was ever in his
+thoughts, and the specter of his fear seemed to flit before him and lure
+him on. Presently he caught his first glimpse of the bayou and his legs
+shook under him; but the path wound deeper still into what appeared to
+be an untouched solitude, wound on between the crowding tree forms,
+a little back from the shore, with an intervening tangle of vines
+and bushes. He scanned this closely as he hurried forward, scarcely
+conscious that he was searching for some trampled space at the water's
+edge; but the verdant wall preserved its unbroken continuity, and twenty
+minutes later he came within sight of the Hicks' clearing and the keel
+boat, where it rested against the bank.
+
+A little farther on he found the spot where Slosson had launched the
+skiff the night before. The keel of his boat had cut deep into the
+slippery clay; more than this, the impress of the small shoe was
+repeated here, and just beside it was the print of a child's bare foot.
+
+He no longer doubted that Betty and Hannibal had been taken across the
+bayou to the cabin, and he ran back up the path the distance of a mile
+and plunged into the woods on his right, his purpose being to pass
+around the head of the expanse of sluggish water to a point from which
+he could later approach the cabin. But the cabin proved to be better
+defended than he had foreseen; and as he advanced, the difficulties of
+the task he had set himself became almost insurmountable; yet sustained
+as he was by his imperative need, he tore his way through the labyrinth
+of trailing vines, or floundered across acre-wide patches of green slime
+and black mud, which at each step threatened to engulf him in their
+treacherous depths, until at the end of an hour he gained the southern
+side of the clearing and a firmer footing within the shelter of the
+woods.
+
+Here he paused and took stock of his surroundings. The two or three
+buildings Mr. Hicks had erected stood midway of the clearing and were
+very modest improvements adapted to their owner's somewhat flippant
+pursuit of agriculture. While Carrington was still staring about him,
+the cabin door swung open and a woman stepped forth. It was the girl
+Bess. She went to a corner of the building and called loudly:
+
+"Joe! Oh, Joe!"
+
+Carrington glanced in the direction of the keel boat and an instant
+later saw Slosson clamber over its side. The tavern-keeper crossed to
+the cabin, where he was met by Bess, who placed in his hands what
+seemed to be a wooden bowl. With this he slouched off to one of the
+outbuildings, which he entered. Ten or fifteen minutes slipped by,
+then he came from the shed and after securing the door, returned to
+the cabin. He was again met by Bess, who relieved him of the bowl; they
+exchanged a few words and Slosson walked away and afterward disappeared
+over the side of the keel boat.
+
+This much was clear to the Kentuckian: food had been taken to some one
+in the shed--to Betty and the boy!--more likely to George.
+
+He waited now for the night to come, and to him the sun seemed fixed in
+the heavens. At Belle Plain Tom Ware was watching it with a shuddering
+sense of the swiftness of its flight. But at last the tops of the tall
+trees obscured it; it sank quickly then and blazed a ball of fire beyond
+the Arkansas coast, while its dying glory spread aslant the heavens,
+turning the flanks of the gray clouds to violet and purple and gold.
+
+With the first approach of darkness Carrington made his way to the shed.
+Hidden in the shadow he paused to listen, and fancied he heard difficult
+breathing from within. The door creaked hideously on its wooden hinges
+when he pushed it open, but as it swung back the last remnant of the
+day's light showed him some dark object lying prone on the dirt floor.
+He reached down and his hand rested on a man's booted foot.
+
+"George--" Carrington spoke softly, but the man on the floor gave no
+sign that he heard, and Carrington's questioning touch stealing higher
+he found that George--if it were George--was lying on his side with his
+arms and legs securely bound. Thinking he slept, the Kentuckian shook
+him gently to arouse him.
+
+"George?" he repeated, still bending above him. This time an
+inarticulate murmur answered him. At the same instant the woolly head
+of the negro came under his fingers and he discovered the reason of his
+silence. He was as securely gagged as he was bound.
+
+"Listen, George--it's Carrington--I am going to take off this gag, but
+don't speak above a whisper--they may hear us!" And he cut the cords
+that held the gag in place.
+
+"How yo' get here, Mas'r Ca'ington?" asked the negro guardedly, as the
+gag fell away.
+
+"Around the head of the bayou."
+
+"Lawd!" exclaimed George, in a tone of wonder.
+
+"Where's Miss Betty?"
+
+"She's in the cabin yonder--fo' the love of God, cut these here
+other ropes with yo' knife, Mas'r Ca'ington--I'm perishin' with 'em!"
+Carrington did as he asked, and groaning, George sat erect. "I'm like I
+was gone to sleep all over," he said.
+
+"You'll feel better in a moment. Tell me about Miss Malroy?"
+
+"They done fetched us here last night. I was drivin' Missy into
+Raleigh--her and young Mas'r Hazard--when fo' men stop us in the road."
+
+"Who were they, do you know?" asked Carrington.
+
+"Lawd--what's that?"
+
+Carrington, knife in hand swung about on his heel. A lantern's light
+flashed suddenly in his face and Bess Hicks, with a low startled cry
+breaking from her lips, paused in the doorway. Springing forward,
+Carrington seized her by the wrist.
+
+"Hush!" he grimly warned.
+
+"What are you doin' here?" demanded the girl, as she endeavored to shake
+off his hand, but Carrington drew her into the shed, and closing the
+door, set his back against it. There was a brief silence during which
+Bess regarded the Kentuckian with a kind of stolid fearlessness. She was
+the first to speak. "I reckon you-all have come after Miss Malroy," she
+observed quietly.
+
+"Then you reckon right," answered Carrington. The girl studied him from
+beneath her level brows.
+
+"And you-all think you can take her away from here," she speculated. "I
+ain't afraid of yo' knife--you-all might use it fast enough on a
+man, but not on me. I'll help you," she added. Carrington gave her an
+incredulous glance. "You don't believe me? What's to hinder my calling
+for help? That would fetch our men up from the keel boat. No--yo'-all's
+knife wouldn't stop me!"
+
+"Don't be too sure of that," said Carrington sternly. The girl met the
+menace of his words with soft, fullthroated laughter.
+
+"Why, yo' hand's shakin' now, Mr. Carrington!"
+
+"You know me?"
+
+"Yes, I seen you once at Boggs'." She made an impatient movement. "You
+can't do nothing against them fo' men unless I help you. Miss Malroy's
+to go down river to-night; they're only waiting fo' a pilot--you-all's
+got to act quick!"
+
+Carrington hesitated.
+
+"Why do you want Miss Malroy to escape?" he said.
+
+The girl's mood changed abruptly. She scowled at him.
+
+"I reckon that's a private matter. Ain't it enough fo' you-all to know
+that I do? I'm showing how it can be done. Them four men on the keel
+boat are strangers in these parts, they're waiting fo' a pilot, but they
+don't know who he'll be. I've heard you-all was a riverman; what's to
+hinder yo' taking the pilot's place? Looks like yo' was willing to risk
+yo' life fo' Miss Malroy or you wouldn't be here."
+
+"I'm ready," said Carrington, his hand on the door.
+
+"No, you ain't--jest yet," interposed the girl hastily. "Listen to me
+first. They's a dugout tied up 'bout a hundred yards above the keel
+boat; you must get that to cross in to the other side of the bayou, then
+when yo're ready to come back yo're to whistle three times--it's the
+signal we're expecting--and I'll row across fo' you in one of the
+skiffs."
+
+"Can you see Miss Malroy in the meantime?"
+
+"If I want to, they's nothin' to hinder me," responded Bess sullenly.
+
+"Tell her then--" began Carrington, but Bess interrupted him.
+
+"I know what yo' want. She ain't to cry out or nothin' when she sees
+you-all. I got sense enough fo' that."
+
+Carrington looked at her curiously.
+
+"This may be a serious business for your people," he said significantly,
+and watched her narrowly.
+
+"And you-all may get killed. I reckin if yo' want to do a thing bad
+enough you don't mind much what comes after," she answered with a hard
+little laugh, as she went from the shed.
+
+"Come!" said Carrington to the negro, when he had seen the cabin door
+close on Bess and her lantern; and they stole across the clearing.
+Reaching the bayou side they began a noiseless search for the dugout,
+which they quickly found, and Carrington turned to George. "Can you
+swim?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, Mas'r."
+
+"Then go down into the water and drag the canoe farther along the
+shore--and for God's sake, no sound!" he cautioned.
+
+They placed a second hundred yards between themselves and the keel boat
+in this manner, then he had George bring the dug-out to the bank, and
+they embarked. Keeping within the shadow of the trees that fringed the
+shore, Carrington paddled silently about the head of the bayou.
+
+"George," he at length said, bending toward the negro; "my horse is tied
+in the woods on the right-hand side of the road just above where you
+were taken from the carriage last night--you can be at Belle Plain
+inside of an hour."
+
+"Look here, Mas'r Ca'ington, those folks yonder is kin to Boss Hicks. If
+he get his hand on me first don't you reckon he'll stop my mouth? I been
+here heaps of times fotchin' letters fo' Mas'r Tom," added George.
+
+"Who were the letters for?" asked the Kentuckian, greatly surprised.
+
+"They was fo' that Captain Murrell; seems like him and Mas'r Tom was
+mixed up in a sight of business."
+
+"When was this--recently?" inquired Carrington. He was turning this
+astonishing statement of the slave over in his mind.
+
+"Well, no, Mas'r; seems like they ain't so thick here recently."
+
+"I reckon you'd better keep away from the big house yet a while," said
+Carrington. "Instead of going there, stop at the Belle Plain landing.
+You'll find a raft tied up to the shore, it belongs to a man named
+Cavendish. Tell him what you know. That I've found Miss Malroy and the
+boy, tell him to cast off and drift down here. I'll run the keel boat
+aground the first chance I get, so tell him to keep a sharp lookout."
+
+A few minutes later they had separated, George to hurry away in search
+of the horse, and Carrington to pass back along the shore until he
+gained a point opposite the clearing. He whistled shrilly three times,
+and after an interval of waiting heard the splash of oars and presently
+saw a skiff steal out of the gloom.
+
+"Who's there?" It was Bess who asked the question.
+
+"Carrington," he answered.
+
+"Lucky you ain't met the other man!" she said as she swept her skiff
+alongside the bank.
+
+"Lucky for him, you mean. I'll take the oars," added Carrington as he
+entered the skiff.
+
+Slowly the clearing lifted out of the darkness, then the keel boat
+became distinguishable; and Carrington checked the skiff by a backward
+stroke of the oars.
+
+"Hello!" he called.
+
+There was no immediate answer to his hail, and he called again as he
+sent the skiff forward. He felt that he was risking all now.
+
+"What do you want?" asked a surly voice.
+
+"You want Slosson!" quickly prompted the girl in a whisper.
+
+"I want to see Slosson!" said Carrington glibly and with confidence, and
+once more he checked the skiff.
+
+"Who be you?"
+
+"Murrell sent you," prompted the girl again, in a hurried whisper.
+
+"Murrell--" And in his astonishment Carrington spoke aloud.
+
+"Murrell?" cried the voice sharply.
+
+"--sent me!" said Carrington quickly, as though completing an unfinished
+sentence. The girl laughed nervously under her breath.
+
+"Row closter!" came the sullen command, and the Kentuckian did as he was
+bidden. Four men stood in the bow of the keel boat, a lantern was
+raised aloft and by its light they looked him over. There was a moment's
+silence broken by Carrington, who asked:
+
+"Which one of you is Slosson?" And he sprang lightly aboard the keel
+boat.
+
+"I'm Slosson," answered the man with the lantern. The previous night Mr.
+Slosson had been somewhat under the enlivening and elevating influence
+of corn whisky, but now he was his own cheerless self, and rather
+jaded by the passing of the hours which he had sacrificed to an irksome
+responsibility. "What word do you fetch from the Captain, brother?" he
+demanded.
+
+"Miss Malroy is to be taken down river," responded Carrington. Slosson
+swore with surpassing fluency.
+
+"Say, we're five able-bodied men risking our necks to oblige him!
+You can get married a damn sight easier than this if you go about it
+right--I've done it lots of times." Not understanding the significance
+of Slosson's allusion to his own matrimonial career, Carrington held his
+peace. The tavern-beeper swore again with unimpaired vigor. "You'll find
+mighty few men with more experience than me," he asserted, shaking his
+head. "But if you say the word--"
+
+"I'm all for getting shut of this!" answered Carrington promptly, with
+a sweep of his arm. "I call these pretty close quarters!" Still shaking
+his head and muttering, the tavernkeeper sprang ashore and mounted the
+bank, where his slouching figure quickly lost itself in the night.
+
+Carrington took up his station on the flat roof of the cabin which
+filled the stern of the boat. He was remembering that day in the sandy
+Barony road--and during all the weeks and months that had intervened,
+Murrell, working in secret, had moved steadily toward the fulfilment of
+his desires! Unquestionably he had been back of the attack on Norton,
+had inspired his subsequent murder, and the man's sinister and
+mysterious power had never been suspected. Carrington knew that the
+horse-thieves and slave stealers were supposed to maintain a loosely
+knit association; he wondered if Murrell were not the moving spirit in
+some such organization.
+
+"If I'd only pushed my quarrel with him!" he thought bitterly.
+
+He heard Slosson's shuffling step in the distance, a word or two when
+he spoke gruffly to some one, and a moment later he saw Betty and the boy,
+their forms darkly silhouetted against the lighter sky as they moved
+along the top of the bank. Slosson, without any superfluous gallantry,
+helped his captives down the slope and aboard the keel boat, where he
+locked them in the cabin, the door of which fastened with a hasp and
+wooden peg.
+
+"You're boss now, pardner!" he said, joining Carrington at the steering
+oar.
+
+"We'll cast off then," answered Carrington.
+
+Thus far nothing had occurred to mar his plans. If they could but quit
+the bayou before the arrival of the man whose place he had taken, the
+rest would be if not easy of accomplishment, at least within the realm
+of the possible.
+
+"I reckon you're a river-man?" observed Slosson.
+
+"All my life."
+
+The line had been cast off, and the crew with their setting poles were
+forcing the boat away from the bank. All was quietly done; except for
+an occasional order from Carrington no word was spoken, and soon the
+unwieldy craft glided into the sluggish current and gathered way. Mr.
+Slosson, who clearly regarded his relation to the adventure as being of
+an official character, continued to stand at Carrington's elbow.
+
+"What have we, between here and the river?" inquired the latter. It was
+best, he felt, not to give Slosson an opportunity to ask questions.
+
+"It narrows considerably, pardner, but it's a straight course," said
+Slosson. "Black in yonder, ain't it?" he added, nodding ahead.
+
+The shores drew rapidly together; they were leaving the lakelike expanse
+behind. In the silence, above the rustling of the trees, Carrington
+heard the first fret of 'the river against its bank. Slosson yawned
+prodigiously.
+
+"I reckon you ain't needing me?" he said.
+
+"Better go up in the bow and get some sleep," advised Carrington, and
+Slosson, nothing loath, clambered down from the roof of the cabin and
+stumbled forward.
+
+The ceaseless murmur of the rushing waters grew in the stillness as the
+keel boat drew nearer the hurrying yellow flood, and the beat of the
+Kentuckian's pulse quickened. Would he find the raft there? He glanced
+back over the way they had come. The dark ranks of the forest walled off
+the clearing, but across the water a dim point of light was visible. He
+fixed its position as somewhere near the head of the bayou. Apparently
+it was a lantern, but as he looked a ruddy glow crept up against the
+sky-line.
+
+From the bow Bunker had been observing this singular phenomenon.
+Suddenly he bent and roused Slosson, who had fallen asleep. The
+tavern-keeper sprang to his feet and Bunker pointed without speaking.
+
+"Mebby you can tell me what that light back yonder means?" cried
+Slosson, addressing himself to Carrington; as he spoke he snatched up
+his rifle.
+
+"That's what I'm trying to make out," answered Carrington.
+
+"Hell!" cried Slosson, and tossed his gun to his shoulder.
+
+What seemed to be a breath of wind lifted a stray lock of Carrington's
+hair, but his pistol answered Slosson in the same second. He fired at
+the huddle of men in the bow of the boat and one of them pitched forward
+with his arms outspread.
+
+"Keep back, you!" he said, and dropped off the cabin roof.
+
+His promptness had bred a momentary panic, then Slosson's bull-like
+voice began to roar commands; but in that brief instant of surprise and
+shock Carrington had found and withdrawn the wooden peg that fastened
+the cabin door. He had scarcely done this when Slosson came tramping aft
+supported by the three men.
+
+Calling to Betty and Hannibal to escape in the skiff which was towing
+astern the Kentuckian rushed toward the bow. At his back he heard the
+door creak on its hinges as it was pushed open by Betty and the boy, and
+again he called to them to escape by the skiff. The fret of the current
+had grown steadily and from beneath the wide-flung branches of the
+trees which here met above his head, Carrington caught sight of the
+starspecked arch of the heavens beyond. They were issuing from the
+bayou. He felt the river snatch at the keel boat, the buffeting of some
+swift eddy, and saw the blunt bow swing off to the south as they were
+plunged into the black shore shadows.
+
+But what he did not see was a big muscular hand which had thrust itself
+out of the impenetrable gloom and clutched the side of the keel boat.
+Coincident with this there arose a perfect babel of voices, high-pitched
+and shrill.
+
+"Sho--I bet it's him! Sho'--it's Uncle Bob's nevvy! Sho', you can hear
+'em! Sho', they're shootin' guns! Sho'!"
+
+Carrington cast a hurried glance in the direction of these sounds. There
+between the boat and the shore the dim outline of a raft was taking
+shape. It was now canopied by a wealth of pale gray smoke that faded
+from before his eyes as the darkness lifted. Turning, he saw Slosson and
+his men clearly. Surprise and consternation was depicted on each face.
+
+The light increased. From the flat stone hearth of the raft ascended
+a tall column of flame which rendered visible six pygmy figures,
+tow-headed and wonderfully vocal, who were toiling like mad at the huge
+sweeps. The light showed more than this. It showed a lady of plump and
+pleasing presence smoking a cobpipe while she fed the fire from a tick
+stuffed with straw. It showed two bark shanties, a line between them
+decorated with the never-ending Cavendish wash. It showed a rooster
+perched on the ridge-pole of one of these shanties in the very act of
+crowing lustily.
+
+Hannibal, who had climbed to the roof of the cabin, shrieked for help,
+and Betty added her voice to his.
+
+"All right, Nevvy!" came the cheerful reply, as Yancy threw himself over
+the side of the boat and grappled with Slosson.
+
+"Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!" cried Hannibal.
+
+Slosson uttered a cry of terror. He had a simple but sincere faith in
+the supernatural, and even with the Scratch Hiller's big hands gripping
+his throat, he could not rid himself of the belief that this was the
+ghost of a murdered man.
+
+"You'll take a dog's licking from me, neighbor?" said Yancy grimly. "I
+been saving it fo' you!"
+
+Meanwhile Mr. Cavendish, whose proud spirit never greatly inclined him
+to the practice of peace, had prepared for battle; Springing aloft he
+knocked his heels together.
+
+"Whoop! I'm a man as can slide down a thorny locust and never get
+scratched!" he shouted. This was equivalent to setting his triggers;
+then he launched himself nimbly and with enthusiasm into the thick of
+the fight. It was Mr. Bunker's unfortunate privilege to sustain the
+onslaught of the Earl of Lambeth.
+
+The light from the Cavendish hearth continued to brighten the scene,
+for Polly was recklessly sacrificing her best straw tick. Indeed her
+behavior was in every way worthy of the noble alliance she had formed.
+Her cob-pipe was not suffered to go out and with Connie's help she kept
+the six small Cavendishes from risking life and limb in the keel boat,
+toward which they were powerfully drawn. Despite these activities she
+found time to call to Betty and Hannibal on the cabin roof.
+
+"Jump down here; that ain't no fittin' place for you-all to stop in with
+them gentlemen fightin'!"
+
+An instant later Betty and Hannibal stood on the raft with the little
+Cavendishes flocking about them. Mr. Yancy's quest of his nevvy
+had taken an enduring hold on their imagination. For weeks it had
+constituted their one vital topic, and the fight became merely a
+satisfying background for this interesting restoration.
+
+"Sho', they'd got him! Sho'--he wa'n't no bigger than Richard! Sho'!"
+
+"Oh!" cried Betty, with a fearful glance toward the keel boat. "Can't
+you stop them?"
+
+"What fo'?" asked Polly, opening her black eyes very wide.
+
+"Bless yo' tender heart!-you don't need to worry none, we got them
+strange gentlemen licked like they was a passel of children! Connie,
+you-all mind that fire!"
+
+She accurately judged the outcome of the fight. The boat was little
+better than a shambles with the havoc that had been wrought there
+when Yancy and Carrington dropped over its side to the raft. Cavendish
+followed them, whooping his triumph as he came.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. THE RAFT AGAIN
+
+
+Yancy and Cavendish threw themselves on the sweeps and worked the raft
+clear of the keel boat, then the turbulent current seized the smaller
+craft and whirled it away into the night; as its black bulk receded from
+before his eyes the Earl of Lambeth spoke with the voice of authority
+and experience.
+
+"It was a good fight and them fellows done well, but not near well
+enough." A conclusion that could not be gainsaid. He added, "No one
+ain't hurt but them that had ought to have got hurt. Mr. Yancy's all
+right, and so's Mr. Carrington--who's mighty welcome here." The earl's
+shock of red hair was bristling like the mane of some angry animal
+and his eyes still flashed with the light of battle, but he managed to
+summon up an expression of winning friendliness.
+
+"Mr. Carrington's kin to me, Polly," explained Yancy to Mrs. Cavendish.
+His voice was far from steady, for Hannibal had been gathered into
+his arms and had all but wrecked the stoic calm with which the Scratch
+Hiller was seeking to guard his emotions.
+
+Polly smiled and dimpled at the Kentuckian. Trained to a romantic point
+of view she had a frank liking for handsome stalwart men. Cavendish was
+neither, but none knew better than Polly that where he was most lacking
+in appearance he was richest in substance. He carried scars honorably
+earned in those differences he had been prone to cultivate with less
+generous natures; for his scheme of life did not embrace the millennium.
+
+"Thank God, you got here when you did!" said Carrington.
+
+"We was some pushed fo' time, but we done it," responded the earl
+modestly. He added, "What now?--do we make a landing?"
+
+"No--unless it interferes with your plans not to. I 'want to get around
+the next bend before we tie up. Later we'll all go back. Can I count on
+you?"
+
+"You shorely can. I consider this here as sociable a neighborhood as I
+ever struck. It pleases me well. Folks are up and doing hereabout."
+
+Carrington looked eagerly around in search of Betty. She was sitting
+on an upturned tub, a pathetic enough figure as she drooped against the
+wall of one of the shanties with all her courage quite gone from her. He
+made his way quickly to her side.
+
+"La!" whispered Polly in Chills and Fever's ear. "If that pore young
+thing yonder keeps a widow it won't be because of any encouragement she
+gets from Mr. Carrington. If I ever seen marriage in a man's eye I seen
+it in his this minute!"
+
+"Bruce!" cried Betty, starting up as Carrington approached. "Oh, Bruce,
+I am so glad you have come--you are not hurt?" She accepted his presence
+without question. She had needed him and he had not failed her.
+
+"We are none of us hurt, Betty," he said gently, as he took her hand.
+
+He saw that the suffering she had undergone during the preceding
+twenty-four hours had left its record on her tired face and in her heavy
+eyes. She retained a shuddering consciousness of the unchecked savagery
+of those last moments on the keel boat; she was still hearing the oaths
+of the men as they struggled together, the sound of blows, and the
+dreadful silences that had followed them. She turned from him, and there
+came the relief of tears.
+
+"There, Betty, the danger is over now and you were so brave while it
+lasted. I can't bear to have you cry!"
+
+"I was wild with fear--all that time on the boat, Bruce--" she faltered
+between her sobs. "I didn't know but they would find you out. I could
+only wait and hope--and pray!"
+
+"I was in no danger, dear. Didn't the girl tell you I was to take the
+place of a man Slosson was expecting? He never doubted that I was that
+man until a light--a signal it must have been--on the shore at the head
+of the bayou betrayed me."
+
+"Where are we going now, Bruce? Not the way they went--" and Betty
+glanced out into the black void where the keel boat had merged into the
+gloom.
+
+"No, no--but we can't get the raft back up-stream against the current,
+so the best thing is to land at the Bates' plantation below here; then
+as soon as you are able we can return to Belle Plain," said Carrington.
+
+There was an interval broken only by the occasional sweep of the great
+steering oar as Cavendish coaxed the raft out toward the channel. The
+thought of Charley Norton's murder rested on Carrington like a pall.
+Scarcely a week had elapsed since he quitted Thicket Point and in that
+week the hand of death had dealt with them impartially, and to what
+end? Then the miles he had traversed in his hopeless journey up-river
+translated themselves into a division of time as well as space. They
+were just so much further removed from the past with its blight of
+tragic terror. He turned and glanced at Betty. He saw that her eyes
+held their steady look of wistful pity that was for the dead man; yet in
+spite of this, and in spite of the bounds beyond which he would not
+let his imagination carry him, the future enriched with sudden promise
+unfolded itself. The deep sense of recovered hope stirred within him. He
+knew there must come a day when he would dare to speak of his love, and
+she would listen.
+
+"It's best we should land at Bates' place--we can get teams there," he
+went on to explain. "And, Betty, wherever we go we'll go together, dear.
+Cavendish doesn't look as if he had any very urgent business of his own,
+and I reckon the same is true of Yancy, so I am going to keep them
+with us. There are some points to be cleared up when we reach Belle
+Plain--some folks who'll have a lot to explain or else quit this part of
+the state! And I intend to see that you are not left alone until--until
+I have the right to take care of you for good and all--that's what
+you want me to do one of these days, isn't it, darling?" and his eyes,
+glowing and infinitely tender, dwelt on her upturned face.
+
+But Betty shrank from him in involuntary agitation.
+
+"Oh, not now, Bruce--not now--we mustn't speak of that--it's wrong--it's
+wicked--you mustn't make me forget him!" she cried brokenly, in protest.
+
+"Forgive me, Betty, I'll not speak of it again," he said.
+
+"Wait, Bruce, and some time--Oh, don't make me say it," she gasped, "or
+I shall hate myself!" for in his presence she was feeling the horror
+of her past experience grow strangely remote, only the dull ache of
+her memories remained, and to these she clung. They were silent for a
+moment, then Carrington said:
+
+"After I'm sure you'll be safe here perhaps I'll go south into the
+Choctaw Purchase. I've been thinking of that recently; but I'll find my
+way back here--don't misunderstand me--I'll not come too soon for even
+you, Betty. I loved Norton. He was one of my best friends, too," he
+continued gently. "But you know--and I know--dear, the day will come
+when no matter where you are I shall find you again--find you and not
+lose you!"
+
+Betty made no answer in words, but a soft and eloquent little hand was
+slipped into his and allowed to rest there.
+
+Presently a light wind stirred the dead dense atmosphere, the mist
+lifted and enveloped the shore, showing them the river between piled-up
+masses of vapor. Apparently it ran for their raft alone. It was just
+twenty-four hours since Carrington had looked upon such another night
+but this was a different world the gray fog was unmasking--a world of
+hopes, and dreams, and rich content. Then the thought of Norton--poor
+Norton who had had his world, too, of hopes and dreams and rich
+content--
+
+The calm of a highly domestic existence had resumed its interrupted sway
+on the raft. Mr. Cavendish, associated in Betty's memory with certain
+earsplitting manifestations of ferocious rage, became in the bosom of
+his family low-voiced and genial and hopelessly impotent to deal with
+his five small sons; while Yancy was again the Bob Yancy of Scratch
+Hill, violence of any sort apparently had no place in his nature. He was
+deeply absorbed in Hannibal's account of those vicissitudes which had
+befallen him during their separation. They were now seated before a
+cheerful fire that blazed on the hearth, the boy very close to Yancy
+with one hand clasped in the Scratch Hiller's, while about them were
+ranged the six small Cavendishes sedately sharing in the reunion of
+uncle and nevvy, toward which they felt they had honorably labored.
+
+"And you wa'n't dead, Uncle Bob?" said Hannibal with a deep breath,
+viewing Yancy unmistakably in the flesh.
+
+"Never once. I been floating peacefully along with these here titled
+friends of mine; but I was some anxious about you, son."
+
+"And Mr. Slosson, Uncle Bob--did you smack him like you smacked Dave
+Blount that day when he tried to steal me?" asked Hannibal, whose
+childish sense of justice demanded reparation for the wrongs they had
+suffered.
+
+Mr. Yancy extended a big right hand, the knuckle of which was skinned
+and bruised.
+
+"He were the meanest man I ever felt obliged fo' to hit with my fist,
+Nevvy; it appeared like he had teeth all over his face."
+
+"Sho--where's his hide, Uncle Bob?" cried the little Cavendishes in
+an excited chorus. "Sho--did you forget that?" They themselves had
+forgotten the unique enterprise to which Mr. Yancy was committed, but
+the allusion to Slosson had revived their memory of it.
+
+"Well, he begged so piteous to be allowed fo' to keep his hide, I hadn't
+the heart to strip it off," explained Mr. Yancy pleasantly. "And the
+winter's comin' onat this moment I can feel a chill in the air--don't
+you-all reckon he's goin' to need it fo' to keep the cold out,' Sho',
+you mustn't be bloody-minded!"
+
+"What was it about Mr. Slosson's hide, Uncle Bob?" demanded Hannibal.
+"What was you a-goin' to do to that?"
+
+"Why, Nevvy, after he beat me up and throwed me in the river, I was some
+peevish fo' a spell in my feelings fo' him," said Yancy, in a tone of
+gentle regret. He glanced at his bruised hand. "But I'm right pleased
+to be able to say that I've got over all them oncharitable thoughts of
+mine."
+
+"And you seen the judge, Uncle Bob?" questioned Hannibal.
+
+"Yes, I've seen the judge. We was together fo' part of a day. Me and him
+gets on fine."
+
+"Where is he now, Uncle Bob?"
+
+"I reckon he's back at Belle Plain by this time. You see we left him
+in Raleigh along after noon to 'tend to some business he had on hand. I
+never seen a gentleman of his weight so truly spry on his legs--and all
+about you, Nevvy; while as to mind! Sho--why, words flowed out of him as
+naturally as water out of a branch."
+
+Of Hannibal's relationship to the judge he said nothing. He felt that
+was a secret to be revealed by the judge himself when he should see fit.
+
+"Uncle Bob, who'm I going to live with now?" questioned Hannibal
+anxiously.
+
+"That p'int's already come up, Nevvy--him and me's decided that there
+won't be no friction. You-all will just go on living with him."
+
+"But what about you, Uncle Bob?" cried Hannibal, lifting a wistful
+little face to Yancy's.
+
+"Oh, me?--well, you-all will go right on living with me."
+
+"And what will come of Mr. Mahaffy?"
+
+"I reckon you-all will go right on living with him, too."
+
+"Uncle Bob, you mean you reckon we are all going to live in one house?"
+
+"I 'low it will have to be fixed that-a-ways," agreed Yancy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. THE JUDGE RECEIVES A LETTER
+
+
+After he had parted with Solomon Mahaffy the judge applied himself
+diligently to shaping that miracle-working document which he was
+preparing as an offset to whatever risk he ran in meeting Fentress. As
+sanguine as he was sanguinary he confidently expected to survive the
+encounter, yet it was well to provide for a possible emergency--had he
+not his grandson's future to consider? While thus occupied he saw the
+afternoon stage arrive and depart from before the City Tavern.
+
+Half an hour later Mr. Wesley, the postmaster, came sauntering up the
+street. In his hand he carried a letter.
+
+"Howdy," he drawled, from just beyond the judge's open door.
+
+The judge glanced up, his quill pen poised aloft.
+
+"Good evening, sir; won't you step inside and be seated?" he asked
+graciously. His dealings with the United States mail service were of the
+most insignificant description, and in personally delivering a letter,
+if this was what had brought him there, he felt Mr. Wesley had reached
+the limit of official courtesy and despatch.
+
+"Well, sir; it looks like you'd never told us more than two-thirds of
+the truth!" said the postmaster. He surveyed the judge curiously.
+
+"I am complimented by your opinion of my veracity," responded that
+gentleman promptly. "I consider two-thirds an enormously high per cent
+to have achieved."
+
+"There is something in that, too," agreed Mr. Wesley. "Who is Colonel
+Slocum Price Turberville?"
+
+The judge started up from his chair.
+
+"I have that honor," said he, bowing.
+
+"Well, here's a letter come in addressed like that, and as you've been
+using part of the name I am willing to assume you're legally entitled
+to the rest of it. It clears up a point that off and on has troubled me
+considerable. I can only wonder I wa'n't smarter."
+
+"What point, may I ask?"
+
+"Why, about the time you hung out your shingle here, some one wrote a
+letter to General Jackson. It was mailed after night, and when I seen it
+in the morning I was clean beat. I couldn't locate the handwriting and
+yet I kept that letter back a couple of days and give it all my spare
+time. It ain't that I'm one of your spying sort--there's nothing of the
+Yankee about me!"
+
+"Certainly not," agreed the judge.
+
+"Candid, Judge, I reckon you wrote that letter, seeing this one comes
+under a frank from Washington. No, sir--I couldn't make out who was
+corresponding with the president and it worried me, not knowing, more
+than anything I've had to contend against since I came into office. I
+calculate there ain't a postmaster in the United States takes a more
+personal interest in the service than me. I've frequently set patrons
+right when they was in doubt as to the date they had mailed such and
+such a letter." As Mr. Wesley sometimes canceled as many as three or
+four stamps in a single day he might have been pardoned his pride in a
+brain which thus lightly dealt with the burden of official business. He
+surrendered the letter with marked reluctance.
+
+"Your surmise is correct," said the judge with dignity. "I had occasion
+to write my friend, General Jackson, and unless I am greatly mistaken I
+have my answer here." And with a fine air of indifference he tossed the
+letter on the table.
+
+"And do you know Old Hickory?" cried Mr. Wesley.
+
+"Why not? Does it surprise you?" inquired the judge. It was only his
+innate courtesy which restrained him from kicking the postmaster into
+the street, so intense was his desire to be rid of him.
+
+"No, I don't know as it does, judge. Naturally a public man like him is
+in the way of meeting with all sorts. A politician can't afford to be
+too blame particular. Well, next time you write you might just send
+him my regards--G. W. M. de L. Wesley's regards--there was considerable
+contention over my getting this office; I reckon he ain't forgot. There
+was speeches made, I understand the lie was passed between two United
+States senators, and that a quid of tobacco was throwed in anger."
+Having thus clearly established the fact that he was a more or less
+national character, Mr. Wesley took himself off.
+
+When he had disappeared from sight down the street, the judge closed the
+door. Then he picked up the letter. For along minute he held it in his
+hand, uncertain, fearful, while his mind slipped back into the past
+until his inward searching vision ferreted out a handsome soldierly
+figure--his own.
+
+"That's what Jackson remembers if he remembers anything!" he muttered,
+as with trembling fingers he broke the seal. Almost instantly a smile
+overspread his battered features. He hitched his chin higher and squared
+his ponderous shoulders. "I am not forgotten--no, damn it--no!" he
+exulted under his breath, "recalls me with sincere esteem and considers
+my services to the country as well worthy of recognition--" the judge
+breathed deep. What would Mahaffy find to say now! Certainly this was
+well calculated to disturb the sour cynicism of his friend. His bleared
+eyes brimmed. After all his groping he had touched hands with the
+realities at last! Even a federal judgeship, though not an office of the
+first repute in the south had its dignity--it signified something! He
+would make Solomon his clerk! The judge reached for his hat. Mahaffy
+must know at once that fortune had mended for them. Why, at that moment
+he was actually in receipt of an income!
+
+He sat down, the better to enjoy the unique sensation. Taxes were being
+levied and collected with no other end in view than his stipend--his
+ardent fancy saw the whole machinery of government in operation for his
+benefit. It was a singular feeling he experienced. Then promptly his
+spendthrift brain became active. He needed clothes--so did Mahaffy--so
+did his grandson; they must take a larger house; he would buy himself a
+man servant; these were pressing necessities as he now viewed them.
+
+Once again he reached for his hat, the desire to rush off to Belle Plain
+was overmastering.
+
+"I reckon I'd be justified in hiring a conveyance from Pegloe," he
+thought, but just here he had a saving memory of his unfinished task;
+that claimed precedence and he resumed his pen.
+
+An hour later Pegloe's black boy presented himself to the judge. He
+came bearing a gift, and the gift appropriately enough was a square
+case bottle of respectable size. The judge was greatly touched by
+this attention, but he began by making a most temperate use of the
+tavern-keeper's offering; then as the formidable document he was
+preparing took shape under his hand he more and more lost that feeling
+of Spartan fortitude which had at first sustained him in the presence of
+temptation. He wrote and sipped in complete and quiet luxury, and when
+at last he had exhausted the contents of the bottle it occurred to him
+that it would be only proper personally to convey his thanks to Pegloe.
+Perhaps he was not uninspired in this by ulterior hopes; if so, they
+were richly rewarded. The resources of the City Tavern were suddenly
+placed at his disposal. He attributed this to a variety of causes all
+good and sufficient, but the real reason never suggested itself,
+indeed it was of such a perfidious nature that the judge, open and
+generous-minded, could not have grasped it.
+
+By six o'clock he was undeniably drunk; at eight he was sounding
+still deeper depths of inebriety with only the most confused memory of
+impending events; at ten he collapsed and was borne up-stairs by Pegloe
+and his black boy to a remote chamber in the kitchen wing. Here he was
+undressed and put to bed, and the tavernkeeper, making a bundle of his
+clothes, retired from the room, locking the door after him, and the
+judge was doubly a prisoner.
+
+Rousing at last from a heavy dreamless sleep the judge was aware of a
+faint impalpable light in his room, the ashen light of a dull October
+dawn. He was aware, too, of a feeling of profound depression. He knew
+this was the aftermath of indulgence and that he might look forward
+to forty-eight hours of utter misery of soul, and, groaning aloud, he
+closed his eyes, Sleep was the thing if he could compass it. Instead,
+his memory quickened. Something was to happen at sunup--he could not
+recall what it was to be, though he distinctly remembered that Mahaffy
+had spoken of this very matter--Mahaffy, the austere and implacable, the
+disembodied conscience whose fealty to duty had somehow survived his own
+spiritual ruin, so that he had become a sort of moral sign-post, ever
+pointing the way yet never going it himself. The judge lay still and
+thought deeply as the light intensified itself. What was it that Mahaffy
+had said he was to do at sun-up? The very hour accented his suspicions.
+Probably it was no more than some cheerless obligation to be met, or
+Mahaffy would not have been so concerned about it. Eventually he decided
+to refer everything to Mahaffy. He spoke his friend's name weakly and in
+a shaking voice, but received no answer.
+
+"Solomon!" he repeated, and shifting his position, looked in what should
+have been the direction of the shake-down bed his friend occupied.
+Neither the bed nor Mahaffy were there. The judge gasped he wondered if
+this were not a premonition of certain hallucinations to which he was
+not a stranger. Then all in a flash he remembered Fentress and the
+meeting at Boggs', something of how the evening had been spent, and a
+spasm of regret shook him.
+
+"I had other things to think of. This must never happen again!" he told
+himself remorsefully.
+
+He was wide-awake now. Doubtless Pegloe had put him to bed. Well, that
+had been thoughtful of Pegloe--he would not forget him--the City Tavern
+should continue to enjoy his patronage. It would be something for Pegloe
+to boast of that judge Slocum Price Turberville always made his place
+headquarters when in Raleigh. Feeling that he had already conferred
+wealth and distinction on the fortunate Pegloe the judge thrust his fat
+legs over the side of his bed and stood erect. Stooping he reached for
+his clothes. He confidently expected to find them on the floor, but
+his hand merely swept an uncarpeted waste. The judge was profoundly
+astonished.
+
+"Maybe I've got 'em on, I don't recall taking them off!" he thought
+hopefully. He moved uncertainly in the direction of the window where the
+light showed him his own bare extremities. He reverted to his original
+idea that his clothes were scattered about the floor.
+
+He was beginning to experience a great sense of haste, it was two miles
+to Boggs' and Fentress would be there at sun-up. Finally he abandoned
+his quest of the missing garments and turned to the door. To say that
+he was amazed when he found it locked would have most inadequately
+described his emotions. Breathing deep, he fell back a step or two, and
+then with all the vigor he could muster launched himself at the door.
+But it resisted him. "It's bolted on the other side!" he muttered, the
+full measure of Pegloe's perfidy revealing itself to his mind.
+
+He was aghast. It was a plot to discredit him. Pegloe's hospitality had
+been inspired by his enemy, for Pegloe was Fentress' tenant.
+
+Again he attacked the door; he believed it might be possible to force it
+from its hinges, but Pegloe had done his work too well for that, and at
+last, spent and breathless, the judge dropped down on the edge of his
+bed to consider the situation. He was without clothes and he was a
+prisoner, yet his mind rose splendidly to meet the difficulties that
+beset him. His greatest activities were reserved for what appeared to be
+only a season of despair. He armed himself with a threelegged stool he
+had found and turned once more to the door, but the stout planks stood
+firm under his blows.
+
+"Unless I get out of here in time I'm a ruined man!" thought the judge.
+"After this Fentress will refuse to meet me!"
+
+The window next engaged his attention. That, too, Pegloe had taken the
+precaution to fasten, but a single savage blow of the stool shattered
+glass and sash and left an empty space that framed the dawn's red glow.
+The judge looked out and shook his head dubiously. It was twelve feet or
+more to the ground, a risky drop for a gentleman of his years and build.
+The judge considered making a rope of his bedding and lowering himself
+to the ground by means of it, he remembered to have read of captives in
+that interesting French prison, the Bastille, who did this. However, an
+equally ingenious but much more simple use for his bedding occurred to
+him; it would form a soft and yielding substance on which to alight.
+He gathered it up into his arms, feather-tick and all, and pushed it
+through the window, then he wriggled out across the ledge, feet first,
+and lowering himself to the full length of his arms, dropped.
+
+He landed squarely on the rolled-up bed with a jar that shook him to his
+center. Almost gaily he snatched up a quilt, draping it about him after
+the manner of a Roman, toga, and thus lightly habited, started across
+Mr. Pegloe's truck-patch, his one thought Boggs' and the sun. It would
+have served no purpose to have gone home, since his entire wardrobe,
+except for the shirt on his back, was in the tavern-keeper's possession,
+besides he had not a moment to lose, for the sun was peeping at him over
+the horizon.
+
+Unobserved he gained the edge of the town and the highroad that led past
+Boggs' and stole a fearful glance over his shoulder. The sun was clear
+of the treetops, he could even feel the lifeless dust grow warm beneath
+his feet; and wrapping the quilt closer about him he broke into a
+labored run.
+
+Some twenty minutes later Boggs' came in sight. He experienced a moment
+of doubt--suppose Fentress had been there and gone! It was a hideous
+thought and the judge groaned. Then at the other end of the meadow near
+the woods he distinguished several men, Fentress and his friends beyond
+question. The judge laughed aloud. In spite of everything he was keeping
+his engagement, he was plucking his triumph out of the very dregs of
+failure. The judge threw himself over the fence, a corner of the quilt
+caught on one of the rails; he turned to release it, and in that instant
+two pistol shots rang out sharply in the morning air.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. THE DUEL
+
+
+It had been with no little reluctance that Solomon Mahaffy accompanied
+Yancy and Cavendish to Belle Plain; he would have preferred to remain in
+Raleigh in attendance upon judge Price. Intimately acquainted with the
+judge's mental processes, he could follow all the devious workings of
+that magnificent mind; he could fathom the simply hellish ingenuity
+he was capable of putting forth to accomplish temporary benefits.
+Permitting his thoughts to dwell upon the mingled strength and weakness
+which was so curiously blended in Slocum Price's character, he had
+horrid visions of that great soul, freed from the trammels of restraint,
+confiding his melancholy history to Mr. Pegloe in the hope of bolstering
+his fallen credit at the City Tavern.
+
+Always where the judge was concerned he fluctuated between extremes of
+doubt and confidence. He felt that under the urgent spur of occasion
+his friend could rise to any emergency, while a sustained activity made
+demands which he could not satisfy; then his efforts were discounted by
+his insane desire to realize at once on his opportunities; in his haste
+he was for ever plucking unripe fruit; and though he might keep one eye
+on the main chance the other was fixed just as resolutely on the nearest
+tavern.
+
+With the great stake which fate had suddenly introduced into their
+losing game, he wished earnestly to believe that the judge would stay
+quietly in his office and complete the task he had set himself; that
+with this off his hands the promise of excitement at Belle Plain
+would compel his presence there, when he would pass somewhat under the
+restraining influence which he was determined to exert; in short, to
+Solomon, life embraced just the one vital consideration, which was to
+maintain the judge in a state of sobriety until after his meeting with
+Fentress.
+
+The purple of twilight was stealing over the land when he and his two
+companions reached Belle Plain. They learned that Tom Ware had returned
+from Memphis, that the bayou had been dragged but without results, and
+that as yet nothing had been heard from Carrington or the dogs he had
+gone for.
+
+Presently Cavendish and Yancy set off across the fields. They were going
+on to the raft, to Polly and the six little Cavendishes, whom they had
+not seen since early morning; but they promised to be back at Belle
+Plain within an hour.
+
+By very nature an alien, Mahaffy sought out a dark corner on the wide
+porch that overlooked the river to await their return. The house had
+been thrown open, and supper was being served to whoever cared to stay
+and partake of it. The murmur of idle purposeless talk drifted out to
+him; he was irritated and offended by it. There was something garish
+in this indiscriminate hospitality in the very home of tragedy. As the
+moments slipped by his sense of displeasure increased, with mankind
+in general, with himself, and with the judge--principally with the
+judge--who was to make a foolish target of himself in the morning. He
+was going to give the man who had wrecked his life a chance to take
+it as well. Mahaffy's cold logic dealt cynically with the preposterous
+situation his friend had created.
+
+In the midst of his angry meditations he heard a clock strike in the
+hall and counted the strokes. It was nine o'clock. Surely Yancy and
+Cavendish had been gone their hour! He quitted his seat and strolled
+restlessly about the house. He felt deeply indignant with everybody and
+everything. Human intelligence seemed but a pitiable advance on brute
+instinct. A whole day had passed and what had been accomplished?
+Carrington, the judge, Yancy, Cavendish--the four men who might have
+worked together to some purpose had widely separated themselves; and
+here was the duel, the very climax of absurdity. He resumed his dark
+corner and waited another hour. Still no Carrington, and Yancy and
+Cavendish had not come up from the raft.
+
+"Fools!" thought Mahaffy bitterly. "All of them fools!"
+
+At last he decided to go back to the judge; and a moment later was
+hurrying down the lane in the direction of the highroad, but, jaded
+as he was by the effort he had already put forth that day, the walk
+to Raleigh made tremendous demands on him, and it was midnight when he
+entered the little town.
+
+It can not be said that he was altogether surprised when he found
+their cottage dark and apparently deserted. He had half expected
+this. Entering, and not stopping to secure a candle, he groped his way
+up-stairs to the room on the second floor which he and the judge shared.
+
+"Price!" he called, but this gained him no response, and he cursed
+softly under his breath.
+
+He hastily descended to the kitchen, lighted a candle, and stepped into
+the adjoining room. On the table was a neat pile of papers, and
+topping the pile was the president's letter. Being burdened by no
+false scruples, and thinking it might afford some clue to the judge's
+whereabouts, Mahaffy took it up and read it. Having mastered its
+contents he instantly glanced in the direction of the City Tavern, but
+it was wrapped in darkness.
+
+"Price is drunk somewhere," was his definite conclusion. "But he'll be
+at Boggs' the first thing in the morning--most likely so far gone he
+can hardly stand!" The letter, with its striking news, made little or no
+impression on him just then; it merely furnished the clue he had sought.
+The judge was off somewhere marketing his prospects.
+
+After a time Mahaffy went up-stairs, and, without removing his clothes,
+threw himself on the bed. He was worn down to the point of exhaustion,
+yet he could not sleep, though the deep silence warned him that day was
+not far off. What if--but he would not let the thought shape itself in
+his mind. He had witnessed the judge's skill with the pistol, and he had
+even a certain irrational faith in that gentleman's destiny. He prayed
+God that Fentress might die quickly and decently with the judge's bullet
+through his brain. Over and over in savage supplication he muttered his
+prayer that Fentress might die.
+
+He began to watch for the coming of the dawn, but before the darkness
+lifted he had risen from the bed and gone downstairs, where he made
+himself a cup of wretched coffee. Then he blew out his candle and
+watched the gray light spread. He was impatient now to be off, and fully
+an hour before the sun, set out for Boggs', a tall, gaunt figure in the
+shadowy uncertainty of that October morning. He was the first to reach
+the place of meeting, but he had scarcely entered the meadow when
+Fentress rode up, attended by Tom Ware. They dismounted, and the colonel
+lifted his hat. Mahaffy barely acknowledged the salute; he was in no
+mood for courtesies that meant nothing. Ware was clearly of the same
+mind.
+
+There was an awkward pause, then Fentress and Ware spoke together in
+a low tone. The planter's speech was broken and hoarse, and his heavy,
+bloodshot eyes were the eyes of a haunted man; this was all a part of
+Fentress' scheme to face the world, and Ware still believed that the
+fires Hicks had kindled had served his desperate need.
+
+When the first long shadows stole out from the edge of the woods
+Fentress turned to Mahaffy, whose glance was directed toward the distant
+corner of the field, where he knew his friend must first appear.
+
+"Why are we waiting, sir?" he demanded, his tone cold and formal.
+
+"Something has occurred to detain Price," answered Mahaffy.
+
+The colonel and Ware exchanged looks. Again they spoke together, while
+Mahaffy watched the road. Ten minutes slipped by in this manner, and
+once more Fentress addressed Mahaffy.
+
+"Do you know what could have detained him?" he inquired, the ghost of a
+smile curling his thin lips.
+
+"I don't," said Mahaffy, and relapsed into a moody and anxious silence.
+He held dueling in very proper abhorrence, and only his feeling of
+intense but never-declared loyalty to his friend had brought him there.
+
+Another interval of waiting succeeded.
+
+"I have about reached the end of my patience; I shall wait just ten
+minutes longer," said Fentress, and drew out his watch.
+
+"Something has happened--" began Mahaffy.
+
+"I have kept my engagement; he should have kept his," Fentress
+continued, addressing Ware. "I am sorry to have brought you here for
+nothing, Tom."
+
+"Wait!" said Mahaffy, planting himself squarely before Fentress.
+
+"I consider this comic episode at an end," and Fentress pocketed his
+watch.
+
+"Scarcely!" rejoined Mahaffy. His long arm shot out and the open palm of
+his hand descended on the colonel's face. "I am here for my friend," he
+said grimly.
+
+The colonel's face paled and colored by turns.
+
+"Have you a weapon?" he asked, when he could command his voice. Mahaffy
+exhibited the pistol he had carried to Belle Plain the day before.
+
+"Step off the ground, Tom." Fentress spoke quietly. When Ware had done
+as he requested, the colonel spoke again. "You are my witness that I was
+the victim of an unprovoked attack."
+
+Mr. Ware accepted this statement with equanimity, not to say
+indifference.
+
+"Are you ready?" he asked; he glanced at Mahaffy, who by a slight
+inclination of the head signified that he was. "I reckon you're a green
+hand at this sort of thing?" commented Tom evilly.
+
+"Yes," said Mahaffy tersely.
+
+"Well, listen: I shall count, one, two, three; at the word three you
+will fire. Now take your positions."
+
+Mahaffy and the colonel stood facing each other, a distance of twelve
+paces separating them. Mahaffy was pale but dogged, he eyed Fentress
+unflinchingly. Quick on the word Fentress fired, an instant later
+Mahaffy's pistol exploded; apparently neither bullet had taken effect,
+the two men maintained the rigid attitude they had assumed; then Mahaffy
+was seen to turn on his heels, next his arm dropped to his side and the
+pistol slipped from his fingers, a look of astonishment passed over his
+face and left it vacant and staring while his right hand stole up toward
+his heart; he raised it slowly, with difficulty, as though it were held
+down by some invisible weight.
+
+A hush spread across the field. It was like one of nature's invisible
+transitions. Along the edge of the woods the song of birds was stricken
+into silence. Ware, heavy-eyed Fentress, his lips twisted by a tortured
+smile, watched Mahaffy as he panted for breath, with his hand clenched
+against his chest. That dead oppressive silence lasted but a moment,
+from out of it came a cry that smote on the wounded man's ears and
+reached his consciousness.
+
+"It's Price--" he gasped, his words bathed in blood, and he pitched
+forward on his face.
+
+Ware and Fentress had heard the cry, too, and running to their horses
+threw themselves into the saddle and galloped off. The judge midway of
+the meadow roared out a furious protest but the mounted men turned into
+the highroad and vanished from sight, and the judge's shaking legs bore
+him swiftly in the direction of the gaunt figure on the ground.
+
+Mahaffy struggled to rise, for he was hearing his friend's voice now,
+the voice of utter anguish, calling his name. At last painful effort
+brought him to his knees. He saw the judge, clothed principally in
+a gaily colored bed-quilt, hatless and shoeless, his face sodden and
+bleary from his night's debauch. Mahaffy stood erect and staggered
+toward him, his hand over his wound, his features drawn and livid, then
+with a cry he dropped at his friend's feet.
+
+"Solomon! Solomon!" And the judge knelt beside him.
+
+"It's all right, Price; I kept your appointment," whispered Mahaffy; a
+bloody spume was gathering on his lips, and he stared up at his friend
+with glassy eyes.
+
+In very shame the judge hid his face in his hands, while sobs shook him.
+
+"Solomon--Solomon, why did you do this?" he cried miserably.
+
+The harsh lines on the dying man's face erased themselves.
+
+"You're the only friend I've known in twenty years of loneliness, Price.
+I've loved you like a brother," he panted, with a pause between each
+word.
+
+Again the judge buried his face in his hands.
+
+"I know it, Solomon--I know it!" he moaned wretchedly.
+
+"Price, you are still a man to be reckoned with. There's the boy; take
+your place for his sake and keep it--you can."
+
+"I will--by God, I will!" gasped the judge. "You hear me? You hear me,
+Solomon? By God's good help, I will!"
+
+"You have the president's letter--I saw it," said Mahaffy in a whisper.
+
+"Yes!" cried the judge. "Solomon, the world is changing for us!"
+
+"For me most of all," murmured Mahaffy, and there was a bleak instant
+when the judge's ashen countenance held the full pathos of age and
+failure. "Remember your oath, Price," gasped the dying man. A moment of
+silence succeeded. Mahaffy's eyes closed, then the heavy lids slid back.
+He looked up at the judge while the harsh lines of his sour old face
+softened wonderfully. "Kiss me, Price," he whispered, and as the judge
+bent to touch him on the brow, the softened lines fixed themselves in
+death, while on his lips lingered a smile that was neither bitter nor
+sneering.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. A CRISIS AT THE COURT-HOUSE
+
+
+In that bare upper room they had shared, the judge, crushed and broken,
+watched beside the bed on which the dead man lay; unconscious of the
+flight of time he sat with his head bowed in his hands, having scarcely
+altered his position since he begged those who carried Mahaffy up the
+narrow stairs to leave him alone with his friend.
+
+He was living over the past. He recalled his first meeting with Mahaffy
+in the stuffy cabin of the small river packet from which they had later
+gone ashore at Pleasantville; he thanked God that it had been given
+him to see beneath Solomon's forbidding exterior and into that starved
+heart! He reviewed each phase of the almost insensible growth of their
+intimacy; he remembered Mahaffy's fine true loyalty at the time of his
+arrest--he thought of Damon and Pythias--Mahaffy had reached the heights
+of a sublime devotion; he could only feel enobled that he had inspired
+it.
+
+At last the dusk of twilight invaded the room. He lighted the candles
+on the chimneypiece, then he resumed his seat and his former attitude.
+Suddenly he became aware of a small hand that was resting on his arm and
+glanced up; Hannibal had stolen quietly into the room. The boy pointed
+to the still figure on the bed.
+
+"Judge, what makes Mr. Mahaffy lie so quiet--is he dead?" he asked in a
+whisper.
+
+"Yes, dear lad," began the judge in a shaking voice as he drew Hannibal
+toward him, "your friend and mine is dead--we have lost him." He lifted
+the boy into his lap, and Hannibal pressed a tear-stained face against
+the judge's shoulder. "How did you get here?" the judge questioned
+gently.
+
+"Uncle Bob fetched me," said Hannibal. "He's down-stairs, but he didn't
+tell me Mr. Mahaffy was dead-"
+
+"We have sustained a great loss, Hannibal, and we must never forget the
+moral grandeur of the man. Some day, when you are older, and I can bring
+myself to speak of it, I will tell you of his last moments." The judge's
+voice broke, a thick sob rose chokingly in his throat. "Poor Solomon! A
+man of such tender feeling that he hid it from the world, for his was a
+rare nature which only revealed itself to the chosen few he honored with
+his love." The judge lapsed into a momentary brooding silence, in which
+his great arms drew the boy closer against his heart. "Dear lad, since I
+left you at Belle Plain a very astonishing knowledge has come to me.
+It was the Hand of Providence--I see it now--that first brought us
+together. You must not call me judge any more; I am your grandfather
+your mother was my daughter."
+
+Hannibal instantly sat erect and looked up at the judge, his blue eyes
+wide with amazement at this extraordinary statement.
+
+"It is a very strange story, Hannibal, and its links are not all in my
+hands, but I am sure because of what I already know. I, who thought that
+not a drop of my blood flowed in any veins but my own, live again in
+you. Do you understand what I am telling you? Your are my own dear
+little grandson--" and the judge looked down with no uncertain love and
+pride into the small face upturned to his.
+
+"I am glad if you are my grandfather, judge," said Hannibal very
+gravely. "I always liked you."
+
+"Thank you, dear lad," responded the judge with equal gravity, and then
+as Hannibal nestled back in his grandfather's arms a single big tear
+dropped from the end of that gentleman's prominent nose.
+
+"There will be many and great changes in store for us," continued the
+judge. "But as we met adversity with dignity, I am sure we shall be able
+to endure prosperity with equanimity, only unworthy natures are affected
+by what is at best superficial and accidental. I mean that the blight of
+poverty is about to be lifted from our lives."
+
+"Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?" asked
+Hannibal.
+
+The judge regarded him with infinite tenderness of expression; he was
+profoundly moved.
+
+"Would you mind saying that again, dear lad?"
+
+"Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?"
+repeated Hannibal.
+
+"I shall enjoy an adequate competency which I am about to recover. It
+will be sufficient for the indulgence of those simple and intellectual
+tastes I propose to cultivate for the future." In spite of himself the
+judge sighed. This was hardly in line with his ideals, but the right to
+choose was no longer his. "You will be very rich, Hannibal. The Quintard
+lands--your grandmother was a Quintard--will be yours; they run up into
+the hundred of thousand of acres here about; this land will all be yours
+as soon as I can establish your identity."
+
+"Will Uncle Bob be rich too?" inquired Hannibal.
+
+"Certainly. How can he be poor when we possess wealth?" answered the
+judge.
+
+"You reckon he will always live with us, don't you, grandfather?"
+
+"I would not have it otherwise. I admire Mr. Yancy--he is simple and
+direct, and fit for any company under heaven except that of fools. His
+treatment of you has placed me under everlasting obligations; he shall
+share what we have. My one bitter, unavailing regret is that Solomon
+Mahaffy will not be here to partake of our altered fortunes." And the
+judge sighed deeply.
+
+"Uncle Bob told me Mr. Mahaffy got hurt in a duel, grandfather?" said
+Hannibal.
+
+"He was as inexperienced as a child in the use of firearms, and he had
+to deal with scoundrels who had neither mercy nor generous feeling--but
+his courage was magnificent."
+
+Presently Hannibal was deep in his account of those adventures he had
+shared with Miss Betty.
+
+"And Miss Malroy--where is she now?" asked the judge, in the first pause
+of the boy's narrative.
+
+"She's at Mr. Bowen's house. Mr. Carrington and Mr. Cavendish are
+here too. Mrs. Cavendish stayed down yonder at the Bates' plantation.
+Grandfather, it were Captain Murrell who had me stole--do you reckon he
+was going to take me back to Mr. Bladen?"
+
+"I will see Miss Malroy in the morning. We must combine--our interests
+are identical. There should be hemp in this for more than one scoundrel!
+I can see now how criminal my disinclination to push myself to the front
+has been!" said the judge, with conviction. "Never again will I shrink
+from what I know to be a public duty."
+
+A little later they went down-stairs, where the judge had Yancy make up
+a bed for himself and Hannibal on the floor. He would watch alone beside
+Mahaffy, he was certain this would have been the dead man's wish; then
+he said good night and mounted heavily to the floor above to resume his
+vigil and his musings.
+
+Just at daybreak Yancy was roused by the pressure of a hand on his
+shoulder, and opening his eyes saw that the judge was bending over him.
+
+"Dress!" he said briefly. "There's every prospect of trouble--get your
+rifle and come with me!"
+
+Yancy noted that this prospect of trouble seemed to afford the judge
+a pleasurable sensation; indeed, he had quite lost his former air of
+somber and suppressed melancholy.
+
+"I let you sleep, thinking you needed the rest," the judge went on.
+"But ever since midnight we've been on the verge of riot and possible
+bloodshed. They've arrested John Murrell--it's claimed he's planned a
+servile rebellion! A man named Hues, who had wormed his way into his
+confidence, made the arrest. He carried Murrell into Memphis, but the
+local magistrate, intimidated, most likely, declined to have anything to
+do with holding him. In spite of this, Hues managed to get his prisoner
+lodged in jail, but along about nightfall the situation began to look
+serious. Folks were swarming into town armed to the teeth, and Hues
+fetched Murrell across country to Raleigh--"
+
+"Yes?" said Yancy.
+
+"Well, the sheriff has refused to take Murrell into custody. Hues has
+him down at the court-house, but whether or not he is going to be able
+to hold him is another matter!"
+
+Yancy and Hannibal had dressed by this time, and the judge led the way
+from the house. The Scratch Hiller looked about him. Across the street
+a group of men, the greater number of whom were armed, stood in front
+of Pegloe's tavern. Glancing in the direction of the court-house, he
+observed that the square before it held other groups. But what impressed
+him more was the ominous silence that was everywhere. At his elbow the
+judge was breathing deep.
+
+"We are face to face with a very deplorable condition, Mr. Yancy. Court
+was to sit here to-day, but judge Morrow and the public prosecutor have
+left town, and as you see, Murrell's friends have gathered for a rescue.
+There's a sprinkling of the better element--but only a sprinkling. I saw
+judge Morrow this morning at four o'clock--I told him I would obligate
+myself to present for his consideration evidence of a striking and
+sensational character, evidence which would show conclusively that
+Murrell should be held to await the action of the next grand jury--this
+was after a conference with Hues--I guaranteed his safety. Sir, the man
+refused to listen to me! He showed himself utterly devoid of any feeling
+of public duty." The bitter sense of failure and futility was leaving
+the judge. The situation made its demands on that basic faith in his own
+powers which remained imbedded in his character.
+
+They had entered the court-house square. 'On the steps of the building
+Betts was arguing loudly with Hues, who stood in the doorway, rifle in
+hand.
+
+"Maybe you don't know this is county property?" the sheriff was saying.
+"And that you have taken unlawful possession of it for an unlawful
+purpose? I am going to open them doors-a passel of strangers can't keep
+folks out of a building their own money has bought and paid for!" While
+he was speaking, the judge had pushed his way through the crowd to the
+foot of the steps.
+
+"That was very nicely said, Mr. Betts," observed the judge. He smiled
+widely and sweetly. The sheriff gave him a hostile glare. "Do you know
+that Morrow has left town?" the judge went on.
+
+"I ain't got nothing to do with judge Morrow. It's my duty to see that
+this building is ready for him when he's a mind to open court in it."
+
+"You are willing to assume the responsibility of throwing open these
+doors?" inquired the judge affably.
+
+"I shorely am," said Betts. "Why, some of these folks are our leading
+people!"
+
+The judge turned to the crowd, and spoke in a tone of excessive
+civility. "Just a word, gentlemen!--the sheriff is right; it is your
+court-house and you should not be kept out of it. No doubt there are
+some of you whose presence in this building will sooner or later be
+urgently desired. We are going to let all who wish to enter, but I beg
+you to remember that there will be five men inside whose prejudices
+are all in favor of law and order." He pushed past Hues and entered the
+court-house, followed by Yancy and Hannibal. "We'll let 'em in where I
+can talk to 'em," he said almost gaily. "Besides, they'll come in anyhow
+when they get ready, so there's no sense in exciting them."
+
+In the court-house, Murrell, bound hand and foot, was seated between
+Carrington and the Earl of Lambeth in the little railed-off space below
+the judge's bench. Fear and suffering had blanched his unshaven cheeks
+and given a wild light to his deeply sunken eyes. At sight of Yancy a
+smothered exclamation broke from his lips, he had supposed this man dead
+these many months!
+
+Hues had abandoned his post and the crowd, suddenly grown clamorous,
+stormed the narrow entrance. One of the doors, borne from its hinges,
+went down with a crash. The judge, a fierce light flashing from his
+eyes, turned to Yancy.
+
+"No matter what happens, this fellow Murrell is not to escape--if he
+calls on his friends to rescue him he is to be shot!"
+
+The hall was filling with swearing, struggling men, the floor shook
+beneath their heavy tread; then they burst into the court-room and
+saluted Murrell with a great shout. But Murrell, bound, in rags, and
+silent, his lips frozen in a wolfish grin, was a depressing sight, and
+the boldest felt something of his unrestrained lawlessness go from him.
+
+Less noisy now, the crowd spread itself out among the benches or swarmed
+up into the tiny gallery at the back of the building. Man after man had
+hurried forward, intent on passing beyond the railing, but each lead
+encountered the judge, formidable and forbidding, and had turned
+aside. Gradually the many pairs of eyes roving over the little group
+surrounding the outlaw focussed themselves on Slocum Price. It was in
+unconscious recognition of that moral force which was his, a tribute to
+the grim dignity of his unshaken courage; what he would do seemed worth
+considering.
+
+He was charmed to hear his name pass in a whisper from lip to lip. Well,
+it was time they knew him! He squared his ponderous shoulders and made a
+gesture commanding silence. Battered, shabby and debauched, he was
+like some old war horse who sniffs the odor of battle that the wind
+incontinently brings to his nostrils.
+
+"Don't let him speak!" cried a voice, and a tumult succeeded.
+
+Cool and indomitable the judge waited for it to subside. He saw that the
+color was stealing back into Murrell's face. The outlaw was feeling that
+he was a leader not overthrown, these were his friends and followers,
+his safety was their safety too. In a lull in the storm of sound the
+judge attempted to make himself heard, but his words were lost in the
+angry roar that descended on him.
+
+"Don't let him speak! Kill him! Kill him!"
+
+A score of men sprang to their feet and from all sides came the click
+of rifle and pistol hammers as they were drawn to the full cock. The
+judge's fate seemed to rest on a breath. He swung about on his heel and
+gave a curt nod to Yancy and Cavendish, who, falling back a step, tossed
+their guns to their shoulders and covered Murrell. A sudden hush grew up
+out of the tumult; the cries, angry and jeering, dwindled to a murmur,
+and a dead pall of silence rested on the crowded room.
+
+The very taste of triumph was in the judge's mouth. Then came a
+commotion at the back of the building, a whispered ripple of comment,
+and Colonel Fentress elbowed his way through the crowd. At sight of his
+enemy the judge's face went from white to red, while his eyes blazed;
+but for the moment the force of his emotions left him speechless. Here
+and there, as he advanced, Fentress recognized a friend and bowed coolly
+to the right and left.
+
+"What does this ridiculous mockery mean?" he demanded harshly. "Mr.
+Sheriff, as a member of the bar, I protest! Why don't you clear the
+building?" He did not wait for Betts to answer him, but continued.
+"Where is this man Hues?"
+
+"Yonder, Colonel, by the captain," said Betts.
+
+"I have a warrant for his arrest. You will take him into custody."
+
+"Wait!" cried the judge. "I represent Mr. Hues. I desire to see that
+warrant!"
+
+But Fentress ignored him. He addressed the crowded benches.
+
+"Gentlemen, it is a serious matter forcibly to seize a man without
+authority from the courts and expose him to the danger of mob
+violence--Mr. Hues will learn this before we have done with him."
+
+Instantly there was a noisy demonstration that swelled into a burst
+of applause, which quickly spent itself. The struggle seemed to have
+narrowed to an individual, contest for supremacy between Fentress and
+the judge. On the edge of the railed off space they confronted each
+other: the colonel, a tall, well-cared-for presence; the judge shabby
+and unkempt. For a moment their eyes met, while the judge's face purpled
+and paled, and purpled again. The silence deepened. Fentress' thin lips
+opened, twitched, but no sound came from them; then his glance wavered
+and fell. He turned away.
+
+"Mr. Sheriff!" he called sharply.
+
+"All right, Colonel!"
+
+"Take your man into custody," ordered Fentress. As he spoke he handed
+the warrant to Betts, who looked at it, grinned, and stepped toward
+Hues. He would have pushed the judge aside had not that gentleman,
+bowing civilly, made way for him.
+
+"In my profound respect for the law and properly constituted authority I
+yield to no man, not even to Colonel Fentress," he said, with a gracious
+gesture. "I would not place the slightest obstacle in the way of its
+sanctioned manifestation. Colonel Fentress comes here with that high
+sanction." He bowed again ceremoniously to the colonel. "I repeat, I
+respect his dependence upon the law!" He whirled suddenly.
+
+"Cavendish--Yancy--Carrington--I call upon you to arrest John Murrell! I
+do this by virtue of the authority vested in me as a judge of the United
+States Federal Court. His crime--a mere trifle, my friends--passing
+counterfeit money! Colonel Fentress will inform you that this is a
+violation of the law which falls within my jurisdiction," and he beamed
+blandly on Fentress.
+
+"It's a lie!" cried the colonel.
+
+"You'll answer for that later!" said the judge, with abrupt austerity of
+tone.
+
+"For all we know you may be some fugitive from justice! Why, your name
+isn't Price!"
+
+"Are you sure of that?" asked the judge quickly.
+
+"You're an impostor! Your name is Turberville!"
+
+"Permit me to relieve your apprehensions. It is Turberville who has
+received the appointment. Would you like to examine my credentials?--I
+have them by me--no? I am obliged for your introduction. It could not
+have come at a more timely moment!" The judge seemed to dismiss Fentress
+contemptuously. Once more he faced the packed benches. "Put down your
+weapons!" he commanded. "This man Murrell will not be released. At the
+first effort at rescue he will be shot where he sits--we have sworn
+it--his plotting is at an end." He stalked nearer the benches. "Not one
+chance in a thousand remains to him. Either he dies here or he lives to
+betaken before every judge in the state, if necessary, until we find one
+with courage to try him! Make no mistake--it will best conserve the ends
+of justice to allow the state court's jurisdiction in this case; and I
+pledge myself to furnish evidence which will start him well on his road
+to the gallows!" The judge, a tremendous presence, stalked still nearer
+the benches. Outfacing the crowd, a sense of the splendor of the part
+he was being called upon to play flowed through him like some elixir;
+he felt that he was transcending himself, that his inspiration was drawn
+from the hidden springs of the spirit, and that he could neither falter
+nor go astray. "You don't know what you are meddling with! This man
+has plotted to lay the South in ruins--he has been arming the
+negroes--it--it is incredible that you should all know this--to such I
+say, go home and thank God for your escape! For the others"--his shaggy
+brows met in a menacing frown--"if they force our hand we will toss them
+John Murrell's dead carcass--that's our answer to their challenge!"
+
+He strode out among the gun muzzles which wavered where they still
+covered him. He was thinking of Mahaffy--Mahaffy, who had said he was
+still a man to be reckoned with. For the comfort of his own soul he was
+proving it.
+
+"Do you know what a servile insurrection means?--you men who have wives
+and daughters, have you thought of their fate? Of the monstrous savagery
+to which they would be exposed? Do you believe he could limit and
+control it? Look at him! Why, he has never had a consideration outside
+of his own safety, and yet he expects you to risk your necks to save
+his! He would have left the state before the first blow was struck--his
+business was all down river--but we are going to keep him here to answer
+for his crimes! The law, as implacable as it is impartial, has put its
+mark on him--the shadow in which he sits is the shadow of the gallows!"
+
+The judge paused, but the only sound in that expectant silence was the
+heavy breathing of men. He drew his unwieldy form erect, while his voice
+rumbled on, aggressive and threatening in its every intonation.
+
+"You are here to defend something that no longer exists. Your
+organization is wrecked, your signals and passwords are known, your
+secrets have become public property--I can even produce a list of your
+members; there are none of you who do not stand in imminent peril--yet
+understand, I have no wish to strike at those who have been misled or
+coerced into joining Murrell's band!" The judge's sodden old face glowed
+now with the magnanimity of his sentiments. "But I have no feeling
+of mercy for your leaders, none for Murrell himself. Put down your
+guns!--you can only kill us after we have killed Murrell--but you can't
+kill the law! If the arch conspirator dies in this room and hour, on
+whose head will the punishment fall?" He swung round his ponderous arm
+in a sweeping gesture and shook a fat but expressive forefinger in the
+faces of those nearest him. "On yours--and yours--and yours!"
+
+Across the space that separated them the judge grinned his triumph at
+his enemy. He had known when Fentress entered the room that a word or
+a sign from him would precipitate a riot, but he knew now that neither
+this word nor this sign would be given. Then quite suddenly he strode
+down the aisle, and foot by foot Fentress yielded ground before his
+advance. A murderous light flashed from the judge's bloodshot eyes and
+his right hand was stealing toward the frayed tails of his coat.
+
+"Look out--he's getting ready to shoot!" cried a frightened voice.
+
+Instantly by doors and windows the crowd, seized with inexplicable
+panic, emptied itself into the courthouse yard. Fentress was caught
+up in the rush and borne from the room and from the building. When he
+reached the graveled space below the steps he turned. The judge was in
+the doorway, the center of a struggling group; Mr. Bowen, the minister,
+Mr. Saul and Mr. Wesley were vainly seeking to pinion his arm.
+
+"Draw--damn you!" he roared at Fentress, as he wrenched himself free,
+and the crowd swayed to right and left as Fentress was seen to reach for
+his pistol.
+
+Mr. Saul made a last frantic effort to restrain his friend; he seized
+the judge's arm just as the latter's finger pressed the trigger, and
+an instant later Fentress staggered back with the judge's bullet in his
+shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. THE END AND THE BEGINNING
+
+
+It was not strange that a number of gentlemen in and about Raleigh
+yielded to an overmastering impulse to visit newer lands, nor was it
+strange that the initial steps looking toward the indulgence of their
+desires should have been taken in secrecy. Mr. Pegloe was one of the
+first to leave; Mr. Saul had informed him of the judge's declared
+purpose of shooting him on sight. Even without this useful hint the
+tavern-keeper had known that he should experience intense embarrassment
+in meeting the judge; this was now a dreary certainty.
+
+"You reckon he means near all he says?" he had asked, his fat sides
+shaking.
+
+"I'd take his word a heap quicker than I would most folks," answered Mr.
+Saul with conviction.
+
+Pegloe promptly had a sinking spell. He recalled the snuffing of
+the candles by the judge, an extremely depressing memory under the
+circumstances, also the reckless and headlong disregard of consequences
+which had characterized so many of that gentleman's acts, and his plans
+shaped themselves accordingly, with this result: that when the judge
+took occasion to call at the tavern, and the hostile nature of his visit
+was emphasized by the cautious manner of his approach, he was greatly
+shocked to discover that his intended victim had sold his business
+overnight for a small lump sum to Mr. Saul's brother-in-law, who had
+appeared most opportunely with an offer.
+
+Pegloe's flight created something of a sensation, but it was dwarfed by
+the sensation that developed a day or so later when it became known
+that Tom Ware and Colonel Fentress had likewise fled the country. Still
+later, Fentress' body, showing marks of violence, was washed ashore at a
+wood-yard below Girard. It was conjectured that he and Ware had set
+out from The Oaks to cross the river; there was reason to believe that
+Fentress had in his possession at the time a considerable sum of money,
+and it was supposed that his companion had murdered and robbed him. Of
+Ware's subsequent career nothing was ever known.
+
+These were, after all, only episodes in the collapse of the Clan,
+sporific manifestations of the great work of disintegration that was
+going forward and which the judge, more than any other, perhaps, had
+brought about. This was something no one questioned, and he quickly
+passed to the first phase of that unique and peculiar esteem in which he
+was ever after held. His fame widened with the succeeding suns; he had
+offers of help which impressed him as so entirely creditable to human
+nature that he quite lacked the heart to refuse them, especially as he
+felt that in the improvement of his own condition the world had bettered
+itself and was moving nearer those sound and righteous ideals of
+morality and patriotism which had never lacked his indorsement, no
+matter how inexpedient it had seemed for him to put them into practice.
+But he was not diverted from his ultimate purpose by the glamour of
+a present popularity; he was able to keep his bleared eyes resolutely
+fixed on the main chance, namely the Fentress estate and the Quintard
+lands. It was highly important that he should go east to South Carolina
+to secure documentary evidence that would establish his own and
+Fentress' identity, to Kentucky, where Fentress had lived prior to his
+coming to Tennessee.
+
+Early in November the judge set out by stage on his journey east; he was
+accompanied by Yancy and Hannibal, from neither of whom could he bring
+himself to be separated; and as the woods, flaming now with the touch of
+frost, engulfed the little town, he turned in his seat and looked back.
+He had entered it by that very road, a beggar on foot and in rags;
+he was leaving it in broadcloth and fine linen, visible tokens of his
+altered fortunes. More than this, he could thrust his hands deep down
+into his once empty pockets and hear the clink of gold and silver. The
+judge slowly withdrew his eyes from the last gray roof that showed among
+the trees, and faced the east and the future with a serenely confident
+expression.
+
+Betty Malroy and Carrington had ridden into Raleigh to take leave of
+their friends. They had watched the stage from sight, had answered the
+last majestic salute the judge had given them across the swaying top of
+the coach before the first turn of the road hid it from sight, and then
+they had turned their horses' heads in the direction of Belle Plain.
+
+"Bruce, do you think judge Price will ever be able to accomplish all he
+hopes to?" Betty asked when they had left the town behind. She drew
+in her horse as she spoke, and they went forward at a walk under the
+splendid arch of the forest and over a carpet of vivid leaves.
+
+"I reckon he will, Betty," responded Carrington. Unfavorable as had
+been his original estimate of the judge's character, events had greatly
+modified it.
+
+"He really seems quite sure, doesn't he?" said Betty.
+
+"There's not a doubt in his mind," agreed Carrington.
+
+He was still at Belle Plain, living in what had been Ware's office,
+while the Cavendishes were domiciled at the big house. He had arranged
+with the judge to crop a part of that hopeful gentleman's land the very
+next season; the fact that a lawsuit intervened between the judge and
+possession seemed a trifling matter, for Carrington had become infected
+with the judge's point of view, which did not admit of the possibility
+of failure; but he had not yet told Betty of his plans. Time enough for
+that when he left Belle Plain.
+
+His silence concerning the future had caused Betty much thought. She
+wondered if he still intended going south into the Purchase; she was not
+sure but it was the dignified thing for him to do. She was thinking of
+this now as they went forward over the rustling leaves, and at length
+she turned in the saddle and faced him.
+
+"I am going to miss Hannibal dreadfully--yes, and the judge, and Mr.
+Yancy!" she began.
+
+"And when I leave--how about me, Betty?" Carrington asked unexpectedly,
+but he only had in mind leaving Belle Plain.
+
+A little sigh escaped Betty's red lips, for she was thinking of the
+Purchase, which lay far down the river, many, many miles distant. The
+sigh was ever so little, but Carrington had heard it.
+
+"I am to be missed, too, am I, Betty?" he inquired, leaning toward her.
+
+"You, Bruce?--Oh, I shall miss you, too--dreadfully--but then, perhaps
+in five years, when you come back--"
+
+"Five years!" cried Carrington, but he understood, something of what
+was passing in her mind, and laughed shortly. "Five years, Betty?" he
+repeated, dwelling on the numeral.
+
+Betty hesitated and looked thoughtful. Presently she stole a
+surreptitious glance at Carrington from under her long lashes, and went
+on slowly, as though she were making careful choice of her words.
+
+"When you come back in three years, Bruce--"
+
+Carrington still regarded her fixedly. There was a light in his black
+eyes that seemed to penetrate to the most secret recesses of her heart
+and soul.
+
+"Three years, Betty?" he repeated again.
+
+Betty, her eyes cast down, twisted her rein nervously between her slim,
+white fingers, but Carrington's steady glance never left her sweet face,
+framed by its halo of bright hair. She stole another look at him from
+beneath her dark lashes.
+
+"Three years, Betty?" he prompted.
+
+"Bruce, don't stare at me that way, it makes me forget what I was going
+to say! When you come, back--next year--" and then she lifted her eyes
+to his and he saw that they were full of sudden tears. "Bruce, don't go
+away--don't go away at all--"
+
+Carrington slipped from the saddle and stood at her side.
+
+"Do you mean that, Betty?" he asked. He took her hands loosely in his
+and relentlessly considered her crimsoned face. "I reckon it will always
+be right hard to refuse you anything--here is one settler the Purchase
+will never get!" and he laughed softly.
+
+"It was the Purchase--you were going there!" she cried.
+
+"No, I wasn't, Betty; that notion died its natural death long ago. When
+we are sure you will be safe at Belle Plain with just the Cavendishes,
+I am going into Raleigh to wait as best I can until spring." He spoke so
+gravely, that she asked in quick alarm.
+
+"And then, Bruce--what?"
+
+"And then--Oh, Betty, I'm starving--" All in a moment he lifted her
+slender figure in his arms, gathering her close to him. "And then,
+this--and this--and this, sweetheart--and more--and--oh, Betty! Betty!"
+
+When Murrell was brought to trial his lawyers were able to produce a
+host of witnesses whose sworn testimony showed that so simple a thing as
+perjury had no terrors for them. His fight for liberty was waged in and
+out of court with incredible bitterness, and, as judge and jury were
+only human, the outlaw escaped with the relatively light sentence of
+twelve years' imprisonment; he died, however, before the expiration of
+his term.
+
+The judge, where he returned to Raleigh, resumed his own name of
+Turberville, and he allowed it to be known that he would not be offended
+by the prefix of General. During his absence he had accumulated a wealth
+of evidence of undoubted authenticity, with the result that his claim
+against the Fentress estate was sustained by the courts, and when
+The Oaks with its stock and slaves was offered for sale, he, as the
+principal creditor, was able to buy it in.
+
+One of his first acts after taking possession of the property was to
+have Mahaffy reinterred in the grove of oaks below his bedroom windows,
+and he marked the spot with a great square of granite. The judge,
+visibly shaken by his emotions, saw the massive boulder go into place.
+
+"Harsh and rugged like the nature of him who lies beneath it--but
+enduring, too, as he was," he murmured. He turned to Yancy and Hannibal,
+and added,
+
+"You will lay me beside him when I die."
+
+Then when the bitter struggle came and he was wrenched and tortured by
+longings, his strength was in remembering his promise to the dead man,
+and it was his custom to go out under the oaks and pace to and fro
+beside Mahaffy's grave until he had gained the mastery of himself. Only
+Yancy and Hannibal knew how fierce the conflict was he waged, yet in the
+end he won that best earned of all victories, the victory over himself.
+
+"My salvation has been a costly thing; it was bought with the blood of
+my friend," he told Yancy.
+
+It was Hannibal's privilege to give Cavendish out of the vast Quintard
+tract such a farm as the earl had never dreamed of owning even in his
+most fervid moments of imagining; and he abandoned all idea of going to
+England to claim his title. At the judge's suggestion he named the
+place Earl's Court. He and Polly were entirely satisfied with their
+surroundings, and never ceased to congratulate themselves that they had
+left Lincoln County. They felt that their friends the Carringtons at
+Belle Plain, though untitled people, were still of an equal rank with
+themselves; while as for the judge, they doubted if royalty itself laid
+it any over him.
+
+Mr. Yancy accepted his changed fortunes with philosophic composure.
+Technically he filled the position of overseer at The Oaks, but the
+judge's activity was so great that this position was largely a sinecure.
+The most arduous work he performed was spending his wages.
+
+Certain trifling peculiarities survived with the judge even after he
+had entered what he had once been prone to call the Portal of Hope; for
+while his charity was very great and he lived with the splendid air of
+plenty that belonged to an older order, it required tact, patience, and
+persistence to transact business with him; and his creditors, of whom
+there were always a respectable number, discovered that he esteemed them
+as they were aggressive and determined. He explained to Yancy that too
+great certainty detracted from the charm of living, for, after all, life
+was a game--a gamble--he desired to be reminded of this. Yet he was
+held in great respect for his wisdom and learning, which was no more
+questioned that his courage.
+
+Thus surrounded by his friends, who were devoted to him, he began
+Hannibal's education and the preparation of his memoirs, intended
+primarily for the instruction of his grandson, and which he modestly
+decided to call The History of My Own Times, which clearly showed the
+magnificence of his mind and its outlook.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prodigal Judge, by Vaughan Kester
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prodigal Judge, by Vaughan Kester
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+Title: The Prodigal Judge
+
+Author: Vaughan Kester
+
+Release Date: February, 2004  [EBook #5129]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on May 5, 2002]
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE PRODIGAL JUDGE ***
+
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by Polly Stratton.
+
+
+
+THE PRODIGAL JUDGE BY VAUGHAN KESTER
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE BOY AT THE BARONY
+
+
+The Quintards had not prospered on the barren lands of the pine
+woods whither they had emigrated to escape the malaria of the low
+coast, but this no longer mattered, for the last of his name and
+race, old General Quintard, was dead in the great house his
+father had built almost a century before and the thin acres of
+the Barony, where he had made his last stand against age and
+poverty, were to claim him, now that he had given up the struggle
+in their midst.  The two or three old slaves about the place,
+stricken with a sense of the futility of the fight their master
+had made, mourned for him and for themselves, but of his own
+blood and class none was present.
+
+Shy dwellers from the pine woods, lanky jeans-clad men and
+sunbonneted women, who were gathering for the burial of the
+famous man of their neighborhood, grouped themselves about the
+lawn which had long since sunk to the uses of a pasture lot.
+Singly or by twos and threes they stole up the steps and across
+the wide porch to the open door.  On the right of the long hall
+another door stood open, and who wished could enter the
+drawing-room, with its splendid green and gold paper, and the
+wonderful fireplace with the Dutch tiles that graphically
+depicted the story of Jonah and the whale.
+
+Here the general lay in state.  The slaves had dressed their old
+master in the uniform he had worn as a colonel of the continental
+line, but the thin shoulders of the wasted figure no longer
+filled the buff and blue coat.  The high-bred face, once proud
+and masterful no doubt, as became the face of a Quintard, spoke
+of more than age and poverty--it was infinitely sorrowful.  Yet
+there was something harsh and unforgiving in the lines death had
+fixed there, which might have been taken as the visible impress
+of that mystery, the bitterness of which had misshaped the dead
+man's nature; but the resolute lips had closed for ever on their
+secret, and the broken spirit had gone perhaps to learn how poor
+a thing its pride had been.
+
+Though he had lived continuously at the Barony for almost a
+quarter of a century, there was none among his neighbors who
+could say he had looked on that thin, aquiline face in all that
+time.  Yet they had known much of him, for the gossip of the
+slaves, who had been his only friends in those years he had
+chosen to deny himself to other friends, had gone far and wide
+over the county.
+
+That notable man of business, Jonathan Crenshaw--and this
+superiority was especially evident when the business chanced to
+be his own--was closeted in the library with a stranger to whom
+rumor fixed the name of Bladen, supposing him to be the legal
+representative of certain remote connections of the old
+general's.
+
+Crenshaw sat before the flat-topped mahogany desk in the center
+of the room with several well-thumbed account-books open before
+him.  Bladen, in riding dress, stood by the window.
+
+"I suppose you will buy in the property when it comes up for
+sale?" the latter was saying.
+
+Mr. Crenshaw had already made it plain that General Quintard's
+creditors would have lean pickings at the Barony, intimating that
+he himself was the chiefest of these and the one to suffer most
+grievously in pocket.  Further than this, Mr. Bladen saw that the
+old house was a ruin, scarcely habitable, and that the thin
+acres, though they were many and a royal grant, were of the
+slightest value.  Crenshaw nodded his acquiescence to the
+lawyer's conjecture touching the ultimate fate of the Barony.
+
+"I reckon, sir, I'll want to protect myself, but if there are any
+of his own kin who have a fancy to the place I'll put no obstacle
+in their way."
+
+"Who are the other creditors?" asked Bladen.
+
+"There ain't none, sir; they just got tired waiting on him, and
+when they began to sue and get judgment the old general would
+send me word to settle with them, and their claims passed into my
+hands.  I was in too deep to draw out.  But for the last ten
+years his dealings were all with me; I furnished the supplies for
+the place here.  It didn't amount to much, as there was only him
+and the darkies, and the account ran on from year to year."
+
+"He lived entirely alone, saw no one, I understand," said Bladen.
+
+"Alone with his two or three old slaves--yes, sir.  He wouldn't
+even see me; Joe, his old nigger, would fetch orders for this or
+that.  Once or twice I rode out to see him, but I wa'n't even
+allowed inside that door; the message I got was that he couldn't
+be disturbed, and the last time I come he sent me word that if I
+annoyed him again he would be forced to terminate our business
+relations.  That was pretty strong talk, wa'n't it, when you
+consider that I could have sold the roof from over his head and
+the land from under his feet?  Oh, well, I just put it down to
+childishness."  There was a brief pause, then Crenshaw spoke
+again.  "I reckon, sir, if you know anything about the old
+general's private affairs you don't feel no call to speak on that
+point?" he observed, and with evident regret.  He had hoped that
+Bladen would clear up the mystery, for certainly it must have
+been some sinister tragedy that had cost the general his grip on
+life and for twenty years and more had made of him a recluse, so
+that the faces of his friends had become as the faces of
+strangers.
+
+"My dear sir, I know nothing of General Quintard's private,
+history.  I am even unacquainted with my clients, who are distant
+cousins, but his nearest kin--they live in South Carolina.  I was
+merely instructed to represent them in the event of his death and
+to look after their interests."
+
+"That's business," said Crenshaw, nodding.
+
+"All I know is this: General Quintard was a conspicuous man in
+these parts fifty years ago; that was before my time, Mr.
+Crenshaw, and I take it, too, it was before yours; he married a
+Beaufort."
+
+"So he did," said Crenshaw, "and there was one child, a daughter;
+she married a South Carolinian by the name of Turberville.  I
+remember that, fo' they were married under the gallery in the
+hall.  Great folks, those Turbervilles, rolling rich.  My father
+was manager then fo' the general--that was nearly forty years
+ago.  There was life here then, sir; the place was alive with
+niggers and the house full of guests from one month's end to
+another."  He drummed on the desktop.  "Who'd a thought it wa'n't
+to last for ever!"
+
+"And what became of the daughter who married Turberville ?"
+
+"Died years ago," said Crenshaw.  "She was here the last time
+about thirty years back.  It wa'n't so easy to get about in those
+days, no roads to speak of and no stages, and besides, the old
+general wa'n't much here nohow; her going away had sort of broken
+up his home, I reckon.  Then the place stood empty fo' a few
+years, most of the slaves were sold off, and the fields began to
+grow up.  No one rightly knew, but the general was supposed to be
+traveling up yonder in the No'th, sir.  As I say, things ran
+along this way quite a while, and then one morning when I went to
+my store my clerk says, 'There's an old white-headed nigger been
+waiting round here fo' a word with you, Mr. Crenshaw.'  It was
+Joe, the general's body servant, and when I'd shook hands with
+him I said, 'When's the master expected back?'  You see, I
+thought Joe had been sent on ahead to open the house, but he
+says, 'General Quintard's at the Barony now,' and then he says,
+'The general's compliments, sir, and will you see that this order
+is filled?'  Well, Mr. Bladen, I and my father had factored the
+Barony fo' fifteen years and upward, but that was the first time
+the supplies fo' the general's table had ever been toted here in
+a meal sack!
+
+"I rode out that very afternoon, but Joe, who was one of your
+mannerly niggers, met me at the door and says, 'Mr. Crenshaw, the
+general appreciates this courtesy, but regrets that he is unable
+to see you, sir.'  After that it wa'n't long in getting about
+that the general was a changed man.  Other folks came here to
+welcome him back and he refused to see them, but the reason of it
+we never learned.  Joe, who probably knew, was one of your close
+niggers; there was, no getting anything out of him; you could
+talk with that darky by the hour, sir, and he left you feeling
+emptier than if he'd kept his mouth shut."
+
+They were interrupted by a knock at the door.
+
+"Come in," said Crenshaw, a trifle impatiently, and in response
+to his bidding the door opened and a small boy entered the room
+dragging after him a long rifle.  Suddenly overcome by a
+speechless shyness, he paused on the threshold to stare with
+round, wondering eyes at the two men.  "Well, sonny, what do you
+want?" asked Mr. Crenshaw indulgently.
+
+The boy opened his mouth, but his courage failed him, and with
+his courage went the words he would have spoken.
+
+"Who is this?" asked Bladen.
+
+"I'll tell, you presently," said Crenshaw.  "Come, speak up,
+sonny, what do you want?"
+
+"Please, sir, I want this here old spo'tin' rifle," said: the
+child.  "Please, sir, I want to keep it," he added.
+
+"Well, you run along on out of here with your old spo'tin'
+rifle!" said Crenshaw good-naturedly.
+
+"Please, sir, am I to keep it?"
+
+"Yes, I reckon you may keep it--least I've no objection."
+Crenshaw glanced at Bladen.
+
+"Oh, by all means," said the latter.  Spasms of delight shook the
+small figure, and with a murmur that was meant for thanks he
+backed from the room, closing the door.  Bladen glanced
+inquiringly at Crenshaw.
+
+"You want to know about him, sir?  Well, that's Hannibal Wayne
+Hazard."
+
+"Hannibal Wayne Hazard?" repeated Bladen.
+
+"Yes, sir; the general was the authority on that point, but who
+Hannibal Wayne Hazard is and how he happens to be at the Barony
+is another mystery--just wait a minute, sir--" and quitting his
+chair Mr. Crenshaw hurried from the room to return almost
+immediately with a tall countryman.  "Mr. Bladen, this is Bob
+Yancy.  Bob, the gentleman, wants to hear about the woman and the
+child; that's your story."
+
+"Howdy, sir," said Mr. Yancy.  He appeared to meditate on the
+mental effort that was required of him, then he took a long
+breath.  "It was this a-ways--" he began with a soft drawl, and
+then paused.  "You give me the dates, Mr. John, fo' I
+disremember."
+
+"It was four year ago come next Christmas," said Crenshaw.
+
+"Old Christmas," corrected Mr. Yancy.  "Our folks always kept the
+old Christmas like it was befo' they done mussed up the calendar.
+I'm agin all changes," added Mr. Yancy.
+
+"He means the fo'teenth of December," explained Mr. Crenshaw.
+
+"Not wishin' to dispute your word, Mr. John, I mean Christmas,"
+objected Yancy.
+
+"Oh, very well, he means Christmas then!" said Crenshaw.
+
+"The evening befo', it was, and I'd gone to Fayetteville to get
+my Christmas fixin's; there was right much rain and some snow
+falling." Mr. Yancy's guiding light was clearly accuracy.  "Just
+at sundown I hooked up that blind mule of mine to the cart and
+started fo' home.  As I got shut of the town the stage come in
+and I seen one passenger, a woman.  Now that mule is slow, Mr.
+John; I'm free to say there are faster mules, but a set of
+harness never went acrost the back of a slower critter than that
+one of mine."  Yancy, who thus far had addressed himself to Mr.
+Crenshaw, now turned to Bladen.  "That mule, sir, sees good with
+his right eye, but it's got a gait like it was looking fo' the
+left-hand side of the road and wondering what in thunderation had
+got into it that it was acrost the way; mules are gifted with
+some sense, but mighty little judgment."
+
+"Never mind the mule, Bob," said Crenshaw.
+
+"If I can't make the gentleman believe in the everlasting
+slowness of that mule of mine, my story ain't worth a hill of
+beans," said Yancy.
+
+"The extraordinary slowness of the mule is accepted without
+question, Mr. Yancy," said Bladen.
+
+"I'm obliged to you," rejoined Yancy, and for a brief moment he
+appeared to commune with himself, then he continued.  "A mile out
+of town I heard some one sloshing through the rain after me; it
+was dark by that time and I couldn't see who it was, so I pulled
+up and waited, and then I made out it was a woman.  She spoke
+when she was alongside the cart and says, 'Can you drive me on to
+the Barony?' and it came to me it was the same woman I'd seen
+leave the stage.  When I got down to help her into the cart I saw
+she was toting a child in her arms."
+
+"What did the woman look like, Bob?" said Crenshaw.
+
+"She wa'n't exactly old and she wa'n't young by no manner of
+means; I remember saying to myself, that child ain't yo's, whose
+ever it is.  Well, sir, I was willing enough to talk, but she
+wa'n't, she hardly spoke until we came to the red gate, when she
+says, 'Stop, if you please, I'll walk the rest of the way.'  Mind
+you, she'd known without a word from me we were at the Barony.
+She give me a dollar, and the last I seen of her she was hurrying
+through the rain toting the child in her arms."
+
+Mr. Crenshaw took up the narrative.
+
+"The niggers say the old general almost had a fit when he saw
+her.  Aunt Alsidia let her into the house; I reckon if Joe had
+been alive she wouldn't have got inside that door, spite of the
+night!"
+
+"Well?" said Bladen.
+
+"When morning come she was gone, but the child done stayed
+behind; we always reckoned the lady walked back to Fayetteville
+sometime befo' day and took the stage.  I've heard Aunt Alsidia
+tell as how the old general said that morning, pale and shaking
+like, 'You'll find a boy asleep in the red room; he's to be fed
+and cared fo', but keep him out of my sight.  His name is
+Hannibal Wayne Hazard.'  That is all the general ever said on the
+matter.  He never would see the boy, never asked after him even,
+and the boy lived in the back of the house, with the niggers to
+look after him.  Now, sir, you know as much as we know, which is
+just next door to nothing."
+
+The old general was borne across what had once been the west lawn
+to his resting-place in the neglected acre where the dead and
+gone of his race lay, and the record of the family was complete,
+as far as any man knew.  Crenshaw watched the grave take shape
+with a melancholy for which he found no words, yet if words could
+have come from the mist of ideas in which his mind groped vaguely
+he would have said that for themselves the deeds of the Quintards
+had been given the touch of finality, and that whether for good
+or for evil, the consequences, like the ripple which rises from
+the surface of placid waters when a stone is dropped, still
+survived somewhere in the world.
+
+The curious and the idle drifted back to the great house; then
+the memory of their own affairs, not urgent, generally speaking,
+but still of some casual interest, took them down the disused
+carriage-way to the red gate and so off into the heat of the
+summer day.  Crenshaw's wagon, driven by Crenshaw's man, vanished
+in a cloud of gray dust with the two old slaves, Aunt Alsidia and
+Uncle Ben, who were being taken to the Crenshaw place to be cared
+for pending the settlement of the Quintard estate.  Bladen parted
+from Crenshaw with expressions of pleasure at having had the
+opportunity of making his acquaintance, and further delivered
+himself of the civil wish that they might soon meet again.  Then
+Crenshaw, assisted by Bob Yancy, proceeded to secure the great
+house against intrusion.
+
+"I make it a p'int to always stay and see the plumb finish of a
+thing," explained Yancy.  "Otherwise you're frequently put out by
+hearing of what happened after you left; I can stand anything but
+disapp'intment of that kind."
+
+They passed from room to room securing doors and windows, and at
+last stepped out upon the back porch.
+
+"Hullo!" said Yancy, pointing.
+
+There on a bench by the kitchen door was a small figure.  It was
+Hannibal Wayne Hazard asleep, with his old spo'tin' rifle across
+his knees.  His very existence had been forgotten.
+
+"Well, I declare to goodness!" said Crenshaw.
+
+"What are you going to do with him, Mr. John?"
+
+This question nettled Crenshaw.
+
+"I don't know as that is any particular affair of mine," he said.
+Now, Mr. Crenshaw, though an excellent man of business, with an
+unblinking eye on number one, was kindly, on the whole, but there
+was a Mrs. Crenshaw, to whom he rendered a strict account of all
+his deeds, and that sacred institution, the home, was only a
+tolerable haven when these deeds were nicely calculated to fit
+with the lady's exactions.  Especially was he aware that Mrs.
+Crenshaw was averse to children as being inimical to cleanliness
+and order, oppressive virtues that drove Crenshaw himself in his
+hours of leisure to the woodshed, where he might spit freely.
+
+"I reckon you'd rather drop a word with yo' missus before you
+toted him home?" suggested Yancy, who knew something of the
+nature of his friend's domestic thraldom.
+
+"A woman ought to be boss in her own house," said Crenshaw.
+
+"Feelin' the truth of that, I've never married, Mr. John; I do as
+I please and don't have to listen to a passel of opinion.  But I
+was going to say, what's to hinder me from toting that boy to my
+home?  There are no calico petticoats hanging up in my closets."
+
+"And no closets to hang 'em in, I'll be bound!" rejoined
+Crenshaw.  "But if you'll take the boy, Bob, you shan't lose by
+it."
+
+Yancy rested a big knotted hand on the boy's shoulder.
+
+"Come, wake up, sonny!  Yo' Uncle Bob is ready fo' to strike out
+home," he said.  The child roused with a start and stared into
+the strange bearded face that was bent toward him.  "It's yo'
+Uncle Bob," continued Yancy in a wheedling tone.  "Are you the
+little nevvy what will help him to hook up that old blind mule of
+hisn ?  Here, give us the spo'tin' rifle to tote!"
+
+"Please, sir, where is Aunt Alsidia?" asked the child.
+
+Yancy balanced the rifle on his great palm and his eyes assumed a
+speculative cast.
+
+"I wonder what's to hinder us from loading this old gun, and
+firing this old gun, and hearing this old gun go-bang! Eh?"
+
+The child's blue eyes grew wide.
+
+"Like the guns off in the woods?" he asked, in a breathless
+whisper.
+
+"Like the guns a body hears off in the woods, only louder--heaps
+louder," said Yancy.  "You fetch out his plunder, Mr. John," he
+added in a lower tone.
+
+"Do it now, please," the child cried, slipping off the bench.
+
+"I was expectin' fo' to hear you name me Uncle Bob, sonny; my
+little nevvies get almost anything they want out of me when they
+call me that-a-ways."
+
+"Please, Uncle Bob, make it go bang!"
+
+"You come along, then," and Mr. Yancy moved off in the direction
+of his mule, the child following.  "Powder's what we want fo' to
+make this old spo'tiu' rifle talk up, and I reckon we'll find
+some in a horn flask in the bottom of my cart."  His expectations
+in this particular were realized, and he loaded the rifle with a
+small blank charge.  'Now," he said, shaking the powder into the
+pan by a succession of smart taps on the breech, "sometimes these
+old pieces go off and sometimes they don't; it depends on the
+flint, but you stand back of your Uncle Bob, sonny, and keep yo'
+fingers out of yo' ears, and when you say--bang!-- off she goes."
+
+There was a moment of delightful expectancy, and then--
+
+"Bang!" cried the child, and on the instant the rifle cracked.
+"Do it againQ  Please, Uncle Bob!" he cried, wild with delight.
+
+"Now if you was to help yo' Uncle Bob hook up that old mule of
+hisn and ride home with him, fo' he's going pretty shortly, you
+and Uncle Bob could do right much shootin' with this old rifle."
+Mr. Crenshaw had appeared with a bundle, which he tossed into the
+cart.  Yancy turned to him.  "If you meet any inquiring friends,
+Mr. John, I reckon you may say that my nevvy's gone fo' to pay me
+a visit.  Most of his time will be agreeably spent shootin' with
+this rifle at a mark, and me holdin' him so he won't get kicked
+clean off his feet."
+
+Thereafter beguiling speech flowed steadily from Mr. Yancy's
+bearded lips, in the midst of which relations were established
+between the mule and cart, and the boy quitted the Barony for a
+new world.
+
+"Do you reckon if Uncle Bob was to let you, you could drive,
+sonny?"
+
+"Can she gallop?" asked the boy.
+
+Mr. Yancy gave him a hurt glance.
+
+"She's too much of a lady to do that," he said.  "No, I 'low this
+ain't 'so fast as running or walking, but it's a heap quicker
+than standing stock-still."  The afternoon sun waned as they went
+deeper and deeper into the pine woods, but at last they came to
+their journey's end, a widely scattered settlement on a hill
+above a branch.
+
+"This," said Mr. Yancy, "are Scratch Hill, sonny.  Why Scratch
+Hill?  Some say it's the fleas; others agin hold it's the eternal
+bother of making a living here, but whether fleas or living you
+scratch fo' both."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+YANCY TELLS A MORAL TALE
+
+
+In the deep peace that rested like a benediction on the pine-clad
+slopes of Scratch Hill the boy Hannibal followed at Yancy's heels
+as that gentleman pursued the not arduous rounds of temperate
+industry which made up his daily life, for if Yancy were not
+completely idle he was responsible for a counterfeit presentment
+of idleness having most of the merits of the real article.  He
+toiled casually in a small cornfield and a yet smaller truck
+patch, but his work always began late, when it began at all, and
+he was easily dissuaded from continuing it; indeed, his attitude
+toward it seemed to challenge interference.
+
+In the winter, when the weather conditions were perfectly
+adjusted to meet certain occult exactions he had come to require,
+Yancy could be induced to go into the woods and there labor with
+his ax.  But as he pointed out to Hannibal, a poor man's capital
+was his health, and he being a poor man it behooved him to have a
+jealous care of himself.  He made use of the dull days of mingled
+mist and drizzle for hunting, work being clearly out of the
+question; one could get about over the brown floor of the forest
+in silence then, and there was no sun to glint the brass
+mountings of his rifle.  The fine days he professed to regard
+with keen suspicion as weather breeders, when it was imprudent to
+go far from home, especially in the direction of the Crenshaw
+timber lands, which for years had been the scene of all his
+gainful industry, and where he seemed to think nature ready to
+assume her most sinister aspect.  Again in the early spring, when
+the young oak leaves were the size of squirrel's ears and the
+whippoorwills began calling as the long shadows struck through
+the pine woods, the needs of his corn ground battled with his
+desire to fish.  In all such crises of the soul Mr. Yancy was
+fairly vanquished before the struggle began; but to the boy his
+activities were perfectly ordered to yield the largest return in
+contentment.
+
+The Barony had been offered for sale and bought in by Crenshaw
+for eleven thousand dollars, this being the amount of his claim.
+Some six months later he sold the plantation for fifteen thousand
+dollars to Nathaniel Ferris, of Currituck County.
+
+"There's money in the old place, Bob, at that figure," Crenshaw
+told Yancy.
+
+"There are so," agreed Yancy, who was thinking Crenshaw had lost
+no time in getting it out.
+
+They were seated on the counter in Crenshaw's store at Balaam's
+Cross Roads, where the heavy odor of black molasses battled with
+the sprightly smell of salt fish.  The merchant held the Scratch
+Hiller in no small esteem.  Their intimacy was of long standing,
+for the Yancys going down and the Crenshaws coming up had for a
+brief space flourished on the same social level.  Mr. Crenshaw's
+rise in life, however, had been uninterrupted, while Mr. Yancy,
+wrapped in a philosophic calm and deeply averse to industry, had
+permitted the momentum imparted by a remote ancestor to carry him
+where it would, which was steadily away from that tempered
+prosperity his family had once boasted as members of the
+land-owning and slaveholding class.
+
+"I mean there's money in the place fo' Ferris," Crenshaw
+explained.
+
+"I reckon yo're right, Mr. John; the old general used to spend a
+heap on the Barony and we all know he never got a cent back, so I
+reckon the money's there yet.
+
+"Bladen's got an answer from them South Carolina Quintards, and
+they don't know nothing about the boy," said Crenshaw, changing
+the subject.  "So you can rest easy, Bob; they ain't going to
+want him."
+
+"Well, sir, that surely is a passel of comfort to me.  I find I
+got all the instincts of a father without having had none of the
+instincts of a husband."
+
+A richer, deeper realization of his joy came to Yancy when he had
+turned his back on Balaam's Cross Roads and set out for home
+through the fragrant silence of the pine woods.  His probable
+part in the young life chance had placed in his keeping was a
+glorious thing to the man.  He had not cared to speculate on the
+future; he had believed that friends or kindred must sooner or
+later claim Hannibal, but now he felt wonderfully secure in
+Crenshaw's opinion that this was not to be.
+
+Just beyond the Barony, which was midway between Balaam's and the
+Hill, down the long stretch of sandy road he saw two mounted
+figures, then as they drew nearer he caught the flutter of skirts
+and recognized one of the horsewomen.  It was Mrs. Ferris, wife
+of the Barony's new owner.  She reined in her horse abreast of
+his cart.
+
+"Aren't you Mr. Yancy?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, that's me--Bob Yancy."  He regarded her with large
+gray eyes that were frankly approving in their expression, for
+she was more than commonly agreeable to look upon.
+
+"I am Mrs. Ferris, and I am very pleased to make your
+acquaintance."
+
+"The same here," murmured Yancy with winning civility.
+
+Mrs. Ferris' companion leaned forward, her face averted, and
+stroked her horse's neck with gloved hand.
+
+"This is my friend, Miss Betty Malroy."
+
+"Glad to know you, ma'am," said Yancy.
+
+Miss Malroy faced him, smiling.  She, too, was very good to look
+upon, indeed she was quite radiant with youth and beauty.
+
+"We are just returning from Scratch Hill--I think that is what
+you call it?" said Mrs. Ferris.
+
+"So we do," agreed Yancy.
+
+"And the dear little boy we met is your nephew, is he not, Mr.
+Yancy?" It was Betty Malroy who spoke.
+
+"In a manner he is and in a manner he ain't," explained Yancy,
+somewhat enigmatically.
+
+"There are quite a number of children at Scratch Hill?" suggested
+Mrs. Ferris.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, so there are; a body would naturally notice that."
+
+"And no school--not a church even!" continued Mrs. Ferris in a
+grieved tone.
+
+"Never has been," rejoined Yancy cheerfully.  He seemed to
+champion the absence of churches and schools on the score of long
+usage.
+
+"But what do the people do when they want to go to church?"
+questioned Mrs. Ferris.
+
+"Never having heard that any of 'em wanted to go I can't say just
+offhand, but don't you fret none about that, ma'am; there are
+churches; one's up at the Forks, and there's another at Balaam's
+Cross Roads."
+
+"But that's ten miles from Scratch Hill, isn't it?"
+
+"It's all of that," said Yancy.  He sensed it that the lady
+before him, was a person of much force and energy, capable even
+of reckless innovation.  Mr. Yancy himself was innately
+conservative; his religious inspiration had been drawn from the
+Forks and Balaam's Cross Roads.  It had seemed to answer very
+well.  Mrs. Ferris fixed his wavering glance.
+
+"Don't you think it is too bad, Mr. Yancy, the way those children
+have been neglected?  There is nothing for them but to run wild."
+
+"Well, I seen some right good children fetched up that-a-ways
+--smart, too.  You see, ma'am, there's a heap a child can just
+naturally pick up of himself."
+
+"Oh!" and the monosyllable was uttered rather weakly.  Mr.
+Yancy's name had been given her as that of a resident of weight
+and influence in the classic region of Scratch Hill.  Miss Malroy
+came to her friend's rescue.
+
+"Mrs. Ferris thinks the children should have a chance to learn at
+home.  Poor little tots!--they can't walk ten or fifteen miles to
+Sunday-school, now can they, Mr. Yancy ?"
+
+"Bless yo' heart, they won't try to!" said Yancy reassuringly.
+"Sunday's a day of rest at Scratch Hill.  So are most of the
+other days of the week, but we all aspire to take just a little
+mo' rest on Sunday than any other day.  Sometimes we ain't able
+to, but that's our aim."
+
+"Do you know the old deserted cabin by the big pine?--the Blount
+place?" asked Mrs. Ferris.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I know it."
+
+"I am going to have Sunday-school there for those children; they
+shan't be neglected any longer if I can help it--I should feel
+guilty, quite guilty!  Now won't you let your little nephew come?
+Perhaps they'll not find it so very terrible, after all."  From
+which Mr. Yancy concluded that when she invaded it, skepticism
+had rested as a mantle on Scratch Hill.
+
+"Every one said we would better talk with you, Mr. Yancy, and we
+were hoping to meet you as we came along," supplemented Miss
+Malroy, and her words of flattery were wafted to him with so
+sweet a smile that Yancy instantly capitulated.
+
+"I reckon you-all can count on my nevvy," he said.
+
+When he reached Scratch Hill, in the waning light of day,
+Hannibal, in a state of high excitement, met him at the log shed,
+which served as a barn.
+
+"I hear you-all have been entertaining visitors while Uncle Bob
+was away," observed Yancy, and remembering what Crenshaw had told
+him, he rested his big hand on the boy's head with a special
+tenderness.
+
+"There's going to be a school in the cabin in the old field!"
+said the boy.  "May I go?--Oh, Uncle Bob, will you please take
+me?"
+
+"When's this here school going to begin, anyhow?"
+
+"To-morrow at four o'clock, she said, Uncle Bob."
+
+"She's a quick lady, ain't she?  Well, I expected you'd be
+hopping around on one leg when you named it to me.  You wait
+until Sunday and see what I do fo' my nevvy," said Yancy.
+
+He was as good as his implied promise, but the day began
+discouragingly with an extra and, as it seemed to Hannibal, an
+unnecessary amount of soap and water.
+
+"You owe it to yo'self to show a clean skin in the house of
+worship.  Just suppose one of them nice ladies was to cast her
+eye back of yo' ears!  She'd surely be put out to name it offhand
+whether you was black or white.  I reckon I'll have to barber you
+some, too, with the shears."
+
+"What's school like, Uncle Bob?" asked Hannibal, twisting and
+squirming under the big resolute hands of the man.
+
+"I can't just say what it's like."
+
+"Why, didn't you ever go to school, Uncle Bob?"
+
+"Didn't I ever go to school!  Where do you reckon I got my
+education, anyhow?  I went to school several times in my young
+days."
+
+"On a Sunday, like this?"
+
+"No, the school I tackled was on a week-day."
+
+"Was it hard?" asked Hannibal, who was beginning to cherish
+secret misgivings; for surely all this soap and water must have
+some sinister portent
+
+"Well, some learn easier than others.  I learned middling easy
+--it didn't take me long--and when I felt I knowed enough I just
+naturally quit and went on about my business."
+
+"But what did you learn?" insisted the boy.
+
+"You-all wouldn't know if I told you, because you-all ain't ever
+been to school yo'self.  When you've had yo' education we'll talk
+over what I learned--it mostly come out of a book."  He hoped his
+general statement would satisfy Hannibal, but it failed to do so.
+
+"What's a book.  Uncle Bob?" he demanded.
+
+"Well, whatever a body don't know naturally he gets out of a
+book.  I reckon the way you twist, Nevvy, mebby you'd admire fo'
+to lose an ear!" and Mr. Yancy refused further to discuss the
+knowledge he had garnered in his youth.
+
+Hannibal and Yancy were the first to arrive at the deserted cabin
+in the old field that afternoon.  They found the place had been
+recently cleaned and swept, while about the wall was ranged a row
+of benches; there was also a table and two chairs.  Yancy
+inspected the premises with the eye of mature experience.
+
+"Yes, it surely is a school; any one with an education would know
+that.  Just look!--ain't you glad yo' Uncle Bob slicked you up
+some, now you see what them ladies has done fo' to make this
+place tidy?"
+
+Shy children from the pine woods, big brothers with little
+sisters and big sisters with little brothers, drifted out of the
+encircling forest.  Coincident with the arrival of the last of
+these stragglers Mrs. Ferris and Miss Malroy appeared, attended
+by a colored groom.
+
+"It was so good of you to come, Mr. Yancy!  The children won't
+feel so shy with you here," said Mrs. Ferris warmly, as Yancy
+assisted her to dismount, an act of courtesy that called for his
+finest courage.
+
+Mrs. Ferris' missionary spirit manifested itself agreeably enough
+on the whole.  When she had ranged her flock in a solemn-faced
+row on the benches, she began by explaining why Sunday was set
+apart for a day of rest, touching but lightly on its deeper
+significance as a day of worship as well; then she read certain
+chapters from the Bible, finishing with the story of David, a
+narrative that made a deep impression upon Yancy, comfortably
+seated in the doorway.
+
+"Can't you tell the children a story, Mr. Yancy?  Something about
+their own neighborhood I think would be nice, something with a
+moral," the pleasant earnest voice  f Mrs. Ferris roused the
+Scratch Hiller from his meditations.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I reckon I can tell 'em a story."  He stood up,
+filling the doorway with his bulk.  "I can tell you-all a story
+about this here house," he said, addressing himself to the
+children.  He smiled happily.  "You-all don't need to look so
+solemn, a body ain't going to snap at you!  This house are the
+old Blount cabin, but the Blounts done moved away from it years
+and years ago.  They're down Fayetteville way now.  There was a
+passel of 'em and they was about as common a lot of white folks
+as you'd find anywhere; I know, because I come to a dance here
+once and Dave Blount called me a liar right in this very room."
+He paused, that this impressive fact might disseminate itself.
+Hannibal slid forward in his seat, his earnest little face bent
+on Yancy.
+
+"Why did he call you a liar, Uncle Bob?" he demanded.
+
+"Well, I scarcely know, Nevvy, but that's what he done, and he
+stuck some words in front of it that ain't fitten I should
+repeat."
+
+Miss Malroy's cheeks had become very red, and Mrs. Ferris refused
+to meet her eye, while the children were in a flutter of pleased
+expectancy.  They felt the wholly contemporary interest of
+Yancy's story; he was dealing with forms of speech which
+prevailed and were usually provocative of consequences more or
+less serious.  He gave them a wide, sunny smile.
+
+"When Dave Blount called me that, I struck out fo' home."  At
+this surprising turn in the narrative the children looked their
+disgust, and Mrs. Ferris shot Betty a triumphant glance.  "Yes,
+ma'am, I struck out across the fields fo' home, I didn't wish to
+hear no mo' of that loose kind of talk.  When I got home I found
+my old daddy setting up afo' the fire, and he says, 'You come
+away early, son.'  I told him what Dave Blount had called me and
+he says, 'You acted like a gentleman, Bob, with all them
+womenfolks about."'
+
+"You had a very good and sensible father, Mr. Yancy.  How much
+better than if--" began Mrs. Ferris, who feared that the moral
+might elude him.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, but along about day he come into the loft where I
+was sleeping and says to me, 'Sun-up, Bob--time fo' you to haul
+on yo' pants and go back yonder and fetch that Dave Blount a
+smack in the jaw.'"  Mrs. Ferris moved uneasily in her chair: "I
+dressed and come here, but when I asked fo' Dave he wouldn't step
+outside, so I just lost patience with his foolishness and took a
+crack at him standing where I'm standing now, but he ducked and
+you can still see, ma'am"--turning to the embarrassed Mrs.
+Ferris--"where my knuckles made a dint in the door-jamb.  I got
+him the next lick, though!"
+
+Mr. Yancy's moral tale had reached its conclusion; it was not for
+him to boast unduly of his prowess.
+
+"Uncle Bob, you lift me up and show me them dints!" and Hannibal
+slipped from his seat.
+
+"Oh, no!" said Betty Malroy laughing.  She captured the boy and
+drew him down beside her on a corner of her chair.  "I am sure
+you don't want to see the dents--Mr. Yancy's story, children, is
+to teach us how important it is to guard our words--and not give
+way to hasty speech--"
+
+"Betty!" cried Mrs. Ferris indignantly.
+
+"Judith, the moral is as obvious as it is necessary."
+
+Mrs. Ferris gave her a reproachful look and turned to the
+children.
+
+"You will all be here next Sunday, won't you?--and at the same
+hour?" she said, rising.
+
+There was a sudden clatter of hoofs beyond the door.  A man, well
+dressed and well mounted had ridden into the yard.  As Mrs.
+Ferris came from the cabin he flung himself out of the saddle
+and, hat in hand, approached her.
+
+"I am hunting a place called the Barony; can you tell me if I am
+on the right road?" he asked.  He was a man in the early
+thirties, graceful and powerful of build, with a handsome face.
+
+"It is my husband you wish to see?  I am Mrs. Ferris."
+
+"Then General Quintard is dead?"  His tone was one of surprise.
+
+"His death occurred over a year ago, and my husband now owns the
+Barony; were you a friend of the general's ?"
+
+"No, Madam; he was my father's friend, but I had hoped to meet
+him." His manner was adroit and plausible.
+
+Mrs. Ferris hesitated.  The stranger's dress and bearing was that
+of a gentleman, and he could boast of his father's friendship
+with General Quintard.  Any doubts she may have had she put
+aside.
+
+"Will you ride on with us to the Barony and meet my husband, Mr.
+--?" she paused.
+
+"Murrell--Captain Murrell.  Thank you; I should like to see the
+old place.  I should highly value the privilege," then his eyes
+rested on Miss Malroy.
+
+"Betty, let me present Captain Murrell."
+
+The captain bowed, giving her a glance of bold admiration.
+
+By this time the children had straggled off into the pine woods
+as silently as they had assembled; only Yancy and Hannibal
+remained.  Mrs. Ferris turned to the former.
+
+"If you will close the cabin door, Mr. Yancy, everything will be
+ready for next Sunday," she said, and moved toward the horses,
+followed by Murrell.  Betty Malroy lingered for a moment at
+Hannibal's side.
+
+"Good-by, little boy; you must ask your Uncle Bob to bring you up
+to the big house to see me," and stooping she kissed him.
+"Good-by, Mr. Yancy, I liked your story."
+
+Hannibal and Yancy watched them mount and ride away, then the boy
+said:
+
+"Uncle Bob, now them ladies have gone, won't you please show me
+them dints you made in the doorjamb?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+TROUBLE AT SCRATCH HILL
+
+
+Captain Murrell had established himself at Balaam's Cross Roads.
+He was supposed to be interested in the purchase of a plantation,
+and in company with Crenshaw visited the numerous tracts of land
+which the merchant owned; but though he professed delight with
+the country, he was plainly in no haste to become committed to
+any one of the several propositions Crenshaw was eager to submit.
+Later, and still in the guise of a prospective purchaser, he met
+Bladen, who also dealt extensively in land, and apparently if
+anything could have pleased him more than the region about the
+Cross Roads it was the country adjacent to Fayetteville.
+
+From the first he had assiduously cultivated his acquaintance
+with the new owners of the Barony.  He was now on the best of
+terms with Nat Ferris, and it was at the Barony that he lounged
+away his evenings, gossiping and smoking with the planter on the
+wide veranda.
+
+"The Barony would have suited me," he told Bladen one day.  They
+had just returned from an excursion into the country and were
+seated in the lawyer's office.
+
+"You say your father was a friend of the old general's?" said
+Bladen.
+
+"Years ago, in the north--yes," answered Murrell.
+
+"Odd, isn't it, the way he chose to spend the last years of his
+life, shut off like that and seeing no one?"
+
+Murrell regarded the lawyer in silence for a moment out of his
+deeply sunk eyes.
+
+"Too bad about the boy," he said at length slowly.
+
+"How do you mean, Captain?" asked Bladen.
+
+"I mean it's a pity he has no one except Yancy to look after
+him," said Murrell, but Bladen showed no interest and Murrell
+went on.  "Don't you reckon he must have touched General
+Quintard's life mighty close at some point?"
+
+"Well, if so, it eluded me," said Bladen.  "I went through
+General Quintard's papers and they contained no clue to the boy's
+identity that I could discover.  Fact is, the general didn't
+leave much beyond an old account-book or two; I imagine that
+before his death he destroyed the bulk of his private papers; it
+looked as if he'd wished to break with the past.  His mind must
+have been affected."
+
+"Has Yancy any legal claim on the boy?" inquired Murrell.
+
+"No, certainly not; the boy was merely left with Yancy because
+Crenshaw didn't know what else to do with him."
+
+"Get possession of him, and if I don't buy land here I'll take
+him West with me," said Murrell quietly.  Bladen gave him a
+swift, shrewd glance, but Murrell, smiling and easy, met it
+frankly.  "Come," he said, "it's a pity he should grow up wild in
+the pine woods--get him away from Yancy--I am' willing to spend
+five hundred dollars on this if necessary."
+
+"As a matter of sentiment?"
+
+"As a matter of sentiment."
+
+Bladen considered.  He was not averse to making five hundred
+dollars, but he was decidedly averse to letting slip any chance
+to secure a larger sum.  It flashed in upon him that Murrell had
+uncovered the real purpose of his visit to North Carolina; his
+interest in land had been merely a subterfuge.
+
+"Well?" said Murrell.
+
+"I'll have to think your proposition over," said Bladen.
+
+The immediate result of this conversation was that within
+twenty-four hours a man driving two horses hitched to a light
+buggy arrived at Scratch Hill in quest of Bob Yancy, whom he
+found at dinner and to whom he delivered a letter.  Mr. Yancy was
+profoundly impressed by the attention, for holding the letter at
+arm's length, he said
+
+"Well, sir, I've lived nigh on to forty years, but I never got a
+piece of writing befo'--never, sir.  People, if they was close
+by, spoke to me, if at a distance they hollered, but none of 'em
+ever wrote."  After gazing at the written characters with
+satisfaction Mr. Yancy made a taper of the letter and lit his
+pipe, which he puffed meditatively.  "Sonny, when you grow up you
+must learn so you can send writings to yo' Uncle Bob fo' him to
+light his pipe with."
+
+"What was in the paper, Uncle Bob?" asked Hannibal.
+
+"Writin'," said Mr. Yancy, and smoked.
+
+"What did the writin' say, Uncle Bob?" insisted the boy.
+
+"It was private," said Mr. Yancy, "very private."
+
+"What's your answer?" demanded the stranger.
+
+"That's private, too," said Mr. Yancy.  "You tell him I'll be
+monstrous glad to talk it over with him any time he fancies to
+come out here."
+
+"He said something about some one I was to carry back with me,"
+objected the man.
+
+"Who said that?" asked Mr. Yancy.
+
+"Bladen did."
+
+"How's a body to know who yore talking about unless you name
+him?" said Yancy severely.
+
+"Well, what am I to tell him?"
+
+"It's a free country and I got no call to dictate.  You-all can
+tell him whatever you like."  Further than this Mr. Yancy would
+not commit himself, and the man went as he came.
+
+The next day Yancy had occasion to visit Balaam's Cross Roads.
+Ordinarily Hannibal would have gone with him, but he was engaged
+in digging out a groundhog's hole with Oglethorpe Bellamy,
+grandson of Uncle Sammy Bellamy, the patriarch of Scratch Hill.
+Mr. Yancy forbore to interrupt this enterprise which he
+considered of some educational value, since the ground-hog's hole
+was an old one and he was reasonably certain that a family of
+skunks had taken possession of it.  When Yancy reached the Cross
+Roads, Crenshaw gave him a disquieting opinion as to the probable
+contents of his letter, for he himself had heard from Bladen that
+he had decided to assume the care of the boy.
+
+"So you reckon it was that--" said Yancy, with a deep breath.
+
+"It's a blame outrage, Bob, fo' him to act like this!" said the
+merchant with heat.
+
+"When do you reckon he's going to send fo' him?" asked Yancy.
+
+"Whenever the notion strikes him."
+
+"What about my having notions too?" inquired Yancy, flecked into
+passion, and bringing his fist down on the counter with a crash.
+
+"You surely ain't going to oppose him, Bob?"
+
+"Does he say when he's going to send fo' my nevvy ?"
+
+"He says it will be soon."
+
+"You take care of my mule, Mr. John," said Yancy, and turned his
+back on his friend.
+
+"I reckon Bladen will have the law on his side, Bob!"
+
+"The law be damned--I got what's fair on mine, I don't wish fo'
+better than that," exclaimed Yancy, over his shoulder.  He strode
+from the store and started down the sandy road at a brisk run.
+Miserable forebodings of an impending tragedy leaped up within
+him, and the miles were many that lay between him and the Hill.
+
+"He'll just naturally bust the face off the fellow Bladen sends!"
+thought Crenshaw, staring after his friend.
+
+That run of Bob Yancy's was destined to become a classic in the
+annals of the neighborhood.  Ordinarily a man walking briskly
+might cover the distance between the Cross Roads and the Hill in
+two hours.  He accomplished it in less than an hour, and before
+he reached the branch that flowed a full quarter of a mile from
+his cabin he was shouting Hannibal's name as he ran.  Then as he
+breasted the slope he came within sight of a little group in his
+own dooryard.  Saving only Uncle Sammy Bellamy, the group
+resolved itself into the women and children of the Hill, but
+there was one small figure he missed, and the color faded from
+his cheeks while his heart stood still.  The patriarch hurried
+toward him, leaning on his cane, while his grandson clung to the
+skirts of his coat, weeping bitterly.
+
+"They've took your nevvy, Bob!" he cried, in a high, thin voice.
+
+"Who's took him?" asked Yancy hoarsely.  He paused and glanced
+from one to another of the little group.
+
+"Hit were Dave Blount.  Get your gun, Bob, and go after him--kill
+the miserable sneaking cuss!" cried Uncle Sammy, who believed in
+settling all difficulties by bloodshed as befitted a veteran of
+the first war with England, he having risen to the respectable
+rank of sergeant in a company of Morgan's riflemen; while at
+sixty-odd in '12, when there was recruiting at the Cross Roads,
+his son had only been able to prevent his tendering his services
+to his country by hiding his trousers.  "Fetch his rifle, some of
+you fool women!" cried Uncle Sammy.  "By the Fayetteville Road,
+Bob, not ten minutes ago--you can cut him off at Ox Road forks!"
+
+Yancy breathed a sigh of relief.  The situation was not entirely
+desperate, for, as Uncle Sammy said, he could reach the Ox Road
+forks before Blount possibly could, by going as the crow flies
+through the pine woods.
+
+"Hit wouldn't have happened if there'd been a man on the Hill,
+but there was nothing but a passel of women about the place.  I
+heard the boys crying when Dave Blount lifted your nevvy into the
+buggy," said Uncle Sammy; "all I could do was to cuss him across
+two fields.  I hope you blow his hide full of holes!" for a rifle
+had been placed in Yancy's hands.
+
+"Thank you-all kindly," said Yancy, and turning away he struck
+off through the pine woods.  A brisk walk of twenty minutes
+brought him to the Ox Road forks, as it was called, where he
+could plainly distinguish the wheel and hoof marks left by the
+buggy and team as it went to Scratch Hill, but there was only the
+single track.
+
+This important point being settled, sense of sweet peace stole in
+upon Yancy's spirit.  He stood his rifle against a tree, lit his
+pipe with flint and steel, and rested comfortably by the wayside.
+He had not long to wait, for presently the buggy hove in sight;
+whereupon he coolly knocked the ashes from his pipe, pocketed it,
+and prepared for action.  As the buggy came nearer he recognized
+his ancient enemy in the person of the man who sat at Hannibal's
+side, and stepping nimbly into the road seized the horses by
+their bits.  At sight of him Hannibal shrieked his name in an
+ecstasy of delight.
+
+"Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob--" he, cried.
+
+"Yes, it's Uncle Bob.  You can light down, Nevvy.  I reckon
+you've rid far enough," said Yancy pleasantly.
+
+"Leggo them horses!" said Mr. Blount, recovering somewhat from
+the effect of Yancy's sudden appearance.
+
+"Light down, Nevvy," said Yancy, still pleasantly.  Blount turned
+to the boy as if to interfere.  "Don't you put the weight of yo'
+finger on the boy, Blount!" warned Yancy.  "Light down,
+Hannibal!"
+
+Hannibal instantly availed himself of the invitation.  At the
+same moment Blount struck at Yancy with his whip and his horses
+reared wildly, thinking the blow meant for them.  Seeing that the
+boy had reached the ground in safety, Yancy relaxed his hold on
+the team, which instantly plunged forward.  Then as the buggy
+swept past him he made a dexterous grab at Blount and dragged him
+out over the wheels into the road, where, for the second time in
+his life, he proceeded to fetch Mr. Blount a smack in the jaw.
+This he followed up with other smacks variously distributed about
+his countenance.
+
+"You'll sweat for this, Bob Yancy!" cried Blount, as he vainly
+sought to fend off the blows.
+
+"I'm sweating now--scandalous," said Mr. Yancy, taking his
+unhurried satisfaction of the other.  Then with a final skilful
+kick he sent Mr. Blount sprawling.  "Don't let me catch you
+around these diggings again, Dave Blount, or I swear to God I'll
+be the death of you!"
+
+Hannibal rode home through the pine woods in triumph on his Uncle
+Bob's mighty shoulders.
+
+"Did you get yo' ground-hog, Nevvy?" inquired Mr. Yancy presently
+when they had temporarily exhausted the excitement of Hannibal's
+capture and recovery.
+
+"It weren't a ground-hog, Uncle Bob--it were a skunk!"
+
+"Think of that!" murmured Mr. Yancy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+LAW AT BALAAM'S CROSS-ROADS
+
+
+But Mr. Yancy was only at the beginning of his trouble.  Three
+days later there appeared on the borders of Scratch Hill a lank
+gentleman armed with a rifle, while the butts of two pistols
+protruded from the depths of his capacious coat pockets.  He made
+his presence known by whooping from the edge of the branch, and
+his whoops shaped themselves into the name of Yancy.  It was
+Charley Balaam, old Squire Balaam's nephew.  The squire lived at
+the crossroads to which his family had given its name, and
+dispensed the little law that found its way into that part of the
+county.  The whoops finally brought Yancy to his cabin door.
+
+"Can I see you friendly, Bob Yancy?" Balaam demanded with the
+lungs of a stentor, sheltering himself behind the thick bole of a
+sweetgum, for he observed that Yancy held his rifle in the crook
+of his arm and had no wish to offer his person as a target to the
+deadly aim of the Scratch Hiller who was famous for his skill.
+
+"I reckon you can, Charley Balaam, if you are friendly," said
+Yancy.
+
+"I'm a family man, Bob, and I ask you candid, do you feel
+peevish?"
+
+"Not in particular," and Yancy put aside his rifle.
+
+"I'm a-going to trust you, Bob," said Balaam.  And forsaking the
+shelter of the sweetgum he shuffled up the slope.
+
+"How are you, Charley?" asked Yancy, as they shook hands.
+
+"Only just tolerable, Bob.  You've been warranted--Dave Blount
+swore hit on to you." He displayed a sheet of paper covered with
+much writing and decorated with a large seal.  Yancy viewed this
+formidable document with respect, but did not offer to take it.
+
+"Read it," he said mildly.  Balaam scratched his head.
+
+"I don't know that hit's my duty to do that, Bob.  Hit's my duty
+to serve it on to you.  But I can tell you what's into hit,
+leavin' out the law--which don't matter nohow."
+
+At this juncture Uncle Sammy's bent form emerged from the path
+that led off through the woods in the direction of the Bellamy
+cabin.  With the patriarch was a stranger.  Now the presence of a
+stranger on Scratch Hill was an occurrence of such extraordinary
+rarity that the warrant instantly became a matter of secondary
+importance.
+
+"Howdy, Charley.  Here, Bob Yancy, you shake hands with Bruce
+Carrington," commanded Uncle Sammy.  At the name both Yancy and
+Balaam manifested a quickened interest.  They saw a man in the
+early twenties, clean-limbed and broad-shouldered, with a
+handsome face and shapely head.  "Yes, sir, hit's a grandson of
+Tom Carrington that used to own the grist-mill down at the Forks.
+Yo're some sort of wild-hog kin to him, Bob--yo' mother was a
+cousin to old Tom.  Her family was powerful upset at her marrying
+a Yancy.  They say Tom cussed himself into a 'pleptic fit when
+the news was fetched him."
+
+"Where you located at, Mr. Carrington?" asked Yancy.  But
+Carrington was not given a chance to reply.  Uncle Sammy saved
+him the trouble.
+
+"Back in Kentucky.  He tells me he's been follerin' the water.
+What's the name of that place where Andy Jackson fit the
+British?"
+
+"New Orleans," prompted Carrington good naturedly.
+
+"That's hit--he takes rafts down the river to New Orleans, then
+he comes back on ships to Baltimore, or else he hoofs it no'th
+overland."  Uncle Sammy had acquired a general knowledge of the
+stranger's habits and pursuits in an incredibly brief space of
+time.  "He wants to visit the Forks," he added.
+
+"I'm shortly goin' that way myself, Mr. Carrington, and I'll be
+pleased of your company--but first I got to get through with Bob
+Yancy," said Balaam, and again he produced the warrant.  "If
+agreeable to you, Bob, I'll ask Uncle Sammy, as a third party
+friendly to both, to read this here warrant," he said.
+
+"Who's been a-warrantin' Bob Yancy?" cried Uncle Sammy, with
+shrill interest.
+
+"Dave Blount has."
+
+"I knowed hit--I knowed he'd try to get even!"  And Uncle Sammy
+struck his walking-stick sharply on the packed earth of Yancy's
+dooryard.  "What's the charge agin you, Bob?"
+
+"Read hit," said Balaam.  "Why, sho'--can't you read plain
+writin', Uncle Sammy?" for the patriarch was showing signs of
+embarrassment.
+
+"If you gentlemen will let me--" said Carrington pleasantly.
+Instantly there came a relieved chorus from the three in one
+breath.
+
+"Why, sure!"
+
+"Would my spectacles help you any, Mr. Carrington ?" asked Uncle
+Sammy officiously.
+
+"No, I guess not."
+
+"They air powerful seein' glasses, and I'm aweer some folks read
+a heap easier with spectacles than without 'em."  After a
+moment's scrutiny of the paper that Balaam had thrust in his
+hand, Carrington began:
+
+"To the Sheriff of the County of Cumberland: Greetings."
+
+"He means me," explained Balaam.  "He always makes 'em out to the
+sheriff, but they are returned to me and I serve 'em."
+Carrington resumed his reading
+
+"Whereas, It is alleged that a murderous assault has been
+committed on one David Blount, of Fayetteville, by Robert Yancy,
+of Scratch Hill, said Blount sustaining numerous bruises and
+contusions, to his great injury of body and mind; and, whereas,
+it is further alleged that said murderous assault was wholly
+unprovoked and without cause, you will forthwith take into
+custody the person of said Yancy, of Scratch Hill, charged with
+having inflicted the bruises and contusions herein set forth in
+the complaint of said Blount, and instantly bring him into our
+presence to answer to these various and several crimes and
+misdemeanors.  You are empowered to seize said Yancy wherever he
+may be at; whether on the hillside or in the valley, eating or
+sleeping, or at rest.
+
+           "De Lancy Balaam, Magistrate.
+
+"Fourth District, County of Cumberland, State of North Carolina.
+Done this twenty-fourth day of May, I835.
+
+"P.S.  Dear Bob: Dave Blount says he ain't able to chew his meat.
+I thought you'd be glad to know."
+
+Smilingly Carrington folded the warrant and handed it to Yancy.
+
+"Well, what are you goin' to do about hit, Bob?" inquired Balaam.
+
+"Maybe I'd ought to go.  I'd like to oblige the squire," said
+Yancy.
+
+"When does this here co't set?" demanded Uncle Sammy.
+
+"Hit don't do much else since he's took with the lumbago,"
+answered Balaam somewhat obscurely.
+
+"How are the squire, Charley?" asked Yancy with grave concern.
+
+"Only just tolerable, Bob."
+
+"What did he tell you to do?" and Yancy knit his brows.
+
+"Seems like he wanted me to find out what you'd do.  He
+recommended I shouldn't use no violence."
+
+"I wouldn't recommend you did, either," assented Yancy, but
+without heat.
+
+"I'd get shut of this here law business, Bob," advised Uncle
+Sammy.
+
+"Suppose I come to the Cross Roads this evening?"
+
+"That's agreeable," said the deputy, who presently departed in
+company with Carrington.
+
+Some hours later the male population of Scratch Hill, with a
+gravity befitting the occasion, prepared itself to descend on the
+Cross Roads and give its support to Mr. Yancy in his hour of
+need.  To this end those respectable householders armed
+themselves, with the idea that it might perhaps be necessary to
+correct some miscarriage of justice.  They were shy enough and
+timid enough, these remote dwellers in the pine woods, but, like
+all wild things, when they felt they were cornered they were
+prone to fight; and in this instance it was clearly iniquitous
+that Bob Yancy's right to smack Dave Blount should be questioned.
+That denied what was left of human liberty.  But beyond this was
+a matter of even greater importance: they felt that Yancy's
+possession of the boy was somehow involved.
+
+Yancy had declared himself simply but specifically on this point.
+Law or no law, he would kill whoever attempted to take the boy
+from him, and Scratch Hill believing to a man that in so doing he
+would be well within his rights, was prepared to join in the
+fray.  Even Uncle Sammy, who had not been off the Hill in years,
+announced that no consideration of fatigue would keep him away
+from the scene of action and possible danger, and Yancy loaned
+him his mule and cart for the occasion.  When the patriarch was
+helped to his seat in the ancient vehicle he called loudly for
+his rifle.
+
+"Why, pap, what do you want with a weapon?" asked his son
+indulgently.
+"If there air shootin' I may take a hand in it.  Now you-all give
+me a fair hour's start with this mule critter of Bob's, and if
+nothin' busts I'll be at the squire's as soon as the best of
+you."
+
+Uncle Sammy was given the time allowance he asked and then
+Scratch Hill wended its way down the path to the branch and the
+highroad.  Yancy led the straggling procession, with the boy
+trotting by his side, his little sunburned fist clasped in the
+man's great hand.  He, too, was armed.  He carried the old
+spo'tin' rifle he had brought from the Barony, and suspended from
+his shoulder by a leather thong was the big horn flask with its
+hickory stopper his Uncle Bob had fashioned for him, while a
+deerskin pouch held his bullets and an extra flint or two.  He
+understood that beyond those smacks he had seen his Uncle Bob
+fetch Mr. Blount, he himself was the real cause of this
+excitement, that somebody, it was not plain to his mind just who,
+was seeking to get him away from Scratch Hill, and that a
+mysterious power called the Law would sooner or later be invoked
+to this dread end.  But he knew this much clearly, nothing would
+induce him to leave his Uncle Bob!  And his thin little fingers
+nestled warmly against the man's hardened palm.  Yancy looked
+down and gave him a sunny, reassuring smile.
+
+"It'll be all right, Nevvy," he said gently.
+
+"You wouldn't let 'em take me, would you, Uncle Bob?" asked the
+child in a fearful whisper.
+
+"Such an idea ain't entered my head.  And this here warranting is
+just some of Dave Blount's cussedness."
+
+"Uncle Bob, what'll they do to you?"
+
+"Well, I reckon the squire'll feel obliged to do one of two
+things.  He'll either fine me or else he won't."
+
+"What'll you do if he fines you?"
+
+"Why, pay the fine, Nevvy--and then lick Dave Blount again for
+stirring up trouble.  That's the way we most in general do.  I
+mean to say give him a good licking, and that'll make him stop
+his foolishness."
+
+"Wasn't that a good licking you gave him on the Ox Road, Uncle
+Bob?" asked Hannibal.
+
+"It was pretty fair fo' a starter, but I'm capable of doing a
+better job," responded Yancy.
+
+They overtook Uncle Sammy as he turned in at the squire's.
+
+"I thought I'd come and see what kind of law a body gets at this
+here co't of yours," the patriarch explained to Mr. Balaam, who,
+forgetting his lumbago, had hurried forth to greet him.
+
+"But why did you fetch your gun, Uncle Sammy?" asked the
+magistrate, laughing.
+
+"Hit were to be on the safe side, Squire.  Where air them
+Blounts?"
+
+"Them Blounts don't need to bother you none.  There air only
+Dave, and he can't more than half see out of one eye to-day."
+
+The squire's court held its infrequent sittings in the best room
+of the Balaam homestead, a double cabin of hewn logs.  Here
+Scratch Hill was gratified with a view of Mr. Blount's battered
+visage, and it was conceded that his condition reflected
+creditably on Yancy's physical prowess and was of a character
+fully to sustain that gentleman's reputation; for while he was
+notoriously slow to begin a fight, he was reputed to be even more
+reluctant to leave off once he had become involved in one.
+
+"What's all this here fuss between you and Bob Yancy?" demanded
+the squire when he had administered the oath to Blount.  Mr.
+Blount's statement was brief and very much to the point.  He had
+been hired by Mr. Bladen, of Fayetteville, to go to Scratch Hill
+and get the boy who had been temporarily placed in Yancy's
+custody at the time of General Quintard's death.
+
+"Stop just there!" cried the magistrate, leveling a pudgy finger
+at Blount.  "This here co't is already cognizant of certain facts
+bearing on that p'int.  The boy was left with Bob Yancy mainly
+because nobody else would take him.  Them's the facts.  Now go
+on!" he finished sternly.
+
+"I only know what Bladen told me," said Blount sullenly.
+
+"Well, I reckon Mr. Bladen ought to feel obliged to tell the
+truth," said the squire.
+
+"He done give me the order from the judge of the co't--I was to
+show it to Bob Yancy--"
+
+"Got that order?" demanded the squire sharply.  With a smile,
+damaged, but clearly a smile, Blount produced the order.  Hmm
+--app'inted guardeen of the boy--" the squire was presently heard
+to murmur.  The crowded room was very still now, and more than
+one pair of eyes were turned pityingly in Yancy's direction.
+When the long arm of the law reached out from Fayetteville, where
+there was a real judge and a real sheriff, it clothed itself with
+very special terrors.  The boy looked up into Yancy's face.  That
+tense silence had struck a chill through his heart.
+
+"It's all right," whispered Yancy reassuringly, smiling down upon
+him.  And Hannibal, comforted, smiled back, and nestled his head
+against his Uncle Bob's side.
+
+"Well, Mr. Blount, what did you do with this here order?" asked
+the squire.
+
+"I went with it to Scratch Hill," said Blount.
+
+"And showed it to Bob Yancy ?" asked the squire.
+
+"No, he wa'n't there.  But the boy was, and I took him in my
+buggy and drove off.  I'd got as far as the Ox Road forks when I
+met Yancy--"
+
+"What happened then?--but a body don't need to ask!  Looks like
+the law was all you had on your side!" and the squire glanced
+waggishly about the room.
+
+"I showed Yancy the order--"
+
+"You lie, Dave Blount; you didn't!" said Yancy.  "But I can't say
+as it would have made no difference, Squire.  He'd have taken his
+licking just the same and I'd have had my nevvy out of that
+buggy!"
+
+"Didn't he say nothing about this here order from the colt, Bob?"
+
+"There wa'n't much conversation, Squire.  I invited my nevvy to
+light down, and then I snaked Dave Blount out over the wheel."
+
+"Who struck the first blow?"
+
+"He did.  He struck at me with his buggy whip."
+
+"What you got to say to this, Mr. Blount?" asked the squire.
+
+"I say I showed him the order like I said," answered Blount
+doggedly.  Squire Balaam removed his spectacles and leaned back
+in his chair.
+
+"It's the opinion of this here co't that the whole question of
+assault rests on whether Bob Yancy saw the order.  Bob Yancy
+swears he didn't see it, while Dave Blount swears he showed it to
+him.  If Bob Yancy didn't know of the existence of the order he
+was clearly actin' on the idea that Blount was stealin' his
+nevvy, and he done what any one would have done under the
+circumstances.  If, on the other hand, he knowed of this order
+from the co't, he was not only guilty of assault, but he was
+guilty of resistin' an officer of the co't."  The squire paused
+impressively.  His audience drew a long breath.  The impression
+prevailed that the case was going against Yancy, and more than
+one face was turned scowlingly on the fat little justice.
+
+"Can a body drap a word here?"  It was Uncle Sammy's thin voice
+that cut into the silence.
+
+"Certainly, Uncle Sammy.  This here co't will always admire to
+listen to you."
+
+"Well, I'd like to say that I consider that Fayetteville co't
+mighty officious with its orders.  This part of the county won't
+take nothin' off Fayetteville!  We don't interfere with
+Fayetteville, and blamed if we'll let Fayetteville interfere with
+us!"  There was a murmur of approval.  Scratch Hill remembered
+the rifles in its hands and took comfort.
+
+"The Fayetteville co't air a higher co't than this, Uncle Sammy,"
+explained the squire indulgently.
+
+"I'm aweer of that," snapped the patriarch.  "I've seen hit's
+steeple."
+
+"Air you finished, Uncle Sammy?" asked the squire deferentially.
+
+"I 'low I am.  But I 'low that if this here case is goin' agin
+Bob Yancy I'd recommend him to go home and not listen to no mo'
+foolishness."
+
+"Mr. Yancy will oblige this co't by setting still while I finish
+this case," said the squire with dignity.  "As I've already
+p'inted out, the question of veracity presents itself strongly to
+the mind of this here colt.  Mr. Yancy has sworn to one thing,
+Mr. Blount to another.
+Now the Yancys air an old family in these parts; Mr. Blount's
+folks air strangers, but we don't know nothing agin them--"
+
+"And we don't know nothing in their favor," Uncle Sammy
+interjected.
+
+"Dave's grandfather came here from Virginia about fifty years
+back and settled near Scratch Hill--"
+
+"We never knowed why he left Virginia or why he came here," said
+Uncle Sammy, and knowing what local feeling was, was sure he had
+shot a telling bolt.
+
+"Then, about twenty-five years ago Dave's father pulled up and
+went to Fayetteville.  Nobody ever knowed why--and I don't
+remember that he ever offered any explanation--" continued the
+squire.
+
+"He didn't--he just left," said Uncle Sammy.
+
+"Consequently," pursued the squire, somewhat vindictively, "we
+ain't had any time in which to form an opinion of the Blounts;
+but for myself, I'm suspicious of folks that keep movin' about
+and who don't seem able to get located permanent nowheres, who
+air here to-day and away tomorrow.  But you can't say that of the
+Yancys.  They air an old family in the country, and naturally
+this co't feels obliged to accept a Yancy's word before the word
+of a stranger.  And in view of the fact that the defendant did
+not seek litigation, but was perfectly satisfied to let matters
+rest where they was, it is right and just that all costs should
+fall on the plaintiff."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE ENCOUNTER
+
+
+Betty Malroy had ridden into the squire's yard during the
+progress of the trial and when Yancy and Hannibal came from the
+house she beckoned the Scratch Hiller to her.  She was aware that
+Mr. Yancy, moving along the line of least industrial resistance,
+might be counted of little worth in any broad scheme of life.
+Nat Ferris had strongly insisted on this point, as had Judith,
+who shared her husband's convictions; consequently, the rumors of
+his present difficulty had merely excited them to adverse
+criticism.  They had been sure the best thing that could happen
+the boy would be his removal from Yancy's guardianship, but this
+was not at all her conclusion.  She considered Mr. Bladen
+heartless and his course without justification, and she regarded
+Yancy's affection for the boy as in itself constituting a benefit
+that quite outweighed his unprogressive example.
+
+"You are not going to lose your nephew, are you, Mr. Yancy?" she
+asked eagerly, when Yancy stood at her side.
+
+"No, ma'am."  But his sense of elation was plainly tempered by
+the knowledge that for him the future held more than one knotty
+problem.
+
+"I am very glad!  I know Hannibal will be much happier with you
+than with any one else," and she smiled brightly at the boy,
+whose small sunburned face was upturned to hers.
+
+"I think that-a-ways myself, Miss Betty, but this trial was only
+for my smacking Dave Blount, who was trying to steal my nevvy,"
+explained Yancy.
+
+"I hope you smacked him well and hard!" said the girl, whose mood
+was warlike.
+
+"I ain't got no cause to complain, thank you," returned Mr. Yancy
+pleasantly.
+
+"I rode out to the Hill to say good-by to Hannibal and to you,
+but they said you were here and that the trial was today."
+
+Captain Murrell, with Crenshaw and the squire, came from the
+house, and Murrell's swarthy face lit up at sight of the girl.
+Yancy, sensible of the gulf that yawned between himself and what
+was known as "the quality," would have yielded his place, but
+Betty detained him.
+
+"Are you going away, ma'am?" he asked with concern.
+
+"Yes--to my home in west Tennessee," and a cloud crossed her
+smooth brow.
+
+"That surely is a right big distance for you to travel, ma'am,"
+said Yancy, his mind opening to this fresh impression.  "I reckon
+it's rising a hundred miles or mo'," he concluded, at a venture.
+
+"It's almost a thousand."
+
+"Think of that!  And you are that ca'm!" cried Yancy admiringly,
+as a picture of simply stupendous effort offered itself to his
+mind's eye.  He added: "I am mighty sorry you are going.  We-all
+here shall miss you--specially Hannibal.  He just regularly pines
+for Sunday as it is."
+
+"I hope he will miss me a little--I'm afraid I want him to!"  She
+glanced down at the boy as she spoke, and into her eyes, very
+clear and very blue and shaded by long dark lashes, stole a look
+of wistful tenderness.  She noted how his little hand was clasped
+in Yancy's, she realized the perfect trust of his whole attitude
+toward this big bearded man, and she was conscious of a sudden
+feeling of profound respect for the Scratch Hiller.
+
+"But ain't you ever coming back, Miss Betty?" asked Hannibal
+rather fearfully, smitten with the awesome sense of impermanence
+which dogs our footsteps.
+
+"Oh, I hope so, dear--I wish to think so.  But you see my home is
+not here."  She turned to Yancy, "So it is settled that he is to
+remain with you?"
+
+"Not exactly, Miss Betty.  You see, there's an order from the
+Fayetteville co't fo' me to give him up to this man Bladen."
+
+"But Uncle Bob says--" began Hannibal, who considered his Uncle
+Bob's remarks on this point worth quoting.
+
+"Never mind what yo' Uncle Bob said," interrupted Yancy hastily.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Yancy, you are not going to surrender him--no matter
+what the court says!" cried Betty.  The expression on Yancy's
+face was so grim and determined on the instant with the latent
+fire that was in him flashing from his eyes that she added
+quickly, "You know the law is for you as well as for Mr. Bladen!"
+
+"I reckon I won't bother the law none," responded Yancy briefly.
+"Me and my nevvy will go back to Scratch Hill and there won't be
+no trouble so long as they leave us be.  But them Fayetteville
+folks want to keep away--"  The fierce light slowly died out of
+his eyes.  "It'll be all right, ma'am, and it's mighty good and
+kind of you fo' to feel the way you do.  I'm obliged to you."
+
+But Betty was by no means sure of the outcome Yancy seemed to
+predict with such confidence.  Unless Bladen abandoned his
+purpose, which he was not likely to do, a tragedy was clearly
+pending for Scratch Hill.  She saw the boy left friendless, she
+saw Yancy the victim of his own primitive conception of justice.
+Therefore she said:
+
+"I wonder you don't leave the Hill, Mr. Yancy.  You could so
+easily go where Mr. Bladen would never find you.  Haven't you
+thought of this?"
+
+"That are a p'int," agreed Yancy slowly.  "Might I ask what parts
+you'd specially recommend?" lifting his grave eyes to hers.
+
+"It would really be the sensible thing to do!" said Betty.  "I am
+sure you would like West Tennessee--they say you are a great
+hunter."  Yancy smiled almost guiltily.
+
+"I like a little spo't now and then yes, ma'am, I do hunt some,"
+he admitted.
+
+"Miss Betty, Uncle Bob's the best shot we got!  You had ought to
+see him shoot!" said Hannibal.
+
+"Mr. Yancy, if you should cross the mountains, remember I live
+near Memphis.  Belle Plain is the name of the plantation--it's
+not hard to find; just don't forget--Belle Plain."
+
+"I won't forget, and mebby you will see us there one of these
+days.  Sho', I've seen mighty little of the world--about as far
+as a dog can trot it a couple of hours!"
+
+"Just think what it will mean to Hannibal if you become involved
+further with Mr. Bladen."  Betty spoke earnestly, bending toward
+him, and Yancy understood the meaning that lay back of her words.
+
+"I've thought of that, too," the Scratch Hiller answered
+seriously.  Betty glanced toward the squire and Mr. Crenshaw.
+They were standing near the bars that gave entrance to the lane.
+Murrell had left them and was walking briskly down the road
+toward Crenshaw's store where his horse was tied.  She bent down
+and gave Yancy her slim white hand.
+
+"Good-by, Mr. Yancy--lift Hannibal so that I can kiss him!"
+Yancy swung the child aloft.  "I think you are such a nice little
+boy, Hannibal--you mustn't forget me!"  And touching her horse
+lightly with the whip she rode away at a gallop.
+
+"She sho'ly is a lady!" said Yancy, staring after her.  "And we
+mustn't forget Memphis or Belle Plain, Nevvy."
+
+Crenshaw and the squire approached.
+
+"Bob," said the merchant, "Bladen's going to have the boy--but he
+made a mistake in putting this business in the hands of a fool
+like Dave Blount.  I reckon he knows that now."
+
+"I reckon his next move will be to send a posse of gun-toters up
+from Fayetteville," said the squire.
+
+"That's just what he'll do," agreed Crenshaw, and looked
+disturbed.
+
+"They certainly air an unpeaceable lot--them Fayetteville folks!
+It's always seemed to me they had a positive spite agin this end
+of the county," said the squire, and he pocketed his spectacles
+and refreshed himself with a chew of tobacco.  "Bladen ain't
+actin' right, Bob.  It's a year and upwards since the old general
+'died.  He let you go on thinking the boy was to stay with you
+and now he takes a notion to have him!"
+
+"No, sir, it ain't right nor reasonable.  And what's more, he
+shan't have him!" said Yancy, and his tone was final.
+
+"I don't know what kind of a mess you're getting yourself into,
+Bob, I declare I don't!" cried Crenshaw, who felt that he was
+largely responsible for the whole situation.
+
+"Looks like your neighbors would stand by you," suggested the
+squire.
+
+"I don't want them to stand by me.  It'll only get them into
+trouble, and I ain't going to do that," rejoined Yancy, and
+lapsed into momentary silence.  Then he resumed meditatively,
+"There was old Baldy Ebersole who shot the sheriff when they
+tried to arrest him for getting drunk down in Fayetteville and
+licking the tavern-keeper--"
+
+"Sho', there wa'n't no harm in Baldy!" said the squire, with
+heat.  "When that sheriff come along here looking for him, I told
+him p'inted that Baldy said he wouldn't be arrested.  A more
+truthful man I never knowed, and if the damn fool had taken my
+word he'd be living yet!"
+
+"But you-all know what trouble killing that sheriff made fo'
+Baldy!" said Yancy.  "He told me often he regretted it mo' than
+anything he'd ever done.  He said it was most aggravatin' having
+to always lug a gun wherever he went.  And what with being
+suspicious of strangers when he wa'n't suspicious by nature, he
+reckoned in time it would just naturally wear him out."
+
+"He stood it until he was risin' eighty," said Crenshaw.
+
+"His, father lived to be ninety, John, and as spry an old
+gentleman as a body'd wish to see.  I don't uphold no man for
+committing murder, but I do consider the sheriff should have
+waited on Baldy to get mo' reasonable, like he'd done in time if
+they'd just let him alone--but no, sir, he reckoned the law
+wa'n't no respecter of persons.  He was a fine-appearin' man,
+that sheriff, and just elected to office.  I remember we had to
+leave off the tail-gate to my cart to accommodate him.  Yes, sir,
+they pretty near pestered Baldy into his grave--and seein' that
+pore old fellow pottering around year after year always toting a
+gun was the patheticest sight I most ever seen, and I made up my
+mind then if it ever seemed necessary for me to kill a man, I'd
+leave the county or maybe the state," concluded the squire.
+
+"Don't you reckon it would be some better to leave the state afo'
+you.  done the killing?" suggested Yancy.
+
+"Well, a man might.  I don't know but what he'd be justified in
+getting shut of his troubles like that."
+
+When Betty Malroy rode away from Squire Balaam's Murrell galloped
+after her.  Presently she heard the beat of his horse's hoofs as
+he came pounding along the sandy road and glanced back over her
+shoulder.  With an exclamation of displeasure she reined in her
+horse.  She had not wished to ride to the Barony with him, yet
+she had no desire to treat him with discourtesy, especially as
+the Ferrises were disposed to like him.  Murrell quickly gained a
+place at her side.
+
+"I suppose Ferris is at the Barony?" he said, drawing his horse
+down to a walk.
+
+"I believe he is," said Betty with a curt little air.
+
+"May I ride with you?" he gave her a swift glance.  She nodded
+indifferently and would have urged her horse into a gallop again,
+but he made a gesture of protest.  "Don't--or I shall think you
+are still running away from me," he said with a short laugh.
+
+"Were you at the trial?" she asked.  "I am glad they didn't get
+Hannibal away from Yancy."
+
+"Oh, Yancy will have his hands full with that later--so will
+Bladen," he added significantly.  He studied her out of those
+deeply sunken eyes of his in which no shadow of youth lingered,
+for men such as he reached their prime early, and it was a
+swiftly passing splendor.  "Ferris tells me you are going to West
+Tennessee?" he said at length.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I know your half-brother, Tom Ware--I know him very well."
+There was another brief silence.
+
+"So you know Tom?" she presently observed, and frowned slightly.
+Tom was her guardian, and her memories of him were not
+satisfactory.  A burly, unshaven man with a queer streak of
+meanness through his character.  She had not seen him since she
+had been sent north to Philadelphia, and their intercourse had
+been limited to infrequent letters.  His always smelled of
+strong, stale tobacco, and the well-remembered whine in the man's
+voice ran through his written sentences.
+
+"You've spent much of your time up North?" suggested Murrell.
+
+"Four years.  I've been at school, you know.  That's where I met
+Judith."
+
+"I hope you'll like West Tennessee.  It's still a bit raw
+compared with what you've been accustomed to in the North.  You
+haven't been back in all those four years?" Betty shook her head.
+"Nor seen Tom--nor any one from out yonder?"  For some reason a
+little tinge of color had crept into Betty's cheeks.  "Will you
+let me renew our acquaintance at Belle Plain?  I shall be in West
+Tennessee before the summer is over; probably I shall leave here
+within a week," he said, bending toward her.  His glance dwelt on
+her face and the pliant lines of her figure, and his sense swam.
+Since their first meeting the girl's beauty had haunted and
+allured him; with his passionate sense of life he was disposed to
+these violent fancies, and he had a masterful way with women just
+as he had a masterful way with men.  Now, however, he was aware
+that he was viewed with entire indifference.  His vanity, which
+was his whole inner self, was hurt, and from the black depths of
+his nature his towering egotism flashed out lawless and perverted
+impulses.  "I must tell you that I am not of your sort, Miss
+Malroy--" he continued hurriedly.  "My people were plain folk out
+of the mountains.  For what I am I have no one to thank but
+myself.  You must be aware of the prejudices of the planter
+class, for it is your class.  Perhaps I haven't been quite frank
+at the Barony--I felt it was asking too much when you were there.
+That was a door I didn't want closed to me!"
+
+"I imagine you will be welcome at Belle Plain.  You are Tom's
+friend."  Murrell bit his lip, and then laughed as his mind
+conjured up a picture of the cherished Tom.  Suddenly he reached
+out and rested his hand on hers.  He lived in the shadow of
+chance not always kind, his pleasures were intoxicating drafts
+snatched in the midst of dangers, and here was youth, sweet and
+perfect, that only needed awakening.
+
+"Betty--if I might think--" he began, but his tongue stumbled.
+His love-making was usually of a savage sort, but some quality in
+the girl held him in check.  The words he had spoken many times
+before forsook him.  Betty drew away from him, an angry color on
+her cheeks and an angry light in her eyes.  "Forgive me, Betty!"
+muttered Murrell, but his heart beat against his ribs, and
+passion sent its surges through him.  "Don't you know what I'm
+trying to tell you?" he whispered.  Betty gathered up her reins.
+"Not yet--" he cried, and again he rested a heavy hand on hers.
+"Don't you know what's kept me here?  It was to be near you--only
+that--I've been waiting for this chance to speak.  It was long in
+coming, but it's here now--and it's mine!" he exulted.  His eyes
+burned with a luminous fire, he urged his horse nearer and they
+came to a halt.  "Look here--I'll follow you North--I swear I
+love you--say I may!"
+
+"Let me go--let me go!" cried Betty indignantly.
+
+"No--not yet!" he urged his horse still nearer and gathered her
+close.  "You've got to hear me.  I've loved you since the first
+moment I rested my eyes on you--and, by God, you shall love me in
+return!"  He felt her struggle to free herself from his grasp
+with a sense of savage triumph.  It was the brute force within
+him that conquered with women just as it conquered with men.
+
+Bruce Carrington, on his way back to Fayetteville from the Forks,
+came about a turn in the road.  Betty saw a tall, handsome fellow
+in the first flush of manhood; Carrington, an angry girl, very
+beautiful and very indignant, struggling in a man's grasp.
+
+At sight of the new-comer, Murrell, with an oath, released Betty,
+who, striking her horse with the whip galloped down the road
+toward the Barony.  As she fled past Carrington she bent low in
+her saddle.
+
+"Don't let him follow me!" she gasped, and Carrington, striding
+forward, caught Murrell's horse by the bit.
+
+"Not so fast, you!" he said coolly.  The two men glared at each
+other for a brief instant.
+
+"Take your hand off my horse!" exclaimed Murrell hoarsely, his
+mouth hot and dry with a sense of defeat.
+
+"Can't you see she'd rather be alone?" said Carrington.
+
+"Let go!" roared Murrell, and a murderous light shot from his
+eyes.
+
+"I don't know but I should pull you out of that saddle and twist
+your neck!" said Carrington hotly.  Murrell's face underwent a
+swift change.
+
+"You're a bold fellow to force your way into a lover's quarrel,"
+he said quietly.  Carrington's arm dropped at his side.  Perhaps,
+after all, it was that.  Murrell thrust his hand into his pocket.
+"I always give something to the boy who holds my horse," he said,
+and tossed a coin in Carrington's direction.  "There--take that
+for your pains!" he added.  He pulled his horse about and rode
+back toward the cross-roads at an easy canter.
+
+Carrington, with an angry flush on his sunburnt cheeks, stood
+staring down at the coin that glinted in the dusty road, but he
+was seeing the face of the girl, indignant, beautiful--then he
+glanced after Murrell.
+
+"I reckon I ought to have twisted his neck," he said with a deep
+breath.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+BETTY SETS OUT FOR TENNESSEE
+
+
+Bruce Carrington came of a westward-looking race.  From the low
+coast where they had first settled, those of his name had
+followed the rivers to their headwaters.  The headwaters had sent
+them forth toward the foot-hills, where they made their,
+clearings and built their cabins in the shadow of the blue wall
+that for a time marked the furthest goal of their desires.  But
+only for a time.  Crossing the mountains they found the
+headwaters once more, and following the streams out of the hills
+saw the roaring torrents become great placid rivers.
+
+Carrington's father had put the mountains at his back thirty
+years before.  The Watauga settlements had furnished him a wife,
+and some four years later Bruce was born on the banks of the
+Ohio.  The senior Carrington had appeared on horseback as a
+wooer, but had walked on foot as a married man, each shift of
+residence he made having represented a descent to a lower social
+level.  On the death of his wife he had embarked in the river
+trade with all that enthusiasm and hope he had brought to
+half-a-dozen other occupations, for he was a gentleman of
+prodigious energy.
+
+Bruce's first memories had to do with long nights when he perched
+beside his father on the cabin roof of their keel-boat and
+watched the stars, or the blurred line of the shore where it lay
+against the sky, or the lights on other barges and rafts drifting
+as they were drifting, with their wheat and corn and whisky to
+that common market at the river's mouth.
+
+Sometimes they dragged their boat back up-stream, painfully,
+laboriously; three or four months of unremitting toil sufficed
+for this, when the crew sweated at the towing ropes from dawn
+until dark, that the rich planters in Kentucky and Tennessee
+might have tea and wine for their tables, and silks and laces for
+their womenfolk.  More often they abandoned their boat and
+tramped north, armed and watchful, since cutthroats and robbers
+haunted the roads, and river-men, if they had not drunk away
+their last dollar in New Orleans, were worth spoiling.  Or, if it
+offered, they took passage on some fast sailing clipper bound for
+Baltimore or Philadelphia, and crossed the mountains to the Ohio
+and were within a week or two of home.
+
+Bruce Carrington had seen the day of barge and raft reach its
+zenith, had heard the first steam packet's shrieking whistle
+which sounded the death-knell of the ancient order, though the
+shifting of the trade was a slow matter and the glory of the old
+did not pass over to the new at once, but lingered still in
+mighty fleets of rafts and keel-boats and in the Homeric
+carousals of some ten thousand of the half-horse, half-alligator
+breed that nightly gathered in New Orleans.  Broad-horns and
+mud-sills they were called in derision.  A strange race of
+aquatic pioneers, jeans and leather clad, the rifle and the
+setting-pole equally theirs, they came out of every stream down
+which a scow could be thrust at flood-time; from tiny settlements
+far back among the hills; from those bustling sinks of iniquity,
+the river towns.  But now, surely, yet almost imperceptibly,
+their commerce was slipping from them.  At all the landings they
+were being elbowed by the newcomers--men who wore brass buttons
+and gold braid, and shiny leather shoes instead of moccasins; men
+with white hands and gold rings on their fingers and diamonds in
+their shirts--men whose hair and clothing kept the rancid smell
+of oil and smoke and machinery.
+
+After the reading of the warrant that morning, Charley Balaam had
+shown Carrington the road to the Forks, assuring him when they
+separated that with a little care and decent use of his eyes it
+would be possible to fetch up there and not pass plumb through
+the settlement without knowing where he was.  But Carrington had
+found the Forks without difficulty.  He had seen the old mill his
+grandfather had built almost a hundred years before, and in the
+churchyard he had found the graves and read the inscriptions that
+recorded the virtues of certain dead and gone Carringtons.  It
+had all seemed a very respectable link with the past.
+
+He was on his way to Fayetteville, where he intended to spend the
+night, and perhaps a day or two in looking around, when the
+meeting with Betty and Murrell occurred.  As Murrell disappeared
+in the direction of Balaam's, Carrington took a spiteful kick at
+the unoffending coin, and strode off down the Fayetteville pike.
+But the girl's face remained with him.  It was a face he would
+like to see again.  He wondered who she was, and if she lived in
+the big house on the other road, the house beyond the red gate
+which Charley Balaam had told him was called the Barony.
+
+He was still thinking of the girl when he ate his supper that
+night at Cleggett's Tavern.  Later, in the bar, he engaged his
+host in idle gossip.  Mr. Cleggett knew all about the Barony and
+its owner, Nat Ferris.  Ferris was a youngish man, just married.
+Carrington experienced a quick sinking of the heart.  A fleeting
+sense of humor succeeded--had he interfered between man and wife?
+But surely if this had been the case the girl would not have
+spoken as she had.
+
+He wound Mr. Cleggett up with sundry pegs of strong New England
+rum.  He had met a gentleman and lady on the road that day; he
+wondered, as he toyed with his glass, if it could have been the
+Ferrises?  Mounted?  Yes, mounted.  Then it was Ferris and his
+wife--or it might have been Captain Murrell and Miss Malroy the
+captain was a strapping, black-haired chap who rode a big bay
+horse.  Miss Malroy did not live in that part of the country; she
+was a friend of Mrs. Ferris', belonged in Kentucky or Tennessee,
+or somewhere out yonder--at any rate she was bringing her visit
+to an end, for Ferris had instructed him to reserve a place for
+her in the north-bound stage on the morrow.
+
+Carrington suddenly remembered that he had some thought of
+starting north in the morning himself, but he was still
+undecided.  How about it if he deferred his decision until the
+stage was leaving?  Mr. Cleggett consulted his bookings and was
+of the opinion that his chances would not be good; and Carrington
+hastily paid down his money.  Later in the privacy of his own
+room he remarked meditatively, viewing his reflection in the
+mirror that hung above the chimneypiece, "I reckon you're plain
+crazy!" and seemed to free himself from all further
+responsibility for his own acts whatever they might be.
+
+The stage left at six, and as Carrington climbed to his seat the
+next morning Mr. Cleggett was advising the driver to look sharp
+when he came to the Barony road, as he was to pick up a party
+there.  It was Carrington who looked sharp, and almost at the
+spot where he had seen Betty Malroy the day before he saw her
+again, with Ferris and Judith and a pile of luggage bestowed by
+the wayside.  Betty did not observe him as the coach stopped, for
+she was intent on her farewells with her friends.  There were
+hasty words of advice from Ferris, prolonged good-byes to Judith,
+tears--kisses--while a place was being made for her many boxes
+and trunks.  Carrington viewed the luggage with awe, and listened
+without shame.  He gathered that she was going north to
+Washington; that her final destination was some point either on
+the Ohio or Mississippi, and that her name was Betty.  Then the
+door slammed and the stage was in motion again.
+
+Carrington felt sensibly enriched by the meager facts now in his
+possession.  He was especially interested in her name.  Be liked
+the sound of it.  It suited her.  He even tried it under his
+breath softly.  Betty--Betty Malroy--next he fell to wondering if
+those few hurried words she had addressed to him could possibly
+be construed as forming a basis for a further acquaintance.  Or
+wasn't it far more likely she would prefer to forget the episode
+of the previous day, which had clearly been anything but
+agreeable?
+
+All through the morning they swung forward in the heat and dust
+and glare, with now and then a brief pause when they changed
+horses, and at midday rattled into the shaded main street of a
+sleepy village and drew up before the tavern where dinner was
+waiting them--a fact that was announced by a bare-legged colored
+boy armed with a club, who beat upon a suspended wagon tire.
+
+Betty saw Carrington when she took her seat, and gave a scarcely
+perceptible start of surprise.  Then her face was flooded with a
+rich color.  This was the man who saw her with Captain Murrell
+yesterday I What must he think of her!  There was a brief moment
+of irresolution and then she bowed coldly.
+
+"You just barely managed it.  I reckon nobody could misunderstand
+that.  By no means cordial--but of course not!" Carrington
+reflected.  His own handsome face had been expressionless when he
+returned her bow, and Betty could not have guessed how consoled
+and comforted he was by it.  With great fortitude and self-denial
+he forbore to look in her direction again, but he lingered at the
+table until the last moment that he might watch her when she
+returned to the coach.  Mr. Carrington entertained ideals where
+women were concerned, and even though he had been the one to
+profit by it he would not have had Betty depart in the minutest
+particular from those stringent rules he laid down for her sex.
+Consequently that distant air she bore toward him filled him with
+satisfaction.  It was quite enough for the present--for the
+present--that three times each day his perseverance and
+determination were rewarded by that curt little acknowledgment of
+her indebtedness to him.
+
+It was four days to Richmond.  Four days of hot, dusty travel,
+four nights of uncomfortable cross-road stations, where Betty
+suffered sleepless nights and the unaccustomed pangs of early
+rising.  She occasionally found herself wondering who Carrington
+was.  She approved of the manner in which he conducted himself.
+She liked a man who could be unobtrusive.  Traveling like that
+day after day it would have been so easy for him to be officious.
+But he never addressed her and refused to see any opportunity to
+assist her in entering or quitting the stage, leaving that to
+some one else.  Presently she was sorry she had bowed to him that
+first day--so self-contained and unpresuming a person as he would
+evidently have been quite satisfied to overlook the omission.
+Then she began to be haunted by doubts.  Perhaps, after all, he
+had not recognized her as the girl he had met in the road!  This
+gave her a very queer feeling indeed--for what must he think of
+her?  And the next time she bowed to this perfect stranger she
+threw a chilling austerity into the salutation quite at variance
+with her appearance, for the windy drive had tangled her hair and
+blown it in curling wisps about her face.  This served to trouble
+Carrington excessively, and furnished him with food for
+reflection through all his waking moments for the succeeding
+eight and forty hours.
+
+The next morning he found himself seated opposite her at
+breakfast.  He received another curt little nod, cool and
+distant, as he took his seat, but he felt strongly that a mere
+bowing acquaintance would no longer suffice; so he passed her a
+number of things she didn't want, and presently ventured the
+opinion that she must find traveling as they were, day after day,
+very fatiguing.  Surprised at the sound of his voice, before she
+knew what she was doing, Betty said, "Not at all," closed her red
+lips, and was immediatelv dumb.
+
+Carrington at once relapsed into silence and ventured no further
+opinion on any topic.  Betty was left wondering whether she had
+been rude, and when they met again asked if the stage would reach
+Washington at the advertised hour.  She had been consulting the
+copy of Badger's and Porter's Register which Ferris had thrust
+into her satchel the morning she left the Barony, and which,
+among a multiplicity of detail as to hotels and taverns, gave the
+runnings of all the regular stage lines, packets, canal-boats and
+steamers, by which one could travel over the length and breadth
+of the land.
+"You stop in Washington?" said Carrington.
+
+Betty shook her head.  "No, I am going on to Wheeling."
+
+"You're fortunate in being so nearly home," he observed.  "I am
+going on to Memphis."  He felt it was time she knew this, or else
+she might think his movements were dictated by her own.
+
+Betty exclaimed: "Why, I am going to Memphis, too!"
+
+"Are you?  By canal to Cumberland, and then by stage over the
+National Road to Wheeling?"
+
+Betty nodded.  "It makes one wish they'd finish their railroads,
+doesn't it?  Do you suppose they'll ever get as far west as
+Memphis?" she said.
+
+"They say it's going to be bad for the river trade when they're
+built on something besides paper," answered Carrington.  "And I
+happen to be a flatboat-man, Miss Malroy."
+
+Betty gave him a glance of surprise.
+
+"Why, how did you learn my name?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, I heard your friends speak it," he answered glibly.  But
+Betty's smooth brow was puckered thoughtfully.  She wondered if
+he had--and if he hadn't.  It was very odd certainly that he
+should know it.
+
+"So the railroads are going to hurt the steamboats?" she
+presently said.
+
+"No, I didn't say that.  I was thinking of the flatboats that
+have already been hurt by the steamers," he replied.  Now to the
+western mind the river-men typified all that was reckless and
+wild.  It was their carousals that gave an evil repute to such
+towns as Natchez.  But this particular river-man looked harmless.
+"Carrington is my name, Miss Malroy," he added.
+
+No more was said just then, for Betty became reserved and he did
+not attempt to resume the conversation.  A day later they rumbled
+into Washington, and as Betty descended from the coach,
+Carrington stepped to her side.
+
+"I suppose you'll stop here, Miss Malroy?" he said, indicating
+the tavern before which the stage had come to a stand.
+"Yes," said Betty briefly.
+
+"If I can be of any service to you--" he began, with just a touch
+of awkwardness in his manner.
+
+"No, I thank you, Mr. Carrington," said Betty quickly.
+
+"Good night . . . good-by," he turned away, and Betty saw his
+tall form disappear in the twilight.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE FIGHT AT SLOSSON'S TAVERN
+
+
+Murrell had ridden out of the hills some hours back.  He now
+faced the flashing splendors of a June sunset, but along the
+eastern horizon the mountains rose against a somber sky.  Night
+was creeping into their fastnesses.  Already there was twilight
+in those cool valleys lying within the shadow of mighty hills.  A
+month and more had elapsed since Bob Yancy's trial.  Just two
+days later man and boy disappeared from Scratch Hill.  This had
+served to rouse Murrell to the need of immediate action, but he
+found, where Yancy was concerned, Scratch Hill could keep a
+secret, while Crenshaw's mouth was closed on any word that might
+throw light on the plans of his friend.
+
+"It's plain to my mind, Captain, that Bladen will never get the
+boy.  I reckon Bob's gone into hiding with him," said the
+merchant, with spacious candor.
+
+The fugitives had not gone into hiding, however; they had
+traversed the state from east to west, and Murrell was soon on
+their trail and pressing forward in pursuit.  Reaching the
+mountains, he heard of them first as ten days ahead of him and
+bound for west Tennessee, the ten days dwindled to a week, the
+week became five days, the five days three; and now as he emerged
+from the last range of hills he caught sight of them.  They were
+half a mile distant perhaps, but he was certain that the man and
+boy he saw pass about a turn in the road were the man and boy he
+had been following for a month.
+
+He was not mistaken.  The man was Bob Yancy and the boy was
+Hannibal.  Yancy had acted with extraordinary decision.  He had
+sold his few acres at Scratch Hill for a lump sum to Crenshaw--it
+was to the latter's credit that the transaction was one in which
+he could feel no real pride as a man of business--and just a day
+later Yancy and the boy had quitted Scratch Hill in the gray
+dawn, and turned their faces westward.  Tennessee had become
+their objective point, since here was a region to which they
+could fix a name, while the rest of the world was strange to
+them.  As they passed the turn in the road where Murrell had
+caught his first sight of them, Yancy glanced back at the blue
+wall of the mountains where it lay along the horizon.
+
+"Well, Nevvy," he said, "we've put a heap of distance between us
+and old Scratch Hill; all I can say is, if there's as much the
+other side of the Hill as there is this side, the world's a
+monstrous big place fo' to ramble about in."  He carried his
+rifle and a heavy pack.  Hannibal had a much smaller pack and his
+old sporting rifle, burdens of which his Uncle Bob relieved him
+at brief intervals.
+
+For the past ten days their journey had been conducted in a
+leisurely fashion.  As Yancy said, they were seeing the world,
+and it was well to take a good look at it while they had a
+chance.  He was no longer fearful of pursuit and his temperament
+asserted itself--the minimum of activity sufficed.  Usually they
+camped just where the night overtook them; now and then they
+varied this by lodging at some tavern, for since there was money
+in his pocket, Yancy was disposed to spend it.  He could not
+conceive that it had any other possible use.
+
+Suddenly out of the silence carne the regular beat of hoofs.
+These grew nearer and nearer, and at last when they were quite
+close, Yancy faced about.  He instantly recognized Murrell and
+dropped his rifle into the crook of his arm.  The act was
+instinctive, since there was no reason to believe that the
+captain had the least interest in the boy.  Smilingly Murrell
+reined in his horse.
+
+"Why--Bob Yancy!" he cried, in apparent astonishment.
+
+"Yes, sir--Bob Yancy.  Does it happen you are looking fo' him,
+Captain?" inquired Yancy.
+
+"No--no, Bob.  I'm on my way West.  Shake hands."  His manner was
+frank and winning, and Yancy met it with an equal frankness.
+
+"Well, sir, me and my nevvy are glad to meet some one we've
+knowed afore.  The world are a lonesome place once you get shut
+of yo'r own dooryard," he said.  Murrell slipped from his saddle
+and fell into step at Yancy's side as they moved forward.
+
+"They were mightily stirred up at the Cross Roads when I left,
+wondering what had come of you," he observed.
+
+"When did you quit there?" asked Yancy.
+
+"About a fortnight ago," said Murrell.  "Every one approves of
+your action in this matter, Yancy," he went on.
+
+"That's kind of them," responded Yancy, a little dryly.  There
+was no reason for it, but he was becoming distrustful of Murrell,
+and uneasy.
+
+"Bladen's hurt himself by the stand he's taken it this matter,"
+Murrell added.
+
+They went forward in silence, Yancy brooding and suspicious.  For
+the last mile or so their way had led through an unbroken forest,
+but a sudden turn in the road brought them to the edge of an
+extensive clearing.  Close to the road were several buildings,
+but not a tree had been spared to shelter them and they stood
+forth starkly, the completing touch to a civilization that was
+still in its youth, unkempt, rather savage, and ruthlessly
+utilitarian.  A sign, the work of inexpert hands, announced the
+somewhat dingy structure of hewn logs that stood nearest the
+roadside a tavern.  There was a horse rack in front of it and a
+trampled space.  It was flanked by its several sheds and barns on
+one hand and a woodpile on the other.  Beyond the woodpile a rail
+fence inclosed a corn-field, and beyond the barns and sheds a
+similar fence defined the bounds of a stumpy pasture-lot.
+
+From the door of the tavern the figure of a man emerged.  Pausing
+by the horse rack he surveyed the two men and boy, if not with
+indifference, at least with apathy.  Just above his head swung
+the sign with its legend, Slosson--Entertainment;" but if he were
+Slosson, one could take the last half of the sign either as a
+poetic rhapsody on the part of the painter, or the yielding to
+some meaningless convention, for in his person, Mr. Slosson
+suggested none of those qualities of brain or heart that trenched
+upon the lighter amenities of life.  He was black-haired and
+bull-necked, and there was about him a certain shagginess which a
+recent toilet performed at the horse trough had not served to
+mitigate.
+
+"Howdy?" he drawled.
+
+"Howdy?" responded Mr. Yancy.
+
+"Shall you stop here?" asked Murrell, sinking his voice.  Yancy
+nodded.  "Can you put us up?" inquired Murrell, turning to the
+tavern-keeper.
+
+"I reckon that's what I'm here for," said Slosson.  Murrell
+glanced about the empty yard.  "Slack," observed Slosson
+languidly.  "Yes, sir, slack's the only name for it."  It was
+understood he referred to the state of trade.  He looked from one
+to the other of the two men.  As his eyes rested on Murrell, that
+gentleman raised the first three fingers of his right hand.  The
+gesture was ever so little, yet it seemed to have a tonic effect
+on Mr. Slosson.  What might have developed into a smile had he
+not immediately suppressed it, twisted his bearded lips as he
+made an answering movement.  "Eph, come here, you!" Slosson
+raised his voice.  This call brought a half-grown black boy from
+about a corner of the tavern, to whom Murrell relinquished his
+horse.
+
+"Let's liquor," said the captain over his shoulder, moving off in
+the direction of the bar.
+
+"Come on, Nevvy!" said Yancy following, and they all entered the
+tavern.
+
+"Well, here's to the best of good luck!" said Murrell, as he
+raised his glass to his lips.
+
+"Same here," responded Yancy.  Murrell pulled out a roll of
+bills, one of which he tossed on the bar.  Then after a moment's
+hesitation he detached a second bill from the roll and turned to
+Hannibal.
+
+"Here, youngster--a present for you;" he said good-naturedly.
+Hannibal, embarrassed by the unexpected gift, edged to his Uncle
+Bob's side.
+
+"Ain't you-all got nothing to say to the gentleman?" asked Yancy.
+
+"Thank you, sir," said the boy.
+
+"That sounds a heap better.  Let's see--why, if it ain't ten
+dollars--think of that!" said Yancy, in surprise.
+
+"Let's have another drink," suggested Murrell.
+
+Presently Hannibal stole out into the yard.  He still held the
+bill in his hand, for he did not quite know how to dispose of his
+great wealth.  After debating this matter for a moment he knotted
+it carefully in one corner of his handkerchief.  But this did not
+quite suit him, for he untied the knot and looked at the bill
+again, turning it over and over in his hand.  Then he folded it
+carefully into the smallest possible compass and once more tied a
+corner of his handkerchief about it, this time with two knots
+instead of one; these he afterward tested with his teeth.
+
+"I 'low she won't come undone now!" he said, with satisfaction.
+He stowed the handkerchief away in his trousers pocket, ramming
+it very tight with his fist.  He was much relieved when this was
+done, for wearing a care-free air he sauntered across the yard
+and established himself on the top rail of the corn-field fence.
+
+The colored boy, armed with an ax, appeared at the woodpile and
+began to chop in the desultory fashion of his race, pausing every
+few seconds to stare in the direction of his white compatriot,
+who met his glance with reserve.  Whereupon Mr. Slosson's male
+domestic indulged in certain strange antics that were not rightly
+any part of woodchopping.  This yet further repelled Hannibal.
+
+"The disgustin' chattel!" he muttered under his breath, quoting
+his Uncle Bob, with whom, in theory at least, race feeling was
+strong.  Yancy appeared at the door of the bar and called to him,
+and as the boy slid from the fence and ran toward him across the
+yard, the Scratch Hiller sauntered forth to meet him.
+
+"I reckon it's all right, Nevvy," he said, "but we don't know
+nothing about this here Captain Murrell--as he calls himself
+--though he seems a right clever sort of gentleman; but we won't
+mention Belle Plain."  With this caution he led the way into the
+tavern and back through the bar to a low-ceilinged room where
+Murrell and Slosson were already at table.  It was intolerably
+hot, and there lingered in the heavy atmosphere of the place
+stale and unappetizing odors.  Only Murrell attempted
+conversation and he was not encouraged; and presently silence
+fell on the room except for the rattle of dishes and the buzzing
+of flies.  When they had finished, the stale odors and the heat
+drove them quickly into the bar again, where for a little time
+Hannibal sat on Yancy's knee, by the door.  Presently he slipped
+down and stole out into the yard.
+
+The June night was pulsing with life.  Above him bats darted in
+short circling flights.  In the corn-field and pasture-lot the
+fireflies lifted from their day-long sleep, showing pale points
+of light in the half darkness, while from some distant pond or
+stagnant watercourse came the booming of frogs, presently to
+swell into a resonant chorus.  These were the summer night sounds
+he had known as far back as his memory went.
+
+In the tavern the three men were drinking--Murrell with the idea
+that the more Yancy came under the influence of Slosson's corn
+whisky the easier his speculation would be managed.  Mr. Yancy on
+his part believed that if Murrell went to bed reasonably drunk he
+would sleep late and give him the opportunity he coveted, to quit
+the tavern unobserved at break of day.  Gradually the ice of
+silence which had held them mute at supper, thawed.  At first it
+was the broken lazy speech of men who were disposed to quiet,
+then the talk became brisk--a steady stream of rather dreary
+gossip of horses and lands and negroes, of speculations past and
+gone in these great staples.
+
+Hannibal crossed to the corn-field.  There, in the friendly
+gloom, he examined his handkerchief and felt of the rolled-up
+bill.  Then he made count of certain silver and copper coins
+which he had in his other pocket.  Satisfied that he had
+sustained no loss, he again climbed to the top rail of the fence
+where he seated himself with an elbow resting on one knee and his
+chin in the palm of his hand.
+
+"I got ten dollars and seventy cents--yes, sir--and the clostest
+shooting rifle I ever tossed to my shoulder."  He seemed but
+small to have accomplished such a feat.  He meditated for a
+little space.  "I reckon when we strike the settlements again I
+should like to buy my Uncle Bob a present."  With knitted brows
+he considered what this should be, canvassing Yancy's needs.  He
+had about decided on a ring such as Captain Murrell was wearing,
+when he heard the shuffling of bare feet over the ground and a
+voice spoke out of the darkness.
+
+"When yo' get to feelin' like sleep, young boss, Mas'r Slosson he
+says I show yo' to yo' chamber."  It was Slosson's boy Eph.
+
+"Did you-all happen to notice what they're doing in the tavern
+now?" asked Hannibal.
+
+"I low they're makin' a regular hog-killin' of it," said Eph
+smartly.  Hannibal descended from the fence.
+
+"Yes, you can show me my chamber," he said, and his tone was
+severe.  What a white man did was not a matter for a black man to
+criticize.  They went toward the open door of the tavern.  Mr.
+Slosson's corn whisky had already wrought a marked transformation
+in the case of Slosson himself.  His usually terse speech was
+becoming diffuse and irrelevant, while vacant laughter issued
+from his lips.  Yancy was apparently unaffected by the good cheer
+of which he had partaken, but Murrell's dark face was flushed.
+The Scratch Hiller's ability to carry his liquor exceeded
+anything he had anticipated.
+
+"You-all run along to bed, Nevvy," said Yancy, as Hannibal
+entered the room.  "I'll mighty soon follow you."
+
+Eph secured a tin candle-stick with a half-burnt candle in it and
+led the way into the passage back of the bar.
+
+"Mas'r Slosson's jus' mo' than layin' back!" he said, as he
+closed the door after them.
+
+"I reckon you-all will lay back, too, when you get growed up,"
+retorted Hannibal.
+
+"No, sir, I won't.  White folks won't let a nigger lay back.
+Onliest time a nigger sees co'n whisky's when he's totin' it fo'
+some one else."
+
+"I reckon a nigger's fool enough without corn whisky," said
+Hannibal.  They mounted a flight of stairs and passed down a
+narrow hall.  This brought them to the back of the building, and
+Eph pushed open the door on his right.
+
+"This heah's yo' chamber," he said, and preceding his companion
+into the room, placed the candle on a chair.
+
+"Well--I low I clean forgot something!" cried Hannibal.
+
+"If it's yo' bundle and yo' gun, I done fotched 'em up heah and
+laid 'em on yo' bed," said Eph, preparing' to withdraw.
+
+"I certainly am obliged to you," said Hannibal, and with a good
+night, Eph retired, closing the door after him, and the boy heard
+the patter of his bare feet as he scuttled down the hall.
+
+The moon was rising and Hannibal went to the open window and
+glanced out.  His room overlooked the back yard of the inn and a
+neglected truck patch.  Starting from a point beyond the truck
+patch and leading straight away to the woodland beyond was a
+fenced lane, with the corn-field and the pasture-lot on either
+hand.  Immediately below his window was the steeply slanting roof
+of a shed.  For a moment he considered the night, not unaffected
+by its beauty, then, turning from the window, he moved his bundle
+and rifle to the foot of the bed, where they would be out of his
+way, kicked off his trousers, blew out the candle and lay down.
+The gossip of the men in the bar ran like a whisper through the
+house, and with it came frequent bursts of noisy laughter.
+Listening for these sounds the boy dozed off.
+
+Yancy had become more and more convinced as the evening passed
+that Murrell was bent on getting him drunk, and suspicion mounted
+darkly to his brain.  He felt certain that he was Bladen's agent.
+Now, Mr. Yancy took an innocent pride in his ability to "cool off
+liquor."  Perhaps it was some heritage from a well living
+ancestry that had hardened its head with Port and Madeira in the
+days when the Yancys owned their acres and their slaves.  Be that
+as it may, he was equal to the task he had set himself.  He saw
+with satisfaction the flush mount to Murrell's swarthy cheeks,
+and felt that the limit of his capacity was being reached.  Mr.
+Slosson had become a sort of Greek chorus.  He anticipated all
+the possible phases of drunkenness that awaited his companions.
+He went from silence to noisy mirth, when his unmeaning laughter
+rang through the house; he told long witless stories as he leaned
+against the bar; he became melancholy and described the loss of
+his wife five years before.  From melancholy he passed to
+sullenness and seemed ready to fasten a quarrel on Yancy, but the
+latter deftly evaded any such issue.
+
+"What you-all want is another drink," he said affably.  "With all
+you been through you need a tonic, so shove along that extract of
+cornshucks and molasses!"
+
+"I'm a rip-staver," said Slosson thickly.  "But I've knowed
+enough sorrow to kill a horse."
+
+"You have that look.  Captain, will you join us?" asked Yancy.
+Murrell shook his head, but he made a significant gesture to
+Slosson as Yancy drained his glass.
+
+"Have a drink with me!" cried Slosson, giving way to drunken
+laughter.
+
+"Don't you reckon you'll spite yo' appetite fo' breakfast,
+neighbor?" suggested Yancy.
+
+"Do you mean you won't drink with me?" roared Slosson.
+
+"The captain's dropped out and I 'low it's about time fo' these
+here festivities to come to an end.  I'm thinking some of going
+to bed myself," said Yancy.  He kept his eyes fixed on Murrell.
+He realized that if the latter could prevent it he was not to
+leave the bar.  Murrell stood between him and the door; more than
+this, he stood between him and his rifle, which leaned against
+the wall in the far corner of the room.  Slosson roared out a
+protest to his words.  "That's all right, neighbor," retorted
+Yancy over his shoulder, "but I'm going to bed."  He never
+shifted his glance from Murrell's face.  Seowling now, the
+captain's eyes blazed back their challenge as he thrust his right
+hand under his coat.  "Fair play--I don't know who you are, but I
+know what you want!" said Yancy, the light in his frank gray eyes
+deepening.  Murrell laughed and took a forward step.  At the same
+moment Slosson snatched up a heavy club from back of the bar and
+dealt Yancy a murderous blow.  A single startled cry escaped the
+Scratch Hitler; he struck out wildly as he lurched toward
+Murrell, who drew his knife and drove it into his shoulder.
+
+Groping wildly, Yancy reached his rifle and faced about.  His
+scalp lay open where Slosson's treacherous blow had fallen and
+his face was covered with blood; even as his fingers stiffened
+they found the hammer, but Murrell, springing forward, kicked the
+gun out of his hands.  Dashing the blood from his eyes, Yancy
+threw himself on Murrell.  Then, as they staggered to and fro,
+Yancy dully bent on strangling his enemy, Slosson--whom the sight
+of blood had wonderfully sobered--rushed out from the bar and let
+loose a perfect torrent of blows with his club.  Murrell felt the
+fingers that gripped him grow weak, and Yancy dropped heavily to
+the floor.
+
+
+How long the boy slept he never knew, but he awoke with a start
+and a confused sense of things.  He seemed to have heard a cry
+for help.  But the tavern was very silent now.  The distant
+murmur of voices and the shouts of laughter had ceased.  He
+lifted himself up on his elbow and glanced from the window.  The
+heavens were pale and gray.  It was evidently very late, probably
+long after midnight but where was his Uncle Bob?
+
+He sank back on his pillow intent and listening.  What he had
+heard, what he still expected to hear, he could not have told,
+but he was sure he had been roused by a cry of some sort.  A
+chilling terror that gripped him fast and would not let him go,
+mounted to his brain.  Once he thought he heard cautious steps
+beyond his door.  He could not be certain, yet he imagined the
+bull-necked landlord standing with his ear to some crack seeking
+to determine whether or not he slept.  His thin little body grew
+rigid and a cold sweat started from him.  He momentarily expected
+the latch to be lifted, then in the heavy silence he caught the
+sound of some stealthy movement beyond the lath and plaster
+partition, and an instant later an audible footfall.  He heard
+the boards creak and give, as the person who had been standing
+before his door passed down the hall, down the stairs, and to the
+floor below.
+
+Limp and shivering, he drew his scanty covering tight about him.
+In the silence that succeeded, he once more became aware of the
+tireless chorus of the frogs, the hooting of the owls, and the
+melancholy and oft-repeated call of the whippoorwill.  But where
+was his Uncle Bob?  Why didn't he come to bed?  And whose was
+that cry for help he had heard?  Memories of idle tales of men
+foully dealt with in these lonely taverns, of murderous
+landlords, and mysterious guests who were in league with them,
+flashed through his mind.
+
+Murrell had followed them for this--and had killed his Uncle Bob,
+and he would be sent back to Bladen!  The law had said that
+Bladen could have him and that his Uncle Bob must give him up.
+The law put men in prison--it hanged them sometimes--his Uncle
+Bob had told him all about it--by the neck with ropes until they
+were dead!  Maybe they wouldn't send him back; maybe they would
+do with him what they had already done with his Uncle Bob; he
+wanted the open air, the earth under his feet, and the sky over
+his head.  The four walls stifled him.  He was not afraid of the
+night, be could run and hide in it--there were the woods and
+fields where he would be safe.
+
+He slid from the bed, and for a long moment stood cold and
+shaking, his every sense on the alert.  With infinite caution he
+got into his trousers and again paused to listen, since he feared
+his least movement might betray him.  Reassured, he picked up his
+battered hat from the floor and inch by inch crept across the
+squeaking boards to the window.  When the window was reached he
+paused once more to listen, but the quiet that was everywhere
+throughout the house gave him confidence.  He straddled the low
+sill, and putting out his hand gripped the stock of his rifle and
+drew that ancient weapon toward him.  Next he secured his pack,
+and was ready for flight.
+
+Encumbered by his belongings, but with no mind to sacrifice them,
+he stepped out upon the shed and made his way down the slant of
+the roof to the eaves.  He tossed his bundle to the ground and
+going down on his knees lowered his rifle, letting the muzzle
+fall lightly against the side of the shed as it left his hand,
+then he lay flat on his stomach and, feet first, wriggled out
+into space.  When he could no longer preserve his balance, he
+gave himself a shove away from the eaves and dropped clear of the
+building.
+
+As he recovered himself he was sure he heard a door open and
+close, and threw himself prone on the ground, where the black
+shadow cast by the tavern hid him.  At the same moment two dark
+figures came from about a corner of the building.  He could just
+distinguish that they carried some heavy burden between them and
+that they staggered as they moved.  He heard Slosson curse
+drunkenly, and a whispered word from Murrell.  The two men slowly
+crossed the truck patch, and the boy's glance followed them, his
+eyes starting from his head.  Just at the mouth of the lane they
+paused and put down their burden; a few words spoken in a whisper
+passed between them and they began to drag some dark thing down
+the lane, their backs bent, their heads bowed and the thing they
+dragged bumping over the uneven ground.
+
+They passed out of sight, and breathless and palsied, Hannibal
+crept about a corner of the tavern.  He must be sure!  The door
+of the bar stood open; the lamps were still burning, and the
+upturned chairs and a broken table told of the struggle that had
+taken place there.  The boy rested his hand on the top step as he
+stared fearfully into the room.  His palm came away with a great
+crimson splotch.  But he was not satisfied yet.  He must be sure
+--sure!  He passed around the building as the men had done and
+crossed the truck patch to the mouth of the lane.  Here he slid
+through the fence into the corn-field, and, well sheltered,
+worked his way down the rows.  Presently he heard a distant
+sound--a splash--surely it was a splash--.
+
+A little later the men came up the lane, to disappear in the
+direction of the tavern.  Hannibal peered after them.  His very
+terrors, while they wrenched and tortured him, gave him a
+desperate kind of courage.  As the gloom hid the two men, he
+started forward again; he must know the meaning of that sound
+--that splash, if it was a splash.  He reached the end of the
+cornfield, climbed the fence, and entered a deadening of slashed
+and mutilated timber.  In the long wet grass he found where the
+men had dragged their burden.  He reached down and swept his hand
+to and fro--once--twice--the third time his little palm came away
+red and discolored.
+
+There was the first pale premonition of dawn in the sky, and as
+he hurried on the light grew, and the black trunks of trees
+detached themselves from the white mist that filled the woods and
+which the dawn made visible.  There was light enough for him to
+see that he was following the trail left by the men; he could
+distinguish where the dew had been brushed from the long grass.
+Advancing still farther, he heard the clear splash of running
+water, an audible ripple that mounted into a silver cadence.  Day
+was breaking now.  The lifeless gray along the eastern horizon
+had changed to orange.  Still following the trail, he emerged
+upon the bank of the Elk River, white like the woods with its
+ghostly night sweat.
+
+The dull beat of the child's heart quickened as he gazed out on
+the swift current that was hurrying on with its dreadful secret.
+Then the full comprehension of his loss seemed to overwhelm him
+and he was utterly desolate.  Sobs shook him, and he dropped on
+his knees, holding fast to the stock of his rifle.
+
+"Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob, come back!  Can't you come back!" he
+wailed miserably.  Presently he staggered to his feet.
+Convulsive sobs still wrenched his little body.  What was he to
+do?  Those men--his Uncle Bob's murderers--would go to his room;
+they would find his empty bed and their search for him would
+begin!  Not for anything would he have gone back through the
+corn-field or the lane to the road.  He had the courage to go
+forward, but not to retrace his steps; and the river, deep and
+swift, barred his path.  As he glanced about, he saw almost at
+his feet a dug-out, made from a single poplar log.  It was
+secured to an overhanging branch by a length of wild grape-vine.
+With one last fearful look off across the deadening in the
+direction of the tavern, he crept down to the water's edge and
+entered the canoe.  In a moment, he had it free from its lashing
+and the rude craft was bumping along the bank in spite of his
+best efforts with the paddle.  Then a favoring current caught it
+and swept it out toward the center of the stream.
+
+It was much too big and clumsy for him to control without the
+stream's help, though he labored doggedly with his paddle.  Now
+he was broadside to the current, now he was being spun round and
+round, but always he was carried farther and farther from the
+spot where he had embarked.  He passed about a bend; and a
+hundred yards beyond, about a second bend; then the stream opened
+up straight before him a half-mile of smooth running water.  Far
+down it, at the point where the trees met in the unbroken line of
+the forest and the water seemed to vanish mysteriously, he could
+distinguish a black moving object; some ark or raft, doubtless.
+
+In the smoother water of the long reach, Hannibal began to make
+head against the flood.  The farther shore became the nearer, and
+finally he drove the bow of his canoe up on a bit of shelving
+bank, and seizing his pack and rifle, sprang ashore.  Panting and
+exhausted, he paused just long enough to push the canoe out into
+the stream again, and then, with his rifle and pack in his hands,
+turned his small tear-stained face toward the wooded slope
+beyond.  As he toiled up it in the wide silence of the dawn, a
+mournful wind burst out of the north, filling the air about him
+with withered leaves and the dead branches of trees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+ON THE RIVER
+
+
+Betty stood under a dripping umbrella in the midst of a drenching
+downpour, her boxes and trunks forming a neat pyramid of
+respectable size beside her.  She was somewhat perturbed in
+spirit, since they contained much elaborate finery all in the
+very latest eastern fashion, spoils that were the fruit of a
+heated correspondence with Tom, who hadn't seemed at all alive to
+the fact that Betty was nearly eighteen and in her own right a
+young woman of property.  A tarpaulin had been thrown over the
+heap, and with one eye on it and the other on the stretch of
+yellow canal up which they were bringing the fast packet Pioneer,
+she was waiting impatiently to see her belongings transferred to
+a place of safety.
+
+Just arrived by the four-horse coach that plyed regularly between
+Washington and Georgetown, she had found the long board platform
+beside the canal crowded with her fellow passengers, their number
+augmented by those who delight to share vicariously in travel and
+to whom the departure of a stage or boat was a matter of urgent
+interest requiring their presence, rain or shine.  Suddenly she
+became aware of a tall, familiar figure moving through the crowd.
+It was Bruce Carrington.  At the same moment he saw her, and with
+a casual air that quite deceived her, approached; and Betty, who
+had been feeling very lonely and very homesick, was somehow
+instantly comforted at sight of him.  She welcomed him almost as
+a friend.
+
+"You're leaving to-night?" he asked.
+
+"Yes--isn't it miserable the way it rains?  And why are they so
+slow--why don't they hurry with that boat?"
+
+"It's in the last lock now," explained Carrington.
+
+"My clothes will all be ruined," said Betty.  He regarded the
+dress she wore with instant concern.  "No--I mean the things in
+my trunks; this doesn't matter," and Betty nodded toward the pile
+under the steaming tarpaulin.  Carrington's dark eyes opened with
+an expression of mild wonder.  And so those trunks were full of
+clothes--Oh, Lord!--he looked down at the flushed, impatient face
+beside him with amusement.
+
+"I'll see that they are taken care of," he said, for the boat was
+alongside the platform now; and gathering up Betty's hand
+luggage, he helped her aboard.
+
+By the time they had reached Wheeling, Betty had quite parted
+with whatever superficial prejudice she might have had concerning
+river-men.  This particular one was evidently a very nice
+river-man, an exception to his kind.  She permitted him to assume
+the burden of her plans, and no longer scanned the pages of her
+Badger's and Porter's with a puckered brow.  It reposed at the
+bottom of her satchel.  He made choice of the steamer on which
+she should continue her journey, and thoughtfully chose The
+Naiad--a slow boat, with no reputation for speed to sustain.  It
+meant two or three days longer on the river, but what of that?
+There would be no temptation in the engine-room to attach a
+casual wrench or so to the safety-valve as an offset to the
+builder's lack of confidence in his own boilers.  He saw to it
+that her state-room was well aft--steamers had a trick of blowing
+up forward.
+
+Ne had now reached a state of the utmost satisfaction with
+himself and the situation.  Betty was friendly and charming.  He
+walked with her, and he talked with her by the hour; and always
+he was being entangled deeper and deeper in the web of her
+attraction.  "When alone he would pace the deck recalling every
+word she had spoken.  There was that little air of high breeding
+which was Betty's that fascinated him.  He had known something of
+the other sort, those who had arrived at prosperity with manners
+and speech that still reflected the meaner condition from which
+they had risen.
+
+"I haven't a thing to offer her--this is plain madness of mine!"
+he kept telling himself, and then the expression of his face
+would become grim and determined.  No more of the river for him
+--he'd get hold of some land and go to raising cotton; that was the
+way money was made.
+
+Slow as The Naiad was, the days passed much too swiftly for him.
+When Memphis was reached their friendly intercourse would come to
+an end.  There would be her brother, of whom she had occasionally
+spoken--he would be pretty certain to have the ideas of his
+class.
+
+As for Betty, she liked this tall fellow who helped her through
+the fatigue of those long days, when there was only the unbroken
+sweep of the forest on either hand, with here and there a
+clearing where some outrageous soul was making a home for
+himself.  The shores became duller, wilder, more uninteresting as
+they advanced, and then at last they entered the Mississippi, and
+she was almost home.
+
+Betty was not unexcited by the prospect.  She would be the
+mistress of the most splendid place in West Tennessee.  She
+secretly aspired to be a brilliant hostess.  She could remember
+when the doors of Belle Plain were open to whoever had the least
+claim to distinction--statesmen and speculators in land; men who
+were promoting those great schemes of improvement, canals and
+railroads; hard-featured heroes of the two wars with England--a
+diminishing group; the men of the modern army, the pathfinders,
+and Indian fighters, and sometimes a titled foreigner.  She
+wondered if Tom had maintained the traditions of the place.  She
+found that Carrington had heard of Belle Plain.  He spoke of it
+with respect, but with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm, for how
+could he feel enthusiasm when he must begin his chase after
+fortune with bare hands?--he suffered acutely whenever it was
+mentioned.  The days, like any other days, dwindled.  The end of
+it all was close at hand.  Another twenty-four hours and
+Carrington reflected there would only be good-by to say.
+
+"We will reach New Madrid to-night," he told her.  They were
+watching the river, under a flood of yellow moonlight.
+
+"And then just another day--Oh, I can hardly wait!" cried Betty
+delightedly.  "Soon I shall hope to see you at Belle Plain, Mr.
+Carrington," she added graciously.
+
+"Thank you, your--your family--" he hesitated.
+
+"There's only just Tom--he's my half-brother.  My mother was left
+a widow when I was a baby.  Later, some years after, she married
+Tom's father."
+
+"Oh--then he's not even your half-brother?"
+
+"He's no relation at all--and much older.  When Tom's father died
+my mother made Tom, manager, and still later he was appointed my
+guardian."
+
+"Then you own Belle Plain?" and Carrington sighed.
+
+"Yes.  You have never seen it?--it's right on the river, you
+know?" then Betty's face grew sober: "Tom's dreadfully queer--I
+expect he'll require a lot of managing!"
+
+"I reckon you'll be equal to that!" said-Carrington, convinced of
+Betty's all-compelling charm.
+
+"No, I'm not at all certain about Tom--I can see where we shall
+have serious differences; but then, I shan't have to struggle
+single-handed with him long; a cousin of my mother's is coming to
+Belle Plain to make her home with me--she'll make' him behave,"
+and Betty laughed maliciously.  "It's a great nuisance being a
+girl!"
+
+Then Betty fell to watching for the lights at New Madrid, her
+elbows resting on the rail against which she was leaning, and the
+soft curve of her chin sunk in the palms of her hands.  She
+wondered absently what Judith would have said of this river-man.
+She smiled a little dubiously.  Judith had certainly vindicated
+the sincerity of her convictions regarding the importance of
+family, inasmuch as in marrying Ferris she had married her own
+second cousin.  She nestled her chin a little closer in her
+palms.  She remembered that they had differed seriously over Mr.
+Yancy's defiance, of the law as it was supposed to be lodged in
+the sacred person of Mr. Bladen's agent, the unfortunate Blount.
+Carrington, with his back against a stanchion, watched her
+discontentedly.
+
+"You'll be mighty glad to have this over with, Miss Malroy--" he
+said at length, with a comprehensive sweep toward the river.
+
+"Yes--shan't you?" and she opened her eyes questioningly.
+
+"No," said Carrington with a short laugh, drawing a chair near
+hers and sitting down.
+
+Betty, in surprise, gave him a quick look, and then as quickly
+glanced away from what she encountered in his eyes.  Men were
+accustomed to talk sentiment to her, but she had hoped--well, she
+really had thought that he was, superior to this weakness.  She
+had enjoyed the feeling that here was some one, big and strong
+and thoroughly masculine, with whom she could be friendly
+without--she took another look at him from under the fringe of
+her long lashes.  He was so nice and considerate--and good
+looking--he was undeniably this last.  It would be a pity!  And
+she had already determined that Tom should invite him to Belle
+Plain.  She didn't mind if he was a river-man--they could be
+friends, for clearly he was such an exception.  Tom should be
+cordial to him.  Betty stared before her, intently watching the
+river.  As she looked, suddenly pale points of light appeared on
+a distant headland.
+
+"Is that New Madrid?--Oh, is it, Mr. Carrington?"' she cried
+eagerly.
+
+"I reckon so," but he did not alter his position.
+
+"But you're not looking!"
+
+"Yes, I am--I'm looking at you.  I reckon you'll think me crazy,
+Miss Malroy-presumptuous and all that but I wish Memphis could be
+wiped off the map and that we could go on like this for ever!
+--no, not like this but together--you and I" he took a deep breath.
+Betty drew a little farther away, and looked at him
+reproachfully; and then she turned to the dancing lights far down
+the river.  Finally she said slowly:
+
+"I thought you were--different."
+
+"I'm not," and Carrington's hand covered hers.
+
+"Oh--you mustn't kiss my hand like that--"
+
+"Dear--I'm just a man--and you didn't expect, did you, that I
+could see you this way day after day and not come to love you?"
+He rested his arm across the back of her chair and leaned toward
+her.
+
+"No--no--" and Betty moved still farther away.
+
+"Give me a chance to win your love, Betty!"
+
+"You mustn't talk so--I am nothing to you--"
+
+"Yes, you are.  You're everything to me," said Carrington
+doggedly.
+
+"I'm not--I won't be!" and Betty stamped her foot.
+
+"You can't help it.  I love you and that's all there is about it.
+I know I'm a fool to tell you now, Betty, but years wouldn't make
+any difference in my feeling; and I can't have you go, and
+perhaps never see you again, if I can help it.  Betty--give me a
+chance--you don't hate me--"
+
+"But I do--yes, I do--indeed--"
+
+"I know you don't.  Let me see you again and do what I can to
+make you care for me!" he implored.  But he had a very indignant
+little aristocrat to deal with.  She was angry with him, and
+angry with herself that in spite of herself his words moved her.
+She wouldn't have it so!  Why, he wasn't even of her class--her
+kind!  "Betty, you don't mean--" he faltered.
+
+"I mean--I am extremely annoyed.  I mean just what I say."  Betty
+regarded him with wrathful blue eyes.  It proved too much for
+Carrington.  His arm, dropped about her shoulders.
+
+"You shall love me--"  She was powerless in his embrace.  She
+felt his breath on her cheek, then he kissed her.  Breathless and
+crimson, she struggled and pushed him from her.  Suddenly his
+arms fell at hisside; his face was white.  "I was a brute to do
+that!--Betty, forgive me!  I am sorry--no, I can't be sorry!"'
+
+"How do you dare!  I hope I may never see you again--I hate you
+--" said Betty furiously, tears in her eyes and her pulses still
+throbbing from his fierce caress.
+
+"Do you mean that?" he asked slowly, rising.
+
+"Yes--yes--a million times, yes!"
+
+"I don't believe you--I can't--I won't!"  They were alongside the
+New Madrid wharf now, and a certain young man who had been
+impatiently watching The Naiad's lights ever since they became
+visible crossed the gang-plank with a bound.
+
+"Betty--why in the name of goodness did you ever, choose this
+tub?--everything on the river has passed it!" said the newcomer.
+Betty started up with a little cry of surprise and pleasure.
+
+"Charley!"
+
+Carrington stepped back.  This must be the brother who had come
+up the river from Memphis to meet her--but her brother's name was
+Tom!  He looked this stranger--this Charley--over with a hostile
+eye, offended by his good looks, his confident manner, in which
+he thought he detected an air of ownership, as if--certainly he
+was holding her hands longer than was necessary!  Of course,
+other men were in love with her, such a radiant personality held
+its potent attraction for men, but for all that, she was going to
+belong to him--Carrington!  She did like him; she had shown it in
+a hundred little ways during the last week, and he would give her
+up to no man--give her up?--there wasn't the least tie between
+them--except that kiss--and she was furious because of it.  There
+was nothing for him to do but efface himself.  He would go now,
+before the boat started--and an instant later, when Betty,
+remembering, turned to speak to him, his place by the rail was
+deserted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+JUDGE SLOCUM PRICE
+
+
+Athat day Hannibal was haunted by the memory of what he had heard
+and seen at Slosson's tavern.  More than this, there was his
+terrible sense of loss, and the grief he could not master, when
+his thin, little body was shaken by sobs.  Marking the course of
+the road westward, he clung to the woods, where his movements
+were as stealthy as the very shadows themselves.  He shunned the
+scattered farms and the infrequent settlements, for the fear was
+strong with him that he might be followed either by Murrell or
+Slosson.  But as the dusk of evening crept across the land, the
+great woods, now peopled by strange shadows, sent him forth into
+the highroad.  He was beginning to be very tired, and hunger
+smote him with fierce pangs, but back of it all was his sense of
+bitter loss, his desolation, and his loneliness.
+
+"I couldn't forget Uncle Bob if I tried--" he told himself, with
+quivering lips, as he limped wearily along the dusty road, and
+the tears welled up and streaked his pinched face.  Now before
+him he saw the scattered lights of a settlement.  All his
+terrors, the terrors that grouped themselves about the idea of
+pursuit and capture, rushed back upon him, and in a panic he
+plunged into the black woods again.
+
+But the distant lights intensified his loneliness.  He had lived
+a whole day without food, a whole day without speech.  He began
+to skirt the settlement, keeping well within the thick gloom of
+the woods, and presently, as he stumbled forward, he came to a
+small clearing in the center of which stood a log dwelling.  The
+place seemed deserted.  There was no sign of life, no light shone
+from the window, no smoke issued from the stick-and-mud chimney.
+
+Tilted back in a chair by the door of this house a man was
+sleeping.  The hoot of an owl from a near-by oak roused him.  He
+yawned and stretched himself, thrusting out his fat legs and
+extending his great arms.  Then becoming aware of the small
+figure which had stolen up the path as he slept and now stood
+before him in the uncertain light, he fell to rubbing his eyes
+with the knuckles of his plump hands.  The pale night mist out of
+the silent depths of the forest had assumed shapes as strange.
+
+"Who are you?" he demanded, and his voice rumbled thickly forth
+from his capacious chest.  The very sound was sleek and unctuous.
+
+"I'm Hannibal," said the small figure.  He was meditating flight;
+he glanced over his shoulder toward the woods.
+
+"No, you ain't.  He's been dead a thousand years, more or less.
+Try again," recommended the man.
+
+"I'm Hannibal Wayne Hazard," said the boy.  The man quitted his
+chair.
+
+"Well--I am glad to know you, Hannibal Wayne Hazard.  I am Slocum
+Price--Judge Slocum Price, sometime major-general of militia and
+ex-member of congress, to mention a few of those honors my fellow
+countrymen have thrust upon me." He made a sweeping gesture with
+his two hands outspread and bowed ponderously.
+
+The boy saw a man of sixty, whose gross and battered visage told
+its own story.  There was a sparse white frost about his ears;
+and his eyes, pale blue and prominent, looked out from under
+beetling brows.  He wore a shabby plum-colored coat and tight,
+drab breeches.  About his fat neck was a black stock, with just a
+suggestion of soiled linen showing above it.  His figure was
+corpulent and unwieldy.
+
+The man saw a boy of perhaps ten, barefoot, and clothed in
+homespun shirt and trousers.  On his head was a ruinous hat much
+too large for him, but which in some mysterious manner he
+contrived to keep from quite engulfing his small features, which
+were swollen and tear-stained.  In his right hand he carried a
+bundle, while his left clutched the brown barrel of a long rifle.
+
+"You don't belong in these parts, do you?" asked the judge, when
+he had completed his scrutiny.
+
+"No, sir," answered the boy.  He glanced off down the road, where
+lights were visible among the trees.  "What town is that?" he
+added.
+
+"Pleasantville--which is a lie--but I am neither sufficiently
+drunk nor sufficiently sober to cope with the possibilities your
+question offers.  It is a task one should approach only after
+extraordinary preparation," and the sometime major-general of
+militia grinned benevolently.
+
+"It's a town, ain't it?" asked Hannibal doubtfully.  He scarcely
+understood this large, smiling gentleman who was so civilly given
+to speech with him, yet strangely enough he was not afraid of
+him, and his whole soul craved human companionship.
+
+"It's got a name--but you'll excuse me, I'd much prefer not to
+tell you how I regard it--you're too young to hear.  But stop a
+bit--have you so much as fifty cents about you?" and the judge's
+eyes narrowed to a slit above their folds of puffy flesh.
+Hannibal, keeping his glance fixed on the man's face, fell back a
+step.  "I can't let you go if you are penniless--I can't do
+that!" cried the judge, with sudden vehemence.  "You shall
+be my guest for the night.  They're a pack of thieves at the
+tavern," he lowered his voice.  "I know 'em, for they've plucked
+me!"  To make sure of his prey, he rested a fat hand on the boy's
+shoulder and drew him gently but firmly into the shanty.  As they
+crossed the threshold he kicked the door shut, then with flint
+and steel he made a light, and presently a candle was sputtering
+in his hands.  He fitted it into the neck of a tall bottle, and
+as the light flared up the boy glanced about him.
+
+The interior was mean enough, with its rough walls, dirt floor
+and black, cavernous fireplace.  A rude clapboard table did duty
+as a desk, a fact made plain by a horn ink-well, a notary's seal,
+and a rack with a half-dozen quill pens.  Above the desk was a
+shelf of books in worn calf bindings, and before it a rickety
+chair.  A shakedown bed in one corner of the room was tastefully
+screened from the public gaze by a tattered quilt.
+
+"Boy, don't be afraid.  Look on me as a friend," urged the judge,
+who towered above him in the dim candle-light.  "Here's comfort
+without ostentation.  Don't tell me you prefer the tavern, with
+its corrupt associations!"  Hannibal was silent, and the judge,
+after a brief moment of irresolution, threw open the door.  Then
+he bent toward the small stranger, bringing his face close to the
+child's, while his thick lips wreathed themselves in a smile
+ingratiatingly genial.  "You can't look me squarely in the eye
+and say you prefer the tavern to these scholarly surroundings?"
+he said banteringly.
+
+"I reckon I'll be glad to stop," answered Hannibal.  The judge
+clapped him piayfully on the back.
+
+"Such confidence is inspiring!  Make yourself perfectly at home.
+Are you hungry?"
+
+"Yes, sir.  I ain't had much to eat to-day," replied Hannibal
+cautiously.
+
+"I can offer you food then.  What do you say to cold fish?" the
+judge smacked his lips to impart a relish to the idea.  "I dare
+swear I can find you some corn bread into the bargain.  Tea I
+haven't got.  On the advice of my physician, I don't use it.
+What do you say--shall we light a fire and warm the fish?"
+
+"I 'low I could eat it cold."
+
+"No trouble in the world to start a fire.  All we got to do is to
+go out, and pull a few palings off the fence," urged the judge.
+
+"It will do all right just like it is," said Hannibal.
+
+"Very good, then! " cried the judge gaily, and he began to
+assemble the dainties he had enumerated.  "Here you are!" he
+cleared his throat impressively, while benignity shone from every
+feature of his face.  "A moment since you allowed me to think
+that you were solvent to the extent of fifty cents--" Hannibal
+looked puzzled.  The judge dealt him a friendly blow on the
+back, then stood off and regarded him with a glance of great
+jocularity, his plump knuckles on his hips and his arms akimbo.
+"I wonder"--and his eyes assumed a speculative squint "I wonder
+if you could be induced to make a temporary loan of that fifty
+cents?  The sum involved is really such a ridiculous trifle I
+don't need to point out to you the absolute moral certainty of my
+returning it at an early date--say to-morrow morning; say
+to-morrow afternoon at the latest; say even the day after at the
+very outside.  Meantime, you shall be my guest.  The landlady's
+son has found my notarial seal an admirable plaything--she has
+had to lick the little devil twice for hooking it--my pens and
+stationery are at your disposal, should you desire to communicate
+to absent friends; you can have the run of my library!" the judge
+fairly trembled in his eagerness.  It was not the loss of his
+money that Hannibal most feared, and the coin passed from his
+possession into his host's custody.  As it dropped into the
+latter's great palm he was visibly moved.  His moist, blue eyes
+became yet more watery, while his battered old face assumed an
+expression indicating deep inward satisfaction.  "Thank you, my
+boy!  This is one of those intrinsically trifling benefits which,
+conferred at the moment of acute need, touch the heart and tap
+the unfailing springs of human gratitude--I must step down to the
+tavern--when I return, please God, we shall know more of each
+other."  While he was still speaking he had produced a jug from
+behind the quilt that screened his bed, and now, bareheaded, and
+with every indication of haste, took himself off into the night.
+
+Left alone, Hannibal gravely seated himself at the table.  What
+the judge's larder lacked in variety it more than made up for in
+quantity, and the boy was grateful for this fact.  He was half
+famished, and the coarse, abundant food was of the sort to which
+he was accustomed.  Presently he heard the judge's heavy,
+shuffling step as he came up the path from the road, and a moment
+later his gross bulk of body filled the doorway.  Breathing hard
+and perspiring, the judge entered the shanty, but his eagerness,
+together with his shortness of breath, kept him silent until he
+had established himself in his chair beside the table, with the
+jug and a cracked glass at his elbow.  Then, bland and smiling,
+he turned toward his guest.
+
+"Will you join me?" he asked.
+
+"No, sir.  Please, I'd rather not," said Hannibal.
+
+"Do you mean that you don't like good liquor?" demanded the
+judge.  "Not even with sugar and a dash of water?--say, now,
+don't you like it that way, my boy?"
+
+"I ain't learned to like it no ways," said Hannibal.
+
+"You amaze me--well--well--the greater the joy to which you may
+reasonably aspire.  The splendid possibilities of youth are
+yours.  My tenderest regards, Hannibal!" and he nodded over the
+rim of the cracked glass his shaking hand had carried to his
+lips.  Twice the glass was filled and emptied, and then again,
+his roving, watery eyes rested meditatively on the child, who sat
+very erect in his chair, with his brown hands crossed in his lap.
+"Personally, I can drink or not," explained the judge.  "But I
+hope I am too much a man of the world to indulge in any
+intemperate display of principle."  He proved the first clause of
+his proposition by again filling and emptying his glass.  "Have
+you a father?" he asked suddenly.  Hannibal shook his head.  "A
+mother?" demanded the judge.
+
+"They both of them done died years and years ago," answered the
+boy.  "I can't tell you how long back it was, but I reckon I
+don't know much about it.  I must have been a small child."
+
+"Ho--a small child!" cried the judge, laughing.  He cocked his
+head on one side and surveyed Hannibal Wayne Hazard with a glance
+of comic seriousness.  "A small child and in God's name what do
+you call yourself now?  To hear you talk one would think you had
+dabbled your feet in the Flood!"
+
+"I'm most ten," said Hannibal, with dignity.
+
+"I can well believe it," responded the judge.  "And with this
+weight of years, where did you come from and how did you get
+here?"
+
+"From across the mountains."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"No, sir.  Mr. Yancy fetched me--part way."  The boy's voice
+broke when he spoke his Uncle Bob's name, and his eyes swam with
+tears, but the judge did not notice this.
+
+"And where are you going?"
+
+"To West Tennessee."
+
+"Have you any friends there?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You've money enough to see you through?" and what the judge
+intended for a smile of fatherly affection became a leer of
+infinite cunning.
+
+"I got ten dollars."
+
+"Ten dollars--" the judge smacked his lips once.  "Ten dollars"
+he repeated, and smacked his lips twice.  There was a brief
+silence, in which he seemed to give way to pleasant reveries.
+
+From beyond the open door of the shanty came a multitude of night
+sounds.  The moon had risen, and what had been a dusty country
+road was now a streak of silver in the hot light.  The purple
+flush on the judge's face, where the dignity that belonged to age
+had gone down in wreck, deepened.  The sparse, white frost above
+his ears was damp with sweat.  He removed his stock, opened his
+shirt at the neck, and cast aside his coat; then he lighted a
+blackened pipe, filled his glass, and sank back in his chair.
+The long hours of darkness were all before him, and his senses
+clothed themselves in rich content.  Once more his glance rested
+on the boy.  Here, indeed, was a guest of whom one might make
+much and not err--he felt all the benevolence of his nature flow
+toward him.  Ten dollars!
+
+"Certainly the tavern would have been no place for you!  Well,
+thank God, it wasn't necessary for you to go there.  You are more
+than welcome here.  I tell you, when you know this place as I
+know it, you'll regard every living soul here with suspicion.
+Keep 'em at arm's length!" he sank his voice to an impressive
+whisper.  "In particular, I warn you against a certain Solomon
+Mahaffy.  You'll see much of him; I haven't known how to rebuff
+the fellow without being rude--he sticks to me like my shadow.
+He's profited by my charity and he admires my conversation and
+affects my society, but don't tell him you have so much as a
+rusty copper, for he will neither rest nor eat nor sleep until
+he's plucked you--tell him nothing--leave him to me.  I keep him
+--there--" the judge extended his fat hands, "at arm's length.  I
+say to him metaphorically speaking--'so close, but no closer.
+I'll visit you when sick, I'll pray with you when dying, I'll
+chat with you, I'll eat with you, I'll smoke with you, and if
+need be, I'll drink with you--but be your intimate?  Never!  Why?
+Because be's a damned Yankee!  These are the inextinguishable
+feelings of a gentleman.  I am aware they are out of place in
+this age, but what's bred in the bone will show in the flesh.
+Who says it won't, is no gentleman himself and a liar as well!
+My place in the world was determined two or three hundred years
+ago, and my ancestors spat on such cattle as Mahaffy and they
+were flattered by the attention!"  The judge, powerfully excited
+by his denunciation of the unfortunate Mahaffy, quitted his chair
+and, lurching somewhat as he did so, began to pace the floor.
+
+"Take me for your example, boy!  You may be poor, you may
+possibly be hungry you'll often be thirsty, but through it all
+you will remain that splendid thing--a gentleman!  Lands,
+niggers, riches, luxury, I've had 'em all; I've sucked the good
+of 'em; they've colored my blood, they've gone into the fiber of
+my brain and body.  Perhaps you'll contend that the old order is
+overthrown, that family has gone to the devil?  You are right,
+and there's the pity of it!  Where are the great names?  A race
+of upstarts has taken their place--sons of nobody--nephews of
+nobody--cousins of nobody--I observe only deterioration in the
+trend of modern life.  The social fabric is tottering--I can see
+it totter--" and he tottered himself as he said this.
+
+The boy had watched him out of wide eyes, as ponderous and
+unwieldy he shuffled back and forth in the dim candlelight; now
+shaking his head and muttering, the judge dropped into his chair.
+
+"Well, I'm an old man-the spectacle won't long offend me.  I'll
+die presently.  The Bench and Bar will review my services to the
+country, the militia will fire a few volleys at my graveside,
+here and there a flag will be at half-mast, and that will be the
+end--"  He was so profoundly moved by the thought that he could
+not go on.  His voice broke, and he buried his face in his arms.
+A sympathetic moisture had gathered in the child's eyes.  He
+understood only a small part of what his host was saying, but
+realized that it had to do with death, and he had his own
+terrible acquaintance with death.  He slipped from his chair and
+stole to the judge's side, and that gentleman felt a cool hand
+rest lightly on his arm.
+
+"What?" he said, glancing up.
+
+"I'm mighty sorry you're going to die," said the boy softly.
+
+"Bless you, Hannibal!" cried the judge, looking wonderfully
+cheerful, despite his recent bitterness of spirit.  "I'm not
+experiencing any of the pangs of mortality now.  My dissolution
+ain't a matter of to-night or to-morrow--there's some life in
+Slocum Price yet, for all the rough usage, eh?  I've had my
+fun--I could tell you a thing or two about that, if you had hair
+on your chin!" and the selfish lines of his face twisted
+themselves into an exceedingly knowing grin.
+
+"You talked like you thought you were going to die right off,"
+said Hannibal gravely, as he resumed his chair.  The judge was
+touched.  It had been more years than he cared to remember since
+he had launched a decent emotion in the breast of any human
+being.  For a moment he was silent, struck with a sense of shame;
+then he said:
+
+"You are sure you are not running away, Hannibal?  I hope you
+know that boys should always tell the truth--that hell has its
+own especial terrors for the boy who lies?  Now, if I thought the
+worst of you, I might esteem it my duty to investigate your
+story."  The judge laid a fat forefinger against the side of his
+nose, and regarded him with drunken gravity.  Hannibal shook with
+terror.  This was what he had feared.  "That's one aspect of the
+case.  Now, on the other hand, I might draw up a legal instrument
+which could not fail to be of use to you on your travois, and
+would stop all questions.  As for my fee, it would be trifling,
+when compared with the benefits I can see accruing to you."
+
+"No, I ain't running away.  I ain't got no one to run away from,"
+said the boy chokingly.  He was showing signs of fatigue.  His
+head drooped and he met the judge's glance with tired, sleepy
+eyes.  The latter looked at him and then said suddenly:
+
+"I think you'd better go to bed."
+
+"I reckon I had," agreed Hannibal, slipping from his chair.
+
+"Well, take my bed back of the quilt.  You'll find a hoe there.
+You can dig up the dirt under the shuck tick with it--which helps
+astonishingly.  What would the world say if it could know that
+judge Slocum Price makes his bed with a hoe!  There's Spartan
+hardihood!" but the boy, not knowing what was meant by Spartan
+hardihood, remained silent.  "Nearing threescore years and ten,
+the allotted span as set down by the Psalmist--once man of
+fashion, soldier, statesman and lawgiver--and makes his bed with
+a hoe!  What a history!" muttered the judge with weary
+melancholy, as one groping hand found the jug while the other
+found the glass.  There was a pause, while he profited by this
+fortunate chance.  "Well, take the bed," he resumed hospitably.
+
+"I can sleep most anywhere.  I ain't no ways particular," said
+Hannibal.
+
+"I say, take the bed!" commanded the judge sternly.  And Hannibal
+quickly retired behind the quilt.  "Do you find it comfortable?"
+the judge asked, when the rustling of the shuck tick informed him
+that the child had lain down.
+
+"Yes, sir," said the boy.
+
+"Have you said your prayers?" inquired the judge:.
+
+"No, sir.  I ain't said 'em yet."
+
+"Well, say them now.  Religion is as becoming in the young as it
+is respectable in the aged.  I'll not disturb you to-night, for
+it is God's will that I should stay up and get very drunk."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+BOON COMPANIONS
+
+
+Some time later the judge was aware of a step on the path beyond
+his door, and glancing up, saw the tall figure of a man pause on
+his threshold.  A whispered curse slipped from between his lips.
+Aloud he said:
+
+"Is that you, Mr. Mahaffy?"  He got no reply, but the tall
+figure, propelled by very long legs, stalked into the shanty and
+a pair of keen, restless eyes deeply set under a high, bald head
+were bent curiously upon him.
+
+"I take it I'm intruding," the new-comer said sourly.
+
+"Why should you think that, Solomon Mahaffy?  When has my door
+been closed on you?" the judge asked, but there was a guilty
+deepening of the flush on his face.  Mr. Mahaffy glanced at the
+jug, at the half-emptied glass within convenient reach of the
+judge's hand, lastly at the judge himself, on whose flame-colored
+visage his eyes rested longest.
+
+"I've heard said there was honor among thieves," he remarked.
+
+"I know of no one better fitted to offer an opinion on so
+delicate a point than just yourself, Mahaffy," said the judge,
+with a thick little ripple of laughter.
+
+But Solomon Mahaffy's long face did not relax in its set
+expression.
+
+"I saw your light," he explained, "but you seem to be raising
+first-rate hell all by yourself."
+
+"Oh, be reasonable, Solomon.  You'd gone down to the steamboat
+landing," said the judge plaintively.  By way of answer, Mahaffy
+shot him a contemptuous glance.  "Take a chair--do, Solomon!"
+entreated the judge.
+
+"I don't force my society on any man, Mr. Price," said Mahaffy,
+with austere hostility of tone.  The judge winced at the "Mr."
+That registered the extreme of Mahaffy's disfavor.
+
+"You feel bitter about this, Solomon?" he said.
+
+"I do," said Mahaffy, in a tone of utter finality.
+
+"You'll feel better with three fingers of this trickling through
+your system," observed the judge, pushing a glass toward him.
+
+"When did I ever sneak a jug into my shanty?" asked Mahaffy
+sternly, evidently conscious of entire rectitude in this matter.
+
+"I deplore your choice of words, Solomon," said the judge.  "You
+know damn well that if you'd been here I couldn't have got past
+your place with that jug!  But let's deal with conditions.
+Here's the jug, with some liquor left in it--here's a glass.  Now
+what more do you want?"
+
+"Have I ever been caught like this?" demanded Mahaffy.
+
+"No, you've invariably manifested the honorable disabilities of a
+gentleman.  But don't set it all down to virtue.  Maybe you
+haven't had the opportunity, maybe the temptation never came and
+found you weak and thirsty.  Put away your sinful pride, Solomon
+--a sot like you has no business with the little niceties of
+selfrespect."
+
+"Do I drink alone?" insisted Mahaffy doggedly.
+
+"I never give you the chance," retorted his friend.  Mr. Mahaffy
+drew near the table.  "Sit down," urged the judge.
+
+"I hope you feel mean?" said Mahaffy.
+
+"If it's any satisfaction to you, I do," admitted the judge.
+
+"You ought to." Mahaffy drew forward a chair.  The judge filled
+his glass.  But Mr. Mahaffy's lean face, with its long jaws and
+high cheek-bones, over which the sallow skin was tightly drawn,
+did not relax in its forbidding expression, even when he had
+tossed off his first glass.
+
+"I love to see you in a perfectly natural attitude like that,
+Solomon, with your arm crooked.  What's the news from the
+landing?"
+
+Mahaffy brought his fist down on the table.
+
+"I heard the boat churning away round back of the bend, then I
+saw the lights, and she tied up and they tossed off the freight.
+Then she churned away again and her lights got back of the trees
+on the bank.  There was the lap of waves on the shore, and I was
+left with the half-dozen miserable loafers who'd crawled out to
+see the boat come in.  That's the news six days a week!"
+
+By the river had come the judge, tentatively hopeful, but at
+heart expecting nothing, therefore immune to disappointment and
+equipped for failure.  By the river had come Mr. Mahaffy, as
+unfit as the judge himself, and for the same reason, but sour and
+bitter with the world, believing always in the possibility of
+some miracle of regeneration.
+
+Pleasantville's weekly paper, The Genius of Liberty, had dwelt at
+length upon those distinguished services judge Slocum Price had
+rendered the nation in war and peace, the judge having graciously
+furnished an array of facts otherwise difficult of access.  That
+he was drunk at the time had but added to the splendor of the
+narrative.  He had placed his ripe wisdom, the talents he had so
+assiduously cultivated, at the services of his fellow citizens.
+He was prepared to represent them in any or all the courts.  But
+he had remained undisturbed in his condition of preparedness;
+that erudite brain was unconcerned with any problem beyond
+financing his thirst at the tavern, where presently ingenuity,
+though it expressed itself with a silver tongue, failed him, and
+he realized that the river's spent floods had left him stranded
+with those other odds and ends of worthless drift that cumbered
+its sun-scorched mud banks.
+
+Something of all this passed through his mind as he sat there
+sodden and dreamy, with the one fierce need of his nature quieted
+for the moment.  He had been stranded before, many times, in
+those long years during which he had moved steadily toward a
+diminishing heritage; indeed, nothing that was evil could contain
+the shock of a new experience.  He had fought and lost all his
+battles--bitter struggles to think of even now, after the lapse
+of years, and the little he had to tell of himself was an
+intricate mingling of truth and falsehood, grotesque
+exaggeration, purposeless mendacity.
+
+He and Mahaffy had met exactly one month before, on the deck of
+the steamer from which they had been put ashore at the river
+landing two miles from Pleasantville.  Mahaffy's historic era had
+begun just there.  Apparently he had no past of which he could be
+brought to speak.  He admitted having been born in Boston some
+sixty years before, and was a printer by trade; further than
+this, he had not revealed himself, drunk or sober.
+
+At the judge's elbow Mr. Mahaffy changed his position with
+nervous suddenness.  Then he folded his long arms.
+
+"You asked if there was any news, Price; while we were waiting
+for the boat a raft tied up to the bank; the fellow aboard of it
+had a man he'd fished up out of the river, a man who'd been
+pretty well cut to pieces."
+
+"Who was he?" asked the judge.
+
+"Nobody knew, and he wasn't conscious.  I shouldn't be surprised
+if he never opens his lips again.  When the doctor had looked to
+his cuts, the fellow on the raft cast off and went on down the
+Elk."
+
+It occurred to the judge that he himself had news to impart.  He
+must account for the boy's presence.
+
+"While you've been taking your whiff of life down at the
+steamboat landing, Mahaffy, I've been experiencing a most
+extraordinary coincidence."  The judge paused.  By a sullen glare
+in his deep-sunk eyes Mr. Mahaffy seemed to bid him go on.  "Back
+east--" the judge jerked his thumb with an indefinite gesture
+"back east at my ancestral home--" Mahaffy snorted harshly.  "You
+don't believe I had an ancestral home?--well, I had!  It was of
+brick, sir, with eight Corinthian columns across the front,
+having a spacious paneled hall sixty feet long.  I had the
+distinguished honor to entertain General Andrew Jackson there."
+
+"Did you get those dimensions out of the jug?" inquiry Mahaffy,
+with a frightful bark that was intended for a sarcastic laugh.
+
+"Sir, it is not in your province to judge me by my present
+degraded associates.  Near the house I have described--my
+father's and his father's before him, and mine now--but for the
+unparalleled misfortunes which have pursued me--lived a family by
+the name of Hazard.  And when I went to the war of 'i2--"
+
+"What were you in that bloody time, a sutler?" inquired Mahaffy
+insultingly.
+
+"No, sir--a colonel of infantry!--I say, when I went to the war,
+one of these Hazards accompanied me as my orderly.  His grandson
+is back of that curtain now--asleep--in my bed!"  Mahaffy put
+down his glass.
+
+"You were like this once before," he said darkly.  But at that
+instant the shuck tick rattled noisily at some movement of the
+sleeping boy.  Mahaffy quitted his chair, and crossing the room,
+drew the quilt aside.  A glance sufficed to assure him that in
+part, at least, the judge spoke the truth.  He let the curtain
+fall into place and resumed his chair.
+
+"He's an orphan, Solomon; a poor, friendless orphan.  Another
+might have turned him away from his door--I didn't; I hadn't the
+heart to.  I bespeak your sympathy for him."
+
+"Who is he?" asked Mahaffy.
+
+"Haven't I just told you?" said the judge reproachfully.  Mahaffy
+laughed.
+
+"You've told me something.  Who is he?"
+
+"His name is Hannibal Wayne Hazard.  Wait until he wakes up and
+see if it isn't."
+
+"Sure he isn't kin to you?" said Mahaffy.
+
+"Not a drop of my blood flows in the veins of any living
+creature," declared the judge with melancholy impressiveness.  He
+continued with deepening feeling, "All I shall leave to posterity
+is my fame."
+
+"Speaking of posterity, which isn't present, Mr. Price, I'll say
+it is embarrassed by the attention," observed Mahaffy.
+
+There was a long silence between them.  Mr. Mahaffy drank, and
+when he did not drink he bit his under lip and studied the judge.
+This was always distressing to the latter gentleman.  Mahaffy's
+silence he could never penetrate.  What was back of it--judgment,
+criticism, disbelief--what?  Or was it the silence of emptiness?
+Was Mahaffy dumb merely because he could think of nothing to say,
+or did his silence cloak his feelings-and what were his feelings?
+Did his meditations outrun his habitually insulting speech as he
+bit his under lip and glared at him?  The judge always felt
+impelled to talk at such times, while Mahaffy, by that silence of
+his, seemed to weigh and condemn whatever he said.
+
+The moon had slipped below the horizon.  Pleasantville had long
+since gone to bed; it was only the judge's window that gave its
+light to the blackness of the night.  There was a hoofbeat on the
+road.  It came nearer and nearer, and presently sounded just
+beyond the door.  Then it ceased, and a voice said:
+
+"Hullo, there!"  The judge scrambled to his feet, and taking up
+the candle, stepped, or rather staggered, into the yard.  Mahaffv
+followed him.
+
+"What's wanted?" asked the judge, as he lurched up to horse and
+rider, holding his candle aloft.  The light showed a tail fellow
+mounted on a handsome bay horse.  It was Murrell.
+
+"Is there an inn hereabouts?" he asked.
+
+"You'll find one down the road a ways," said Mahaffy.  The judge
+said nothing.  He was staring up at Murrell with drunken gravity.
+
+"Have either of you gentlemen seen a boy go through here to-day?
+A boy about ten years old?" Murrell glanced from one to the
+other.  Mr. Mahaffy's thin lips twisted themselves into a
+sarcastic smile.  He turned to the judge, who spoke up quickly.
+
+"Did he carry a bundle and rifle?" he asked.  Murrell gave eager
+assent.
+
+"Well," said the judge, "he stopped here along about four o'clock
+and asked his way to the nearest river landing."  Murrell
+gathered up his reins, and then that fixed stare of the judge's
+seemed to arrest his attention.
+
+"You'll know me again," he observed.
+
+"Anywhere," said the judge.
+
+"I hope that's a satisfaction to you," said Murrell.
+
+"It ain't--none whatever," answered the judge promptly.  "For I
+don't value you--I don't value you that much!" and he snapped his
+fingers to illustrate his meaning.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE ORATOR Or THE DAY
+
+
+"Hanibal" the judge's voice and manner were rather stern.
+"Hannibal, a man rode by here last night on a big bay horse.  He
+said he was looking for a boy about ten years old--a boy with a
+bundle and rifle."  There was an awful pause.  Hannibal's heart
+stood still for a brief instant, then it began to beat with
+terrific thumps against his ribs.  "Who was that man, Hannibal?"
+
+"I--please I don't know--" gasped the child.
+
+"Hannibal, who was that man?" repeated the judge.
+
+"It were Captain Murrell."  The judge regarded him with a look of
+great steadiness.  He saw his small face go white, he saw the
+look of abject terror in his eyes.  The judge raised his fist and
+brought it down with a great crash on the table, so that the
+breakfast dishes leaped and rattled.  "We don't know any boy ten
+years old with a rifle and bundle!" he said.
+
+"Please--you won't let him take me away, judge I want to stop
+with you!" cried Hannibal.  He slipped from his chair, and
+passing about the table, siezed the judge by the hand.  The judge
+was visibly affected.
+
+"No!" he roared, with a great oath.  "He shan't have you--I'll
+see him in the farthest corner of hell first!  Is he kin to you?"
+
+"No," said Hannibal.
+
+"Took you to raise, did he--and abused you--infernal hypocrite!"
+cried the judge with righteous wrath.
+
+"He tried to get me away from my Uncle Bob.  He's been following
+us since we crossed the mountains."
+
+"Where is your Uncle Bob?"
+
+"He's dead."  And the child began to weep bitterly.  Much
+puzzled, the judge regarded him in silence for a moment, then
+bent and lifted him into his lap.
+
+"There, my son--" he said soothingly.  "Now you tell me when he
+died, and all about it."
+
+"He were killed.  It were only yesterday, and I can't forget him!
+I don't want to--but it hurts--it hurts terrible!"  Hannibal
+buried his head in the judge's shoulder and sobbed aloud.
+Presently his small hands stole about the judge's neck, and that
+gentleman experienced a strange thrill of pleasure.
+
+"Tell me how he died, Hannibal," he urged gently.  In a voice
+broken by sobs the child began the story of their flight, a
+confused narrative, which the judge followed with many a puzzled
+shake of the head.  But as he reached his climax--that cry he had
+heard at the tavern, the men in the lane with their burden--he
+became more and more coherent and his ideas clothed themselves in
+words of dreadful simplicity and directness.  The judge
+shuddered.  "Can such things be?" he murmured at last.
+
+"You won't let him take me?"
+
+"I never unsay my words," said the judge grandly.  "With God's
+help I'll be the instrument for their destruction."  He frowned
+with a preternatural severity.  Eh--if he could turn a trick like
+that, it would pull him up!  There would be no more jeers and
+laughter.
+
+What credit and standing it would give him!  His thoughts slipped
+along this fresh channel.  What a prosecution he would conduct
+--what a whirlwind of eloquence he would loose!  He began to
+breathe hard.  His name should go from end to end of the state!
+No man could be great without opportunity--for years he had known
+this--but here was opportunity at last!  Then he remembered what
+Mahaffy had told him of the man on the raft.  This Slosson's
+tavern was probably on the upper waters of the Elk.  Yancy had
+been thrown in the river and had been picked up in a dying
+condition.  "Hannibal," be said, "Solomon Mahaffy, who was here
+last night, told me he saw down at the river landing, a man who
+had been fished up out of the Elk--a man who had been roughly
+handled."
+
+"Were it my Uncle Bob?" cried Hannibal, lifting a swollen face to
+his.
+
+"Dear lad, I don't know," said the judge sympathetically.  "Some
+people on a raft had picked him up out of the river.  He was
+unconscious and no one knew him.  He was apparently a stranger in
+these parts."
+
+"It were Uncle Bob!  It were Uncle Bob--I know it were my Uncle
+Bob!  I must go find him!" and Hannibal slipped from the judge's
+lap and ran for his rifle and bundle.
+
+"Stop a bit!" cried the judge.  "He was taken on past here, and
+he was badly injured.  Now, if it was your Uncle Bob, he'll come
+back the moment he is able to travel.  Meantime, you must remain
+under my protection while we investigate this man Slosson."
+
+But alas--that thoroughfare which is supposed to be paved
+exclusively with good resolutions, had benefited greatly by
+Slocum Price's labors in the past, and he was destined to toil
+still in its up-keep.  He borrowed the child's money and spent
+it, and if any sense of shame smote his torpid conscience, he hid
+it manfully.  Not so Mr. Mahaffy; for while he profited by his
+friend's act, he told that gentleman just what he thought of him
+with insulting candor.  On the eighth day there was sobriety for
+the pair.  Deep gloom visited Mr. Mahaffy, and the judge was a
+prey to melancholy.
+
+It was Saturday, and in Pleasantville a jail-raising was in
+progress.  During all the years of its corporate dignity the
+village had never boasted any building where the evil-doer could
+be placed under restraint; hence had arisen its peculiar habit of
+dealing with crime; but a leading citizen had donated half an
+acre of ground lying midway between the town and the river
+landing as a site for the proposed structure, and the scattered
+population of the region had assembled for the raising.  Nor was
+Pleasantville unprepared to make immediate use of the jail, since
+the sheriff had in custody a free negro who had knifed another
+free negro and was awaiting trial at the next term of court.
+
+"We don't want to get there too early," explained the judge, as
+they quitted the cabin.  "We want to miss the work, but be on
+hand for the celebration."
+
+"I suppose we may confidently look to you to favor us with a few
+eloquent words?" said Mr. Mahaffy.
+
+"And why not, Solomon?" asked the judge.
+
+"Why not, indeed!" echoed Mr. Mahaffy.
+
+The opportunity he craved was not denied him.  The crowd was like
+most southwestern crowds of the period, and no sooner did the
+judge appear than there were clamorous demands for a speech.  He
+cast a glance of triumph at Mahaffy, and nimbly mounted a
+convenient stump.  He extolled the climate of middle Tennessee,
+the unsurpassed fertility of the soil; he touched on the future
+that awaited Pleasantville; he apostrophized the jail; this
+simple structure of logs in the shadow of the primeval woods was
+significant of their love of justice and order; it was a suitable
+place for the detention of a citizen of a great republic; it was
+no mediaeval dungeon, but a forest-embowered retreat where,
+barring mosquitoes and malaria, the party under restraint would
+be put to no needless hardship; he would have the occasional
+companionship of the gentlemanly sheriff; his friends, with such
+wise and proper restrictions as the law saw fit to impose, could
+come and impart the news of the day to him through the chinks of
+the logs.
+
+"I understand you have dealt in a hasty fashion with one or two
+horse-thieves," he continued.  "Also with a gambler who was put
+ashore here from a river packet and subsequently became involved
+in a dispute with a late citizen of this place touching the
+number of aces in a pack of cards.  It is not for me to
+criticize!  What I may term the spontaneous love of justice is
+the brightest heritage of a free people.  It is this same
+commendable ability to acquit ourselves of our obligations that
+is making us the wonder of the world!  But don't let us forget
+the law--of which it is an axiom, that it is not the severity of
+punishment, but the certainty of it, that holds the wrong-doer in
+check!  With this safe and commodious asylum the plow line can
+remain the exclusive aid to agriculture.  If a man murders, curb
+your natural impulse!  Give him a fair trial, with eminent
+counsel!"  The judge tried not to look self-conscious when he
+said this.  "If he is found guilty, I still say, don't lynch him!
+Why?  Because by your hasty act you deny the public the elevating
+and improving spectacle of a legal execution!"  When the applause
+had died out, a lank countryman craning his neck for a sight of
+the sheriff, bawled out over the heads of the crowd:
+
+"Where's your nigger?  We want to put him in here!"
+
+"I reckon he's gone fishin'.  I never seen the beat of that
+nigger to go fishin'," said the sheriff.
+
+"Whoop!  Ain't you goin' to put him in here?" yelled the
+countryman.
+
+"It's a mighty lonely spot for a nigger," said the sheriff
+doubtingly.
+
+"Lonely?  Well, suppose he ups and lopes out of this?"
+
+"You don't know that nigger," rejoined the sheriff warmly.  "He
+ain't missed a meal since I had him in custody.  Just as regular
+as the clock strikes he's at the back door.  Good habits--why,
+that darky is a lesson to most white folks!"
+
+"I don't care a cuss about that nigger, but what's the use of
+building a jail if a body ain't goin' to use it?"
+
+"Well, there's some sense in that," agreed the sheriff.
+
+"There's a whole heap of sense in it!"
+
+"I suggest"--the speaker was a young lawyer from the next county
+--"I suggest that a committee be appointed to wait on the nigger
+at the steamboat landing and acquaint him with the fact that with
+his assistance we wish completely to furnish the jail."
+
+"I protest--" cried the judge.  "I protest--" he repeated
+vigorously.  "Pride of race forbids that I should be a party to
+the degradation of the best of civilization!  Is your jail to be
+christened to its high office by a nigger?  Is this to be the
+law's apotheosis?  No, sir!  No nigger is worthy the honor of
+being the first prisoner here!"  This was a new and striking
+idea.  The crowd regarded the judge admiringly.  Certainly here
+was a man of refined feeling.
+
+"That's just the way I feel about it," said the sheriff.  "If I'd
+athought there was any call for him I wouldn't have let him go
+fishing, I'd have kept him about."
+
+"Oh, let the nigger fish--he has powerful luck.  What's he usin',
+Sheriff; worms or minnies?"
+
+"Worms," said the sheriff shortly.
+
+Presently the crowd drifted away in the direction of the tavern.
+Hannibal meantime had gone down to the river.  He haunted its
+banks as though he expected to see his Uncle Bob appear any
+moment.  The judge and Mahaffy had mingled with the others in the
+hope of free drinks, but in this hope there lurked the germ of a
+bitter disappointment.  There was plenty of drinking, but they
+were not invited to join in this pleasing rite, and after a
+period of great mental anguish Mahaffy parted with the last stray
+coin in the pocket of his respectable black trousers, and while
+his flask was being filled the judge indulged in certain winsome
+gallantries with the fat landlady.
+
+"La, Judge Price, how you do run on!" she said with a coquettish
+toss of her curls.
+
+"That's the charm of you, ma'am," said the judge.  He leaned
+across the bar and, sinking his voice to a husky whisper, asked,
+"Would it be perfectly convenient for you to extend me a limited
+credit?"
+
+"Now, Judge Price, you know a heap better than to ask me that!"
+she answered, shaking her head.
+
+"No offense, ma'am," said the judge, hiding his disappointment,
+and with Mahaffy he quitted the bar.
+
+"Why don't you marry the old girl?  You could drink yourself to
+death in six months," said Mahaffy.  "That would be a speculation
+worth while--and while you live you could fondle those curls!"
+
+"Maybe I'll be forced to it yet," responded the judge with gloomy
+pessimism.
+
+With the filling of Mahaffy's flask the important event of the
+day was past, and both knew it was likely to retain its
+preeminence for a terrible and indefinite period; a thought that
+enriched their thirst as it increased their gravity while they
+were traversing the stretch of dusty road that lay between the
+cavern and the judge's shanty.  When they had settled themselves
+in their chairs before the door, Mahaffy, who was notably jealous
+of his privileges, drew the cork from the flask and took the
+first pull at its contents.  The judge counted the swallows as
+registered by that useful portion of Mahaffy's anatomy known as
+his Adam's apple.  After a breathless interval, Mahaffy detached
+himself from the flask and civilly passing the cuff of his coat
+about its neck, handed it over to the judge.  In the unbroken
+silence that succeeded the flask passed swiftly from hand to
+hand, at length Mahaffy held it up to the light.  It was
+two-thirds empty, and a sigh stole from between his thin lips.
+The judge reached out a tremulous hand.  He was only too familiar
+with his friend's distressing peculiarities.
+
+"Not yet!" he begged thickly.
+
+"Why not?" demanded Mahaffy fiercely.  "Is it your liquor or
+mine?"  He quitted his chair end stalked to the well where he
+filled the flask with water.  Infinitely disgusted, the judge
+watched the sacrilege.  Mahaffy resumed his chair and again the
+flask went its rounds.
+
+"It ain't so bad," said the judge after a time, but with a
+noticeable lack of enthusiasm.
+
+"Were you in shape to put anything better than water into it, Mr.
+Price?"  The judge winced.  He always winced at that "Mr."
+
+"Well, I wouldn't serve myself such a trick as that," he said
+with decision.  "When I take liquor, it's one thing; and when I
+want water, it's another."
+
+"It is, indeed," agreed Mahaffy.
+
+"I drink as much clear water as is good for a man of my
+constitution," said the judge combatively.  "My talents are
+wasted here," he resumed, after a little pause.  "I've brought
+them the blessings of the law, but what does it signify!"
+
+"Why did you ever come here?" Mahaffy spoke sharply.
+
+"I might ask the same question of you, and in the same offensive
+tone," said the judge.
+
+"May I ask, not wishing to take a liberty, were you always the
+same old pauper you've been since I've known you?" inquired
+Mahaffy.  The judge maintained a stony silence.
+
+The heat deepened in the heart of the afternoon.  The sun, a ball
+of fire, slipped back of the tree-tops.  Thick shadows stole
+across the stretch of dusty road.  Off in the distance there was
+the sound of cowbell.  Slowly these came nearer and nearer--as
+the golden light slanted, sifting deeper and deeper into the
+woods.
+
+They could see the crowd that came and went about the tavern,
+they caught the distant echo of its mirth.
+
+"Common--quite common," said the judge with somber melancholy.
+
+"I didn't see anything common," said Mahaffy sourly.  "The drinks
+weren't common by a long sight."
+
+"I referred to the gathering in its social aspect, Solomon,"
+explained the judge; "the illiberal spirit that prevailed, which,
+I observe, did not escape you."
+
+"Skunks!" said Mahaffy.
+
+"Not a man present had the public spirit to set 'em up," lamented
+the judge.  "They drank in pairs, and I'd blistered my throat at
+their damn jail-raising!  What sort of a fizzle would it have
+been if I hadn't been on hand to impart distinction to the
+occasion ?"
+
+"I don't begrudge 'em their liquor," said Mahaffy with acid
+dignity.
+
+"I do," interrupted the judge.  "I hope it's poison to 'em.
+
+"It will be in the long run, if it's any comfort to you to know
+it."
+
+"It's no comfort, it's not near quick enough," said the judge
+relentlessly.  The sudden noisy clamor of many voices,
+highpitched and excited, floated out to them under the hot sky.
+"I wonder--" began the judge, and paused as he saw the crowd
+stream into the road before the tavern.  Then a cloud of dust
+enveloped it, a cloud of dust that came from the trampling of
+many pairs of feet, and that swept toward them, thick and
+impenetrable, and no higher than a tall man's head in the
+lifeless air.  "I wonder if we missed anything" continued the
+judge, finishing what he had started to say.
+
+The score or more of men were quite near, and the judge and
+Mahaffy made out the tall figure of the sheriff in the lead.  And
+then the crowd, very excited, very dusty, very noisy and very
+hot, flowed into the judge's front yard.  For a brief moment that
+gentleman fancied Pleasantville had awakened to a fitting sense
+of its obligation to him and that it was about to make amends for
+its churlish lack of hospitality.  He rose from his chair, and
+with a splendid florid gesture, swept off his hat.
+
+"It's the pussy fellow!" cried a voice.
+
+"Oh, shut up--don't you think I know him?" retorted the sheriff
+tartly.
+
+"Gentlemen--" began the judge blandly.
+
+"Get the well-rope!"
+
+The judge was rather at loss properly to interpret these varied
+remarks.  He was not long left in doubt.  The sheriff stepped to
+his side and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Mr. Slocum Price, or whatever your name is, your little game is
+up!"
+
+"Get the well-rope!  Oh, hell--won't some one get the well-rope?"
+The voice rose into a wail of entreaty.
+
+The judge's eyes, rather startled, slid around in their sockets.
+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.  This
+was something like--it had a taste for the man-hunt!  The sheriff
+snatched away the rope and dealt the officious gentleman a savage
+blow on the chin that sent him staggering backward into the arms
+of his friends.
+
+"Now, see here, now--I'm going to arrest this old faller!  I am
+going to put him in jail, and I ain't going to have no nonsense
+--do you hear me?" he expostulated.
+
+"I can explain--" cried the judge.
+
+"Make him give me my money!" wailed Mrs Walker.
+
+"Jezebel!" roared the judge, in a passion of rage.
+
+"Ca'm's the word, or you'll get 'em started!" whispered the
+sheriff.  The judge looked fearfully around.  At his side stood
+Mahaffy, a yellow pallor splotching his thin cheeks.  He seemed
+to be holding himself there by an effort.
+
+"Speak to them, Solomon--speak to them--you know how I came by
+the money!  Speak to them--you know I am innocent!" cried the
+judge, clutching his friend by the arm.  Mahaffy opened his thin
+lips, but the crowd drowned his voice in a roar.
+
+"He's his "partner--"
+
+"There's no evidence against him," said the sheriff.
+
+A tall fellow, in a fringed hunting-shirt, shook a long finger
+under Mahaffy's aquiline nose.
+
+"You scoot--that's what--you make tracks!  And if we ever see
+your ugly face about here again, we'll--"
+
+"You'll what?" inquired Mahaffy.
+
+"We'll fix you out with feathers that won't molt, that's what!"
+
+Mr. Mahaffy seemed to hesitate.  His lean hands opened and
+closed, and he met the eyes of the crowd with a bitter, venomous
+stare.  Some one gave him a shove and he staggered forward a
+step, snapping out a curse.  Before he could recover himself the
+shove was repeated.
+
+"Lope on out of here!" yelled the tall fellow, who had first
+challenged his right to remain in Pleasantville or its environs.
+As the crowd fell apart to make way for him, willing hands were
+extended to give him the needed impetus, and without special
+volition of his own,
+
+Mahaffy was hurried toward the road.  His hat was knocked flat on
+his head--he turned with an angry snarl, the very embodiment of
+hate--but again he was thrust forward.  And then, somehow, his
+walk became a run and the crowd started after him with delighted
+whoopings.  Once more, and for the last time, he faced about,
+giving the judge a hopeless, despairing glance.  His tormentors
+were snatching up sods and stones and he had no choice.  He
+turned, his long strides taking him swiftly over the ground, with
+the air full of missiles at his back.
+
+Before he had gone a hundred yards he abandoned the road and,
+turning off across an unfenced field, ran toward the woods and
+swampy bottom.  Twenty men were in chase behind him.  The
+judge was the sheriff's prisoner--that official had settled that point
+--but Mr. Mahaffy was common property, it was his cruel privilege
+to furnish excitement; his keen rage was almost equal to the fear
+that urged him on.  Then the woods closed about him.  His long
+legs, working tirelessly, carried him over fallen logs and
+through tai.  tangeled thickets, the voices behind him growing
+more and more distant as he ran.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE FAMILY ON THE RAFT
+
+
+That would unquestionably have been the end of Bob Yancy when he
+was shot out into the muddy waters of the Elk River, had not Mr.
+Richard Keppel Cavendish, variously known as Long-Legged Dick,
+and Chills-and-Fever Cavendish, of Lincoln County, in the state
+of Tennessee, some months previously and after unprecedented
+mental effort on his part, decided that Lincoln County was no
+place for him.  When he had established this idea firmly in his
+own mind and in the mind of Polly, his wife, he set about solving
+the problem of transportation.
+
+Mr. Cavendish's paternal grandparent had drifted down the Holston
+and Tennessee; and Mr. Cavendish's father, in his son's youth,
+had poled up the Elk.  Mr. Cavendish now determined to float down
+the Elk to its juncture with the Tennessee, down the Tennessee to
+the Ohio, and if need be, down the Ohio to the Mississippi, and
+keep drifting until he found some spot exactly suited to his
+taste.  Temperamentally, he was well adapted to drifting.  No
+conception of vicarious activity could have been more congenial.
+
+With this end in view he had toiled through late winter and early
+spring, building himself a raft on which to transport his few
+belongings and his numerous family; there were six little
+Cavendishes, and they ranged in years from four to eleven; there
+was in addition the baby, who was always enumerated separately.
+This particular infant Mr. Cavendish said he wouldn't take a
+million dollars for.  He usually added feelingly that he wouldn't
+give a piece of chalk for another one.
+
+June found him aboard his raft with all his earthly possessions
+bestowed about him, awaiting the rains and freshets that were to
+waft him effortless into a newer country where he should have a
+white man's chance.  At last the rains came, and he cast off from
+the bank at that unsalubrious spot where his father had elected
+to build his cabin on a strip of level bottom subject to periodic
+inundation.  Wishing fully to profit by the floods and reach the
+big water without delay, Cavendish ran the raft twenty-four hours
+at a stretch, sleeping by day while Polly managed the great
+sweep, only calling him when some dangerous bit of the river was
+to be navigated.  Thus it happened that as Murrell and Slosson
+were dragging Yancy down the lane, Cavendish was just rounding a
+bend in the Elk, a quarter of a mile distant.  Leaning loosely
+against the long handle of his sweep, he was watching the lane of
+bright water that ran between the black shadows cast by the trees
+on either bank.  He was in shirt and trousers, barefoot and
+bareheaded, and his face, mild and contemplative, wore an
+expression of dreamy contentment.
+
+Suddenly its expression changed.  He became alert and watchful.
+He had heard a dull splash.  Thinking that some tree had been
+swept into the flood, he sought to pierce the darkness that lay
+along the shore.  Five or six minutes passed as the raft glided
+along without sound.  He was about to relapse into his former
+attitude of listless ease when he caught sight of some object in
+the eddy that swept alongside.  Mr. Cavendish promptly detached
+himself from the handle of the sweep and ran to the edge of the
+raft.
+
+"Good Lord--what's that!" he gasped, but he already knew it was a
+face, livid and blood-streaked.  Dropping on his knees he reached
+out a pair of long arms and made a dexterous grab, and his
+fingers closed on the collar of Yancy's shirt.  "Neighbor, I
+certainly have got you!" said Cavendish, between his teeth.  He
+drew Yancy close alongside the raft, and, slipping a hand under
+each arm, pulled him clear of the water.  The swift current swept
+the raft on down the stream.  It rode fairly in the center of the
+lane of light, but no eye had observed its passing.  Mr.
+Cavendish stood erect and stared down at the blood-stained face,
+then he dropped on his knees again and began a hurried
+examination of the still figure.  "There's a little life here
+--not much, but some--you was well worth fishing up!" be said
+approvingly, after a brief interval.  "Polly!" he called, raising
+his voice.
+
+This brought Mrs. Cavendish from one of the two cabins that
+occupied the center of the raft.  She was a young woman, still
+very comely, though of a matronly plumpness.  She was in her
+nightgown, and when she caught sight of Yancy she uttered a
+shriek and fled back into the shanty.
+
+"I declare, Dick, you might ha' told a body you wa'n't alone!"
+she said reproachfully.
+
+Her cry had aroused the other denizens of the raft.  The tow
+heads of the six little Cavendishes rose promptly from a long
+bolster in the smaller of the two shanties, and as promptly six
+little Cavendishes, each draped in a single non-committal
+garment, apparently cut by one pattern and not at all according
+to the wearer's years or length of limb, tumbled forth from their
+shelter.
+
+"Sho', Polly, he's senseless!  But you dress and come here quick.
+Now, you young folks, don't you tetch him!" for the six small
+Cavendishes, excited beyond measure, were crowding and shoving
+for a nearer sight of Yancy.  They began to pelt their father
+with questions.  Who was it?  Sho', in the river?  Sho', all cut
+up like that--who'd cut him?  Had he hurt himself?  Was he
+throwed in?  When did pop fish him out?  Was he dead?  Why did he
+lay like that and not move or speak--sho'!  This and much more
+was flung at Mr. Cavendish all in one breath, and each eager
+questioner seized him by the hand, the dangling sleeve of his
+shirt, or his trousers--they clutched him from all sides.  "I
+never seen such a family!" said Mr. Cavendish helplessly.  "Now,
+you-all shut up, or I 'low I'll lay into you!"
+
+Mrs. Cavendish's appearance created a diversion in his favor.
+The six rushed on her tumultously.  They seized her hands or
+struggled for a fragment of her skirt to hold while they poured
+out their tale.  Pop had fished up a man--he'd been throwed in
+the river!  Pop didn't know if he was dead or not--he was all cut
+and bloody
+
+"I declare, I've a mind to skin you if you don't keep still!
+Miss Constance," Polly addressed her eldest child, "I'm surprised
+at you!  You might be a heathen savage for all you got on your
+back--get into some duds this instant!"  Cavendish was on his
+knees again beside Yancy, and Polly, by a determined effort, rid
+herself of the children.  "Why, he's a grand-looking man, ain't
+he?" she cried.  "La, what a pity!"
+
+"You can feel his heart beat, and he's bleeding some," said
+Cavendish.
+
+"Let me see--just barely flutters, don't it?  Henry, go mind the
+sweep and see we don't get aground!  Keppel, you start a fire and
+warm some water!  Connie, you tear up my other petticoat for
+bandagesnow, stir around, all of you!"  And then began a period
+of breathless activity.  They first lifted Yancy into the circle
+of illumination cast by the fire Keppel had started on the hearth
+of flat stones before the shanties.  Then, with Constance to hold
+a pan of warm water, Mrs. Cavendish deftly bathed the gaping
+wound in Yancy's shoulder where Murrell had driven his knife.
+This she bandaged with strips torn from her petticoat.  Next she
+began on the ragged cut left by Slosson's club.
+
+"He's got a right to be dead!" said Cavendish.
+
+"Get the shears, Dick--I must snip away some of his hair."
+
+All this while the four half-naked youngest Cavendishes, very
+still now, stood about the stone hearth in the chill dawn and
+watched their mother's surgery with a breathless interest.  Only
+the outcast Henry at the sweep ever and anon lifted his voice
+between sobs of mingled rage and disappointment, and demanded
+what was doing.
+
+"Think he is going to die, Polly?" whispered Cavendish at length.
+Their heads, hers very black and glossy, his very blond, were
+close together as they bent above the injured man.
+
+"I never say a body's going to die until he's dead," said Polly.
+"He's still breathing, and a Christian has got to do what they
+can.  Don't you think you ought to tie up?"
+
+"The freshet's leaving us.  I'll run until we hit the big water
+down by Pleasantville, and then tie up," said Cavendish.
+
+"I reckon we'd better lift him on to one of the beds--get his wet
+clothes off and wrap him up warm," said Polly.
+
+"Oh, put him in our bed!" cried all the little Cavendishes.
+
+And Yancy was borne into the smaller of the two shanties, where
+presently his bandaged head rested on the long communal pillow.
+Then his wet clothes were hung up to dry along with a portion of
+the family wash which fluttered on a rope stretched between the
+two shanties.
+
+The raft had all the appearance of a cabin dooryard.  There was,
+in addition to the two shelters of bark built over a light
+framework of poles, a pen which housed a highly domestic family
+of pigs, while half a dozen chickens enjoyed a restricted
+liberty.  With Yancy disposed of, the regular family life was
+resumed.  It was sun-up now.  The little Cavendishes, reluctant
+but overpersuaded, had their faces washed alongside and were
+dressed by Connie, while Mrs. Cavendish performed the same
+offices for the baby.  Then there was breakfast, from which Mr.
+Cavendish rose yawning to go to bed, where, before dropping off
+to sleep, he played with the baby.  This left Mrs. Cavendish in
+full command of her floating dooryard.  She smoked a reflective
+pipe, watching the river between puffs, and occasionally lending
+a hand at the sweeps.  Later the family wash engaged her.  It had
+neither beginning nor end, but serialized itself from day to day.
+Connie was already proficient at the tubs.  It was a knack she
+was in no danger of losing.
+
+Keppel and Henry took turns at the sweeps, while the three
+smaller children began to manifest a love for the water they had
+not seemed to possess earlier in the day.  They played along the
+edge of the raft, always in imminent danger of falling in, always
+being called back, or seized, just in time to prevent a
+catastrophe.  This ceaseless activity on their part earned them
+much in the way of cuffings, chastisements which Mrs. Cavendish
+administered with no great spirit.
+
+"Drat you, why don't you go look at the pore gentleman instead of
+posterin' a body 'most to death!" she demanded at length, and
+they stole off on tiptoe to stare at Yancy.  Presently Richard
+ran to his mother's side.
+
+"Come quick--he's mutterin' and mumblin' and moving his head!" he
+cried.  It w�s as the child said.  Yancy had roused from his
+heavy stupor.  Words almost inaudible and quite inarticulate were
+issuing from his lips and there was a restless movement of his
+head on the pillow.
+
+"He 'pears powerful distressed about something," said Mrs.
+Cavendish.  "I reckon I'd better give him a little stimulant
+now."
+
+While she was gone for the whisky, Connie, who had squatted down
+beside the bed, touched Yancy's hand which lay open.  Instantly
+his fingers closed about hers and he was silent; the movement of
+his head ceased abruptly; but when she sought to withdraw her
+hand he began to murmur again.
+
+"I declare, what he wants is some one to sit beside him!" said
+Mrs. Cavendish, who had returned with the whisky, a few drops of
+which she managed to force between Yancy's lips.  All the rest of
+that day some one of the children sat beside the wounded man, who
+was quiet and satisfied just as long as there was a small hand
+for him to hold.
+
+"He must be a family man," observed Mr. Cavendish when Polly told
+him of this.  "We'll tie up at Pleasantville landing and learn
+who he is."
+
+"He had ought to have a doctor to look at them cuts of his," said
+Mrs. Cavendish.
+
+It was late afternoon when the landing was reached.  Half a score
+of men were loafing about the woodyard on shore.  Mr. Cavendish
+made fast to a blasted tree, then he climbed the bank; the men
+regarding him incuriously as he approached.
+
+"Howdy," said Cavendish genially.
+
+"Howdy," they answered.
+
+"Where might I find the nearest doctor?" inquired Cavendish.
+
+"Within about six foot of you," said one of the group.
+
+"Meaning yourself?"
+
+"Meaning myself."
+
+Briefly Cavendish told the story of Yancy's rescue.
+
+"Now, Doc, I want you should cast an eye over the way we've
+dressed his cuts, and I want the rest of you to come and take a
+look at him and tell who he is and where he belongs," he said in
+conclusion.
+
+"I'll know him if he belongs within forty miles of here in any
+direction," said the doctor.  But he shook his head when his eye
+rested on Yancy.  "Never saw him," he said briefly.
+
+"How about them bandages, Doc?" demanded Cavendish.
+
+"Oh, I reckon they'll do," replied the doctor indifferently.
+
+"Will he live?"
+
+"I can't say.  You'll know all about that inside the next
+forty-eight hours.  Better let the rest have a look."
+
+"Just feel of them bandages--sho', I got money in my pants!"  Mr.
+Cavendish was rapidly losing his temper, yet he controlled
+himself until each man had taken a look at Yancy; but always with
+the same result--a shake of the head.  "I reckon I can leave him
+here?" Cavendish asked, when the last man had looked and turned
+away.
+
+"Leave him here--why?" demanded the doctor slowly.
+
+"Because I'm going on, that's why.  I'm headed for downstream,
+and he ain't in any sort of shape to say whether he wants to go
+or stop," explained Cavendish.
+
+"You picked him up, didn't you?" asked one of the men.
+
+"I certainly did," said Cavendish.
+
+"Well, I reckon if you're so anxious for him to stay hereabout,
+you'd better stop, yourself," said the owner of the woodyard.
+"There ain't a house within two miles of here but mine, and he
+don't go there!"
+
+"You're a healthy lot, you are!" said Cavendish.  "I wonder your
+largeness of heart ain't ruptured your wishbones long ago!"  So
+saying, he retired to the stern of his raft and leaned against
+the sweep-handle, apparently lost in thought.  His visitors
+climbed the bank and reestablished themselves on the wood-ranks.
+
+Presently Mr. Cavendish lifted his voice and addressed Polly and
+the six little Cavendishes at the other end of the raft.  He
+asserted that he was the only well-born man within a radius of
+perhaps a hundred miles--he excepted no one.  He knew who his
+father and mother were, and they had been legally married--he
+seemed to infer that this was not always the case.  Mr. Cavendish
+glanced toward the shore, then he lifted his voice again, giving
+it as his opinion that he was the only Christian seen in those
+parts in the last fifty years.  He offered to fight any gentleman
+who felt disposed to challenge this assertion.  He sprang
+suddenly aloft, knocked his bare heels together and uttered an
+ear-piercing whoop.  He subsided and gazed off into the red eye
+of the sun which was slipping back of the trees.  Presently he
+spoke again.  He offered to lick any gentleman who felt aggrieved
+by his previous remarks, for fifty cents, for a drink of whisky,
+for a chew of tobacco, for nothing--with one hand tied behind
+him!  He sprang aloft, cracked his heels together as before and
+crowed insultingly; then he subsided into silence.  An instant
+later he appeared stung by the acutest pangs of remorse.  In a
+cringing tone he begged Polly to forgive him for bringing her to
+such a place.  He bewailed that they had risked pollution by
+allowing any inhabitant of that region to set foot on the
+raft--he feared for the innocent minds of their children, and he
+implored her pardon.  Perhaps it was better that they should cast
+off at once--unless one of the gentlemen on shore felt himself
+insulted, in which event he would remain to fight.
+
+Then as he slowly worked the raft out toward the middle of the
+stream, he repeated all his former remarks, punctuating them with
+frequent whoops.  He recapitulated the terms on which he could be
+induced to fight-fifty cents, a drink of liquor, a chew of
+tobacco, nothing!  His shouts became fainter and fainter as the
+raft was swept down-stream, and finally died away in the
+distance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE JUDGE BREAKS JAIL
+
+
+The sheriff had brought the judge's supper.  He reported that the
+crowd was dispersing, and that on the whole public sentiment was
+not particularly hostile; indeed, he went so far as to say there
+existed a strong undercurrent of satisfaction that the jail
+should have so speedily justified itself.  Moreover, there was a
+disposition to exalt the judge as having furnished the crowning
+touch to the day's pleasure.
+
+"I reckon, sir, they'd have felt obliged to string you up if
+there wa'n't no jail," continued the sheriff lazily from the open
+door where he had seated himself.  "I don't say there ain't them
+who don't maintain you had ought to be strung up as it is, but
+people are funny, sir; the majority talk like they might wish to
+keep you here indefinite.  There's no telling when we'll get
+another prisoner.  Tomorrow the blacksmith will fix some iron
+bars to your window so folks can look in and see you.  It will
+give a heap more air to the place--"
+
+"Unless I do get more air, you will not be troubled long by me!"
+declared the judge in a tone of melancholy conviction.
+
+The building was intolerably hot, the advantages of ventilation
+having been a thing the citizens of Pleasantville had overlooked.
+But the judge was a reasonable soul; he was disposed to accept
+his immediate personal discomfort with a fine true philosophy;
+also, hope was stirring in his heart.  Hope was second nature
+with him, for had he not lived all these years with the odds
+against him?
+
+"You do sweat some, don't you?  Oh, well, a man can stand a right
+smart suffering from heat like this and not die.  It's the sun
+that's dangerous," remarked the sheriff consolingly.  "And you
+had ought to suffer, sir!  that's what folks are sent to jail
+for," he added.
+
+"You will kindly bear in mind, sir, that I have been convicted of
+no crime!" retorted the judge.
+
+"If you hadn't been so blamed particular you might have had
+company; politest darky you would meet anywhere.  Well, sir, I
+didn't think the boss orator of the day would be the first
+prisoner--the joke certainly is on you!"
+
+"I never saw such bloody-minded ruffians!  Keep them out and keep
+me in--all I ask is to vindicate myself in the eyes of the
+world," said the judge.
+
+"Well," began the sheriff severely, "ain't it enough to make 'em
+bloody-minded?  Any one of 'em might have taken your money and
+got stuck.  Just to think of that is what hets them up."  He
+regarded the judge with a glance of displeasure.  "I hate to see
+a man so durn unreasonable in his p'int of view.  And you picked
+a lady--a widow-lady--say, ain't you ashamed?"
+
+"Well, sir, what's going to happen to me?" demanded the judge
+angrily.
+
+"I reckon you'll be tried.  I reckon the law will deal with you
+--that is, if the public remains ca'm.  Maybe it will come to the
+conclusion that it'd prefer a lynching--people are funny." He
+seemed to detach himself from the possible current of events.
+
+"And, waking and sleeping, I have that before me!" cried the
+judge bitterly.
+
+"You had ought to have thought of that sooner, when you was
+unloading that money.  Why, it ain't even good counterfeit!  I
+wonder a man of your years wa'n't slicker."
+
+"Have you taken steps to find the boy, or Solomon Mahaffy?"
+inquired the judge.
+
+"For what?"
+
+"How is my innocence going to be established--how am I going to
+clear myself if my witnesses are hounded out of the county?"
+
+"I love to hear you talk, sir.  I told 'em at the raising to-day
+that I considered you one of the most eloquent minds I had ever
+listened to--but naturally, sir, you are too smart to be honest.
+You say you ain't been convicted yet; but you're going to be!
+There's quite a scramble for places on the jury already.  There
+was pistols drawed up at the tavern by some of our best people,
+sir, who got het up disputin' who was eligible to serve."  The
+judge groaned.  "You should be thankful them pistols wasn't
+drawed on you, sir," said the sheriff amiably.  "You've got a
+heap to be grateful about; for we've had one lynching, and we've
+rid one or two parties on a rail after giving 'em a coat of tar
+and feathers."
+
+The judge shuddered.  The sheriff continued placidly:
+
+"I'll take it you'll get all that's coming to you, sirsay about
+twenty years--that had ought to let you out easy.  Sort of round
+out your earthly career, and leave something due you t'other side
+of Jordan."
+
+"I suppose there is no use in my pointing out to you that I did
+not know the money was counterfeit, and that I was quite innocent
+of any intention to defraud Mrs. Walker?" said the judge, with a
+weary, exasperated air.
+
+"It don't make no difference where you got the money; you know
+that, for you set up to be some sort of a lawyer."
+
+Presently the sheriff went his way into the dusk of the evening,
+and night came swiftly to fellowship the judge's fears.  A single
+moonbeam found its way into the place, making a thin rift in the
+darkness.  The judge sat down on the three-legged stool, which,
+with a shake-down bed, furnished the jail.  His loneliness was a
+great wave of misery that engulfed him.
+
+"Well, just so my life ain't cut short!" he whispered.
+
+He had known a varied career, and what he was pleased to call his
+unparalleled misfortunes had reduced him to all kinds of
+desperate shifts to live, but never before had the law laid its
+hands on him.  True, there had been times and seasons when he had
+been grateful for the gloom of the dark ways he trod, for echoes
+had taken the place of the living voice that had once spoken to
+his soul; but he could still rest his hand upon his heart and say
+that the law had always nodded to him to pass on.
+
+Where was Solomon Mahaffy, and where Hannibal?  He felt that
+Mahaffy could fend for himself, but he experienced a moment of
+genuine concern when he thought of the child.  In spite of
+himself, his thoughts returned to him again and again.  But
+surely some one would shelter and care for him!
+
+"Yes--and work him like a horse, and probably abuse him into the
+bargain--"
+
+Then there was a scarcely audible rustle on the margin of the
+woods, a dry branch snapped loudly.  A little pause succeeded in
+which the judge's heart stood still.  Next a stealthy step
+sounded in the clearing.  The judge had an agonized vision of
+regulators and lynchers.  The beat of his pulse quickened.  He
+knew something of the boisterous horseplay of the frontier.  The
+sheriff had spoken of tar and feathers--very quietly he stood
+erect and picked up the stool.
+
+"Heaven helping me, I'll brain a citizen or two before it comes
+to that!" he told himself.
+
+The cautious steps continued to approach.  Some one paused below
+the closely shuttered window, and a hand struck the boards
+sharply.  A whisper stole into the jail.
+
+"Are you awake, Price?" It was Mahaffy who spoke.
+
+"God bless you, Solomon Mahaffy!" cried the judge unsteadily.
+
+"I've got the boy--he's with me," said Mahaffy.
+
+"God bless you both!" repeated the judge brokenly.  "Take care of
+him, Solomon.  I feel better now, knowing he's in good hands."
+
+"Please, Judge--" it was Hannibal
+
+"Yes, dear lad?"
+
+"I'm mighty sorry that ten dollars I loaned you was bad--but you
+don't need ever to pay it back!"
+
+Mahaffy gave way to mirth.
+
+"Never mind!" said the judge indulgently.  "It performed all the
+essential functions of a perfectly legal currency.  Just suppose
+we had discovered it was counterfeit before I took it to the
+tavern--that would have been a hardship!"
+
+"It were Captain Murrell gave it to me," explained Hannibal.
+
+"I consecrate myself to his destruction!  Judge Slocum Price can
+not be humiliated with impunity!"
+
+"I should think you would save your wind, Price, until you'd
+waddled out of danger!" Mahaffy spoke, gruffly.
+
+"How are you going to get me out of this, Solomon--for I suppose
+you are here to break jail for me," said the judge.
+
+Mahaffy inspected the building.  He found that the door was
+secured by two ponderous hasps to which were fitted heavy
+padlocks, but the solid wooden shutter which closed the square
+hole in the gable that served as a window was fastened by a hasp
+and peg.  He withdrew the peg, opened the shutter, and the
+judge's face, wreathed in smiles, appeared at the aperture.
+
+"The blessed sky and air!" he murmured, breathing deep.  "A week
+of this would have broken my spirit!"
+
+"If you can, Price, you'd better come feet first," suggested
+Mahaffy.
+
+"Not sufficiently acrobatic, Solomon--it's heads or I lose!" said
+the judge.
+
+He thrust his shoulders into the opening and wriggled outward.
+Suddenly his forward movement was arrested.
+
+"I was afraid of that!" he said, with a rather piteous smile.
+"It's my stomach, Solomon!"  Mahaffy seized him by the shoulders
+with lean muscular hands.  "Pull!" cried the judge hoarsely.
+But Mahaffy's vigorous efforts failed to move him.
+
+"I guess you're stuck, Price!"
+
+"Get your wind, Solomon," urged the judge, "and then, if Hannibal
+will reach up and work about my middle with his knuckles while
+you pull, I may get through."  But even this expedient failed.
+
+"Do you reckon you can get me back?  I should not care to spend
+the night so!" said the judge.  He was purple and panting.
+
+"Let's try you edgewise!"  And Mahaffy pushed the judge into the
+jail again.
+
+"No," said the judge, after another period of resolute effort on
+his part and on the part of Mahaffy.  "Providence has been kind
+to me in the past, but it's clear she didn't have me in mind when
+they cut this hole."
+
+"Well, Price, I guess all we can do is to go back to town and see
+if I can get into my cabin--I've got an old saw there.  If I can
+find it, I can come again to-morrow night and cut away one of the
+logs, or the cleats of the door."
+
+"In Heaven's name, do that to-night, Solomon!" implored the
+judge.  "Why procrastinate?"
+
+"Price, there's a pack of dogs in this neighborhood, and we must
+have a full night to move in, or they'll pull us down before
+we've gone ten miles!"
+
+The judge groaned.
+
+"You're right, Solomon; I'd forgotten the dogs," and he groaned
+again.
+
+Mahaffy closed and fastened the shutter, then he and Hannibal
+stole across the clearing and entered the woods.  The judge flung
+off his clothes and went to bed, determined to sleep away as many
+hours as possible.  He was only aroused by the arrival of his
+breakfast, which the sheriff brought about eight o'clock.
+
+"Well, if I was in your boots I couldn't sleep like you!"
+remarked that official admiringly.  "But I reckon, sir, this
+ain't the first time the penitentiary has stared you in the
+face."
+
+"Then you reckon wrong," said the judge sententiously, as he
+hauled on his trousers.
+
+"No?--you needn't hurry none.  I'll get them dishes when I fetch
+your dinner," he added, as he took his leave.
+
+A little later the blacksmith appeared and fitted three iron bars
+to the window.
+
+"I reckon that'll hold you, old feller!" he observed pleasantly.
+
+He was disposed to linger, since he was interested in the
+mechanical means employed in the making of counterfeit money and
+thirsted for knowledge at first hand.  Also, he had in his
+possession a one-dollar bill which had come to him in the way of
+trade and which local experts had declared to be a spurious
+production.  He passed it in between the bars and demanded the
+judge's opinion of it as though he were the first authority in
+the land.  But he went no wiser than he came.
+
+It was nearing the noon hour when the judge's solitude was again
+invaded.  He first heard the distant murmur of voices on the road
+and passed an uneasy and restless ten minutes, with his eye to a
+crack in the door.  He was soothed and reassured, however, when
+at last be caught sight of the sheriff.
+
+"Well, judge, I got company for you," cried the sheriff
+cheerfully, as he threw open the door.  "A hoss-thief!"
+
+He pushed into the building a man, hatless and coatless, with a
+pair of pale villainous eyes and a tobaccostained chin.  The
+judge viewed the new-comer with disfavor.  As for the
+horse-thief, he gave his companion in misery a coldly critical
+stare, seated himself on the stool, and with quite a fierce air
+devoted all his energy to mastication.  He neither altered his
+position nor changed his expression until he and the judge were
+alone, then, catching the judge's eye, he made what seemed a
+casual movement with his hand, the three fingers raised; but to
+the judge this clearly was without significance, and the
+horse-thief manifested no further interest where he was
+concerned.  He did not even condescend to answer the one or two
+civil remarks the judge addressed to him.
+
+As the long afternoon wore itself away, the judge lived through
+the many stages of doubt and uncertainty, for suppose anything
+had happened to Mahaffy!  When the sheriff came with his supper
+he asked him if he had seen or heard of his friend.
+
+"Judge, I reckon he's lopin' on yet.  I never seen a man of his
+years run as well as he done--it was inspirin' how he got over
+the ground!" answered the sheriff.  Then he attempted
+conversation with the horse-thief, but was savagely cursed for
+his pains.  "Well, I don't envy you your company none, sir," he
+remarked as he took leave of the judge.
+
+Standing before the window, the judge watched the last vestige of
+light fade from the sky and the stars appear.  Would Mahaffy
+come?  The suspense was intolerable.  It was possibly eight
+o'clock.  He could not reasonably expect Mahaffy until nine or
+half past; to come earlier would be too great a risk.  Suddenly
+out of the silence sounded a long-drawn whistle.  Three times it
+was repeated.  The horse-thief leaped to his feet.
+
+"Neighbor, that means me!" he cried.
+
+The moon was rising now, and by its light the judge saw a number
+of horsemen appear on the edge of the woods.  They entered the
+clearing, picking their way among the stumps without haste or
+confusion.  When quite close, five of the band dismounted; the
+rest continued on about the jail or cantered off toward the road.
+By this time the judge's teeth were chattering and he was
+dripping cold sweat at every pore.  He prayed earnestly that they
+might hang the horsethief and spare him.  The dismounted men took
+up a stick of timber that had been cut for the jail and not used.
+
+"Look out inside, there!" cried a voice, and the log was dashed
+against the door; once--twice--it rose and fell on the
+clapboards, and under those mighty thuds grew up a wide gap
+through which the moonlight streamed splendidly.  The horse-thief
+stepped between the dangling cleats and vanished.  The judge,
+armed with the stool, stood at bay.
+
+"What next?" a voice asked.
+
+"Get dry brush--these are green logs--we'll burn this jail!"
+
+"Hold on!" the judge recognized the horse-thief as the speaker.
+"There's an old party in there!  No need to singe him!"
+
+"Friend?"
+
+"No, I tried him."
+
+The judge tossed away the stool.  He understood now that these
+men were neither lynchers nor regulators.  With a confident, not
+to say jaunty step, he emerged from the jail.
+
+"Your servant, gentlemen!" he said, lifting his hat.
+
+"Git!" said one of the men briefly, and the judge moved nimbly
+away toward the woods.  He had gained its shelter when the jail
+began to glow redly.
+
+Now to find Solomon and the boy, and then to put the miles
+between himself and Pleasantville with all diligence.  As he
+thought this, almost at his elbow Mahaffy and Hannibal rose from
+behind a fallen log.  The Yankee motioned for silence and pointed
+west.
+
+"Yes," breathed the judge.  He noted that Mahaffy had a heavy
+pack, and the boy his long rifle.  For a mile or two they moved
+forward without speech, the boy in the lead; while at his heels
+strode Mahaffy, with the judge bringing up the rear.
+
+"How do you feel, Price?" asked Mahaffy at length, over his
+shoulder.
+
+"Like one come into a fortune!  Those horse-thieves gave me a
+fine scare, but did me a good turn."
+
+Hannibal kept to the woods by a kind of instinct, and the two men
+yielded themselves to his guidance; but there was no speech
+between them.  Mahaffy trod in the boy's steps, and the judge,
+puffing like an overworked engine, came close upon his heels.  In
+this way they continued to advance for an hour or more, then the
+boy paused.
+
+"Go on!" commanded Mahaffy.
+
+"Do you 'low the judge can stand it?" asked Hannibal .
+
+"Bless you, lad!" panted the judge feelingly.
+
+"He's got to stand it--either that, or what do you suppose will
+happen to us if they start their dogs?" said Mahaffy.
+
+"Solomon's right--you are sure we are not going in a circle,
+Hannibal?"
+
+"Yes, I'm sure," said Hannibal.  "Do you see that star?  My Uncle
+Bob learned me how I was to watch that star when I wanted to keep
+going straight."
+
+There was another long interval of silence.  Bit by bit the sky
+became overcast.  Vague, fleecy rifts of clouds appeared in the
+heavens.  A wind sprang up, murmuring about them, there came a
+distant roll of thunder, while along the horizon the lightning
+rushed in broken, jagged lines of fire.  In the east there was a
+pale flush that showed the black, hurrying clouds the winds had
+summoned out of space.
+
+The booming thunder, first only the sullen menace of the
+approaching storm, rolled nearer and nearer, and the fierce light
+came in blinding sheets of flame.  A ceaseless, pauseless murmur
+sprang up out of the distance, and the trees rocked with a mighty
+crashing of branches, while here and there a big drop of rain
+fell.  Then the murmur swelled into a roar as the low clouds
+disgorged themselves.  Drenched to the skin on the instant, the
+two men and the boy stumbled forward through the gray wake of the
+storm.
+
+"What's come of our trail now?" shouted the judge, but the sound
+of his voice was lost in the rush of the hurrying winds and the
+roar of the airy cascades that fell about them.
+
+An hour passed.  There was light under the trees, faint,
+impalpable without visible cause, but they caught the first
+sparkle of the rain drops on leaf and branch; they saw the
+silvery rivulets coursing down the mossy trunks of old trees;
+last of all through a narrow rift in the clouds, the sun showed
+them its golden rim, and day broke in the steaming woods.  With
+the sun, with a final rush of the hurrying wind, a final torrent,
+the storm spent itself, and there was only the drip from bough
+and leaf, or pearly opalescent points of moisture on the drenched
+black trunks of maple and oak; a sapphire sky, high arched,
+remote overhead; and the June day all about.
+
+"What's come of they trail now?" cried the judge again.  "He'll
+be a good dog that follows it through, these woods!"
+
+They had paused on a thickly wooded hillside.
+
+"We've come eight or ten miles if we have come a rod, Price,"
+said Mahaffy, "and I am in favor of lying by for the day.  When
+it comes dark we can go on again."
+
+The judge readily acquiesced in this, and they presently found a
+dense thicket which they cautiously entered.  Reaching the center
+of the tangled growth, they beat down the briers and bushes, or
+cut them away with their knives, until they had a little cleared
+space where they could build a fire.  Then from the pack which
+Mahaffy carried, the rudiments of a simple but filling meal were
+produced.
+
+"Your parents took no chances when they named you Solomon!" said
+the judge approvingly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BELLE PLAIN
+
+
+Now, Tom," said Betty, with a bustling little air of excitement
+as she rose from the breakfast table that first morning at Belle
+Plain, "I am ready if you are.  I want you to show me
+everything!"
+
+"I reckon you'll notice some changes," remarked Tom.
+
+He went from the room and down the hall a step or two in advance
+of her.  On the wide porch Betty paused, breathing deep.  The
+house stood on an eminence; directly before it at the bottom of
+the slight descent was a small bayou, beyond this the forest
+stretched away in one unbroken mass to the Mississippi.  Here and
+there, gleaming in the brilliant morning light, some great bend
+of the river was visible through the trees, while the Arkansas
+coast, blue and distant, piled up against the far horizon.
+
+"What is it you want to see, anyhow, Betty?" Tom demanded,
+turning on her.
+
+"Everything--the place, Tom--Belle Plain!  Oh, isn't it
+beautiful!  I had no idea how lovely it was!" cried Betty, as
+with her eyes still fixed on the distant panorama of woods and
+water she went down the steps, Tom at her heels--he bet she'd get
+sick of it all soon enough, that was one comfort!
+
+"Why, Tom!  Why does the lawn look like this?"
+
+"Like what?" inquired Tom.
+
+"Why, this--all weeds and briers, and the paths overgrown?" and
+as Betty surveyed the unkempt waste that had once been a lawn, a
+little frown fixed itself on her smooth brow.
+
+Mr. Ware rubbed his chin reflectively with the back of his hand.
+
+"That sort of thing looked all right, Bet," he said, "but it kept
+five or six of the best hands out of the fields right at the
+busiest time of the year."
+
+"Haven't I slaves enough?" she asked.
+
+The dull color crept into Ware's cheeks.  He hated her for that
+"I!"  So she was going to come that on him, was she?  And he'd
+worked himself like a horse to bring in more land.  Why, he'd
+doubled the acreage in cotton and corn in the last four years!
+He smothered his sense of hurt and indignation.
+
+"Don't you want to see the crops, Bet?  Let me order a team and
+show you about, you couldn't walk over the place in a week!" he
+urged.
+
+The girl shook her head and moved swiftly down the path that led
+from terrace to terrace to the margin of the bayou.  At the first
+terrace she paused.  All below was a wilderness of tangled vines
+and brush.  She faced Tom rather piteously.  What had been lost
+was more than he could possibly understand.  Her father had
+planned these grounds which he was allowing a riotous second
+growth to swallow up.
+
+"It's positively squalid!" cried Betty, with a little stamp of
+her foot.
+
+Ware glanced about with dull eyes.  The air of neglect and decay
+which was everywhere visible, and which was such a shock to
+Betty, had not been reached in a season, he was really convinced
+that the place looked pretty much as it had always looked.
+
+"I'll tell you, Betty, I'm busy this morning; you poke about and
+see what you want done and we'll do it," he said, and made a
+hasty retreat to his office, a little brick building at the other
+side of the house.
+
+Betty returned to the porch and seating herself on the top step
+with her elbows on her knees and her chin sunk in the palms of
+her hands, gazed about her miserably enough.  She was still
+seated there when half an hour later Charley Norton galloped up
+the drive from the highroad.  Catching sight of her on the porch
+he sprang from the saddle, and, throwing his reins to a black
+boy, hurried to her side.
+
+"Inspecting your domain, Betty?" he asked, as he took his place
+near her on the step.
+
+"Why didn't you tell me, Charley--or at least prepare me for
+this?" she asked, almost tearfully.
+
+"How was I to know, Betty?  I haven't been here since you went
+away, dear--what was there to bring me?  Old Tom would make a cow
+pasture out of the Garden of Eden, wouldn't he--a beautiful,
+practical, sordid soul he is!"
+
+"What am I going to do, Charley?"
+
+"Keep after him until you get what you want, it's the only way to
+manage Tom that I know of."
+
+"It's horrid to have to assert one's self!"
+
+"You'll have to with Tom--you must, Betty--he won't understand
+anything else."  Then he added: "Let's look around and see what's
+needed, a season or two of care will remedy the most of this
+neglect.  Just make Tom put a lot of hands in here with
+brush-hooks and axes and soon you'll not know the place!"
+
+Norton spent the day at Belle Plain; and though he was there on
+his good behavior as the result of an agreement they had reached
+on board The Naiad, he proposed twice.
+
+"My intentions are all right, Betty," he assured her in
+extenuation.  "But I've the worst memory imaginable.  Oh, yes,
+the lower terrace is badly gullied, but it's no great matter, it
+can be fixed with a little work."
+
+It was soon plain to Betty that Tom's ideals, if he possessed
+any, had not led him in the direction of what he termed display.
+His social impulse had suffered atrophy.  The house was utterly
+disorganized; there was a dearth of suitable servants.  Those she
+had known were gone--sold, she learned.  Tom explained that there
+had been no need for them since he had lived pretty much in his
+office, what had been the use in keeping darkies standing about
+doing nothing?  He had got rid of those show niggers and put
+their price in husky field hands, who could be made to do a day's
+work and not feel they were abused.
+
+But Tom was mistaken in his supposition that Betty would soon
+tire of Belle Plain.  She demanded men, and teams, and began on
+the lawns.  This interested and fascinated her.  She was out at
+sun-up to direct her laborers.  She had the advantage of Charley
+Norton's presence and advice for the greater part of each day in
+the week, and Sundays he came to look over what had been
+accomplished, and, as Tom firmly believed, to put that little
+fool up to fresh nonsense.  He could have booted him!
+
+As the grounds took shape before her delighted eyes, Betty found
+leisure to institute a thorough reformation indoors.  A number of
+house servants were rescued from the quarters and she began to
+instruct them in their new duties.
+
+Tom was sick at heart.  The little fool would cripple the place.
+It gave him acute nausea to see the gangs at work about the
+lawns; it made him sicker to pass through the house.  There were
+five or six women in the kitchen now--he was damned if he could
+see what they found to do--there was a butler and a page.  Betty
+had levied on the stables for one of the best teams to draw the
+family carriage, which had not been in use since her mother's
+death; there was a coachman for that, and another little monkey
+to ride on the rumble and hop down and open gates.  This came of
+sending girls away to school--they only learned foolishness.
+
+And those niggers about the house had to be dressed for their new
+work; the butler, a cracking plow-hand he was, wore better
+clothes than he--Tom--did.  No wonder he was sick;--and waste!
+Tom knew all about that when the bills began to come in from
+Memphis.  Why, that pink-faced chit, he always referred to her in
+his own mind now as a pink-faced chit, was evolving a scheme of
+life that would cost eight or ten thousand dollars a year to
+maintain, and she was talking of decorators for the house, either
+from New Orleans or Philadelphia, and new furniture from top to
+bottom.
+
+Tom felt that he was being robbed.  Then he realized with a sense
+of shock that here was a fortune of over half a million in lands
+and slaves which he had managed and manipulated all these years,
+but which was not his.  It was true that under the terms of his
+stepmother's will he would inherit it in the event of Betty's
+death--well, she looked like dying, a whole lot--she was as
+strong as a mule, those soft rounded curves covered plenty of
+vigorous muscle; Tom hated the very sight of her.  A pink-faced
+chit bubbling over with life and useless energy, a perfect curse
+she was, with all sorts of extravagant tastes and he was
+powerless to check her, for, although he was still her guardian,
+there were certain provisions of the will--he consulted the copy
+he kept locked up in his desk in the office--that permitted her
+to do pretty much as she pleased with her income.  It was a hell
+of a will!  She could spend fifteen or twenty thousand dollars a
+year if she wanted to and he couldn't prevent it.  It was an
+iniquitous document!
+
+Well, the place could go straight off to the devil, he wouldn't
+wear out his life economizing for her to waste--he didn't get a
+thank-you--and he knew that nobody took off the land bigger crops
+than he did, while bale for bale his cotton outsold all other
+cotton raised in the county--that was the kind of a manager he
+was.  He wagged his head in self-approval.  And what did he get
+out of it?  A lump sum each year with a further lump sum of
+twenty thousand dollars when she came of age--soon now--or
+married.  Tom's eyes bulged from their sockets--she'd be doing
+that next, to spite him!
+
+Betty's sphere of influence rapidly extended itself.  She soon
+began to have her doubts concerning the treatment accorded the
+slaves, and was not long in discovering that Hicks, the overseer,
+ran things with a heavy hand.  Matters reached a crisis one day
+when, happening to ride through the quarters, she found him
+disciplining a refractory black.  She turned sick at the sight.
+Here was a slave actually being whipped by another slave while
+Hicks stood looking on with his hands in his pockets, and with a
+brutal satisfied air.  When he caught sight of the girl, he sang
+out
+
+"That'll do; he's had enough, I reckon, to learn him!"  He added
+sullenly to Betty, "Sorry you seen this, Miss!"
+
+"How dare you order such a punishment without authority!" cried
+Betty furiously.
+
+Hicks gave her a black scowl.
+
+"I don't need no authority to whip a shirker," he said
+insolently, as he turned away.
+
+"Stop!" commanded Betty, her eyes blazing.  She strove to keep
+her voice steady.  "You shall not remain at Belle Plain another
+hour."
+
+Hicks said nothing.  He knew it would take more than her saying
+so to get him off the place.  Betty turned her horse and galloped
+back to the house.  She felt that she was in no condition to see
+Tom just at that moment, and dismounting at the door ran
+up-stairs to her room.
+
+Meantime the overseer sought out Ware in his office.  His manner
+of stating his grievance was singular.  He began by swearing at
+his employer.  He had been insulted before all the quarter--his
+rage fairly choked him, he could not speak.
+
+Tom seized the opportunity to swear back.  He wanted to know if
+he hadn't troubles enough without the overseer's help?  If he'd
+got himself insulted it was his own affair and he could lump it,
+generally speaking, and get out of that office!  But Tom's fury
+quickly spent itself.  He wanted to know what the matter was.
+
+"Sent you off the place, did she; well, you'll have to eat crow.
+I'll do all I can.  I don't know what girls were ever made for
+anyhow, damned if I do!" he added plaintively, as a realization
+of a stupendous mistake on the part of nature overwhelmed him.
+
+Hicks consented to eat crow only after Mr. Ware had cursed and
+cajoled him into a better and more forgiving frame of mind.  Then
+Tom hurried off to find Betty and put matters right; a more
+difficult task than he had reckoned on, for Betty was obdurate
+and her indignation flared up at mention of the incident; all his
+powers of argument and persuasion were called into requisition
+before she would consent to Hicks remaining, and then only on
+that most uncertain tenure, his good behavior.
+
+"Now you come up to the house," said Tom, when he had won his
+point and gone back to Hicks, "and get done with it.  I reckon
+you talked when you should have kept your blame familiar mouth
+shut!  Come on, and get it over with, and say you're sorry."
+
+Later, after Hicks had made his apology, the two men smoked a
+friendly pipe and discussed the situation.  Tom pointed out that
+opposition was useless, a losing game, you could get your way by
+less direct means.  She wouldn't stay long at Belle Plain, but
+while she did remain they must avoid any more crises of the sort
+through which they had just passed, and presently; she'd be sick
+of the place.  Tom wagged his head.  She was sick of it already
+only she hadn't the sense to know it.  It wasn't good enough.
+Nothing suited-the house--the grounds--nothing!
+
+In the midst of her activities Betty occasionally found time to
+think of Bruce Carrington.  She was sure she did not wish to see
+him again!  But when three weeks had passed she began to feel
+incensed that he had not appeared.  She thought of him with hot
+cheeks and a quickening beat of the heart.  It was anger.
+Naturally she was very indignant, as she had every right to be!
+He was the first man who had dared--!
+
+Then one day when she had decided for ever to banish all memory
+of him from her mind, and never, under any circumstances, to
+think of him again, he presented himself at Belle Plain.
+
+She was in her room just putting the finishing touches to an
+especially satisfying toilet when her maid tapped on the door and
+told her there was a gentleman in the parlor who wished to see
+her.
+
+"Is it Mr. Norton?" asked Betty.
+
+"No, Miss--he didn't give no name, Miss."
+
+When Betty entered the parlor a moment later she saw her caller
+standing with his back turned toward her as he gazed from one of
+the windows, but she instantly recognized those broad shoulders,
+and the fine poise of the shapely head that surmounted them.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Carrington--" and Betty stopped short, while her face
+grew rather pale and then crimsoned.  Then she advanced quite
+boldly and held out a frigid hand, which he took carefully.  "I
+didn't know--so you are alive--you disappeared so suddenly that
+night--"
+
+"Yes, I'm alive," he said, and then with a smile.  "But I fear
+before you get through with me we'll both wish I were not,
+Betty."
+
+"Don't call me Betty."
+
+"Who was that man who met you at New Madrid?  He can't have you,
+whoever he is!"  His eyes dwelt on her tenderly, and the
+remembered spell of her fresh youthful beauty deepened itself for
+him.
+
+"Perhaps he doesn't want me--"
+
+"Yes, he does.  That was plain as day."
+
+Betty surveyed him from under her lashes.  What could she do with
+this man?  Nothing affected him.  He seemed to have crossed some
+intangible barrier and to stand closer to her than any other man
+had ever stood.
+
+"Do you still hate me, Betty--Miss Malroy--is there anything I
+can say or do that will make you forgive me?"  He looked at her
+penitently.
+
+But Betty hardened her heart against him and prepared to keep him
+in place.  Remembering that he was still holding her hand, she
+recovered it.
+
+"Will you sit down?" she indicated a chair.  He seated himself
+and Betty put a safe distance between them.  "Are you staying in
+the neighborhood, Mr. Carrington ?" she asked, rather unkindly.
+How did he dare come here when she had forgotten him and her
+annoyance?  And now the sight of him brought back memories of
+that disagreeable night on that horrid boat--he had deceived her
+about that boat, too--she would never forgive him for that--she
+had trusted him and he had clearly shown that he was not to be
+trusted; and Betty closed her pretty mouth until it was a thin
+red line and looked away that she might not see his hateful face.
+
+"No, I'm not staying in the neighborhood.  When I left you, I
+made up my mind I'd wait at New Madrid until I could come on down
+here and say I was sorry."
+
+"And it's taken you all this time?"
+
+Carrington regarded her seriously.
+
+"I reckon I must have come for more time, Betty--Miss Malroy."
+In spite of herself, Betty glowed under the caressing humor of
+his tone.
+
+"Really--you must have chosen poorly then when you selected New
+Madrid.  It couldn't have been a good place for your purpose."
+
+"I think if I could have made up my mind to stay there long
+enough, it would have answered," said Carrington.  "But when a
+down-river boat tied up 'there yesterday it was more than I could
+stand.  You 'see there's danger in a town like New Madrid of
+getting too sorry.  I thought we'd better discuss this point--"
+
+"Mayn't I show you Belle Plain?" asked Betty quickly.
+
+But Carrington shook his head.
+
+"I don't care anything about that," he said.  "I didn't come here
+to see Belle Plain."
+
+"You certainly are candid," said Betty.
+
+"I intend to be honest with you always."
+
+"Dear me--but I don't know that I shall particularly like it.  Do
+you think it was quite fair to select the boat you did, or was
+your resolution to be always honest formed later?" demanded Betty
+severely.
+
+He looked at her with great sweetness of expression.
+
+"I didn't advise that boat for speed, only for safety.  Betty,
+doesn't it mean anything to you that I love you?  I admit that I
+wish it had been twice as slow!" he added reflectively, as an
+afterthought.  He looked at her steadily, and Betty's dark lashes
+drooped as the color mounted to her face.
+
+"I don't," she said quickly.  She rose from her chair, and
+Carrington followed her example with a lithe movement that
+bespoke muscles in good training.  She led the way through the
+wide hall and out to the porch.
+
+"Now I am going to show you all over the place," she announced
+resolutely.  She stood on the top step, looking off into the
+flaming west where the sun rode low in the heavens.  "Isn't it
+lovely, Mr. Carringtonisn't it beautiful?"
+
+"Very beautiful!" Carrington's glance was fixed on her face.
+
+"If you don't care to see Belle Plain," began Betty, rather
+indignantly.
+"No, I don't, Betty.  This is enough for me.  I'll come for that
+some other time if you'll be good enough to let me?"
+
+"Then you expect to remain in the neighborhood?"
+
+"I've given up the river, and I'm going to get hold of some land--"
+
+"Land?" said Betty, with a rising inflection.
+
+"Yes, land."
+
+"I thought you were a river-man?"
+
+"I'm a river-man no longer.  I am going to be a planter now.  But
+I'll tell you why, and all about it some other day."  Then he
+held out his hand.  "Goodby," he added.
+
+"Are you going--good-by,  Mr. Carrington," and Betty's fingers
+tingled with his masterful clasp long after he had gone.
+
+Carrington sauntered slowly down the path to the highroad.
+
+"She didn't ask me to come back--an oversight," he told himself
+cheerfully.
+
+Just beyond the gates he met that same young fellow he had seen
+at New Madrid.  Norton nodded good-naturedly as he passed, and
+Carrington, glancing back, saw that he turned in at Belle Plain.
+He shrugged his shoulders, and went on his way not rejoicing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT BOGGS'
+
+
+The judge's faith in the reasonableness of mankind having
+received a staggering blow, there began a somewhat furtive
+existence for himself, for Solomon Mahaffy, and for the boy.
+They kept to little frequented byways, and usually it was the
+early hours of morning, or the cool of late afternoons when they
+took the road.
+
+The heat of silent middays found them lounging beside shady
+pools, where the ripple of fretted waters filled the pauses in
+their talk.  It was then that the judge and Mahaffy exchanged
+views on literature and politics, on religion and politics, on
+the public debt and politics, on canals and national roads and
+more politics.  They could and did honestly differ at great
+length and with unflagging energy on these vital topics,
+especially politics, for they were as far apart mentally as they
+were close together morally.
+
+Mahaffy, morose and embittered, regarded the life they were
+living as an unmixed hardship.  The judge entered upon it with
+infinite zest.  He displayed astonishing adaptability, while he
+brought all the resources of a calm and modest knowledge to bear
+on the vexed problem of procuring sustenance for himself and for
+his two companions.
+
+"To an old campaigner like me, nothing could be more delightful
+than this holiday, coming as it does on the heels of grinding
+professional activity," he observed to Mahaffy.  "This is the way
+our first parents lived--close to nature, in touch with her
+gracious beneficence!  Sir, this experience is singularly
+refreshing after twenty years of slaving at the desk.  If any man
+can grasp the possibilities of a likely looking truck-patch at a
+glance, I am that man, and as for getting around in the dark and
+keeping the lay of the land--well, I suppose it's my military
+training.  Jackson always placed the highest value on such data
+as I furnished him.  He leaned on me more than any other man,
+Solomon--"
+
+"I've heard he stood up pretty straight," said Mahaffy affably.
+The judge's abandoned conduct distressed him not a little, but
+his remonstrances had been in vain.
+
+"I consider that when society subjected me to the indignity of
+arrest, I was relieved of all responsibility.  Injustice must
+bear its own fruit," the judge had answered him sternly.
+
+His beginnings had been modest enough: a few ears of corn, a few
+hills of potatoes, and the like, had satisfied him; then one
+night he appeared in camp with two streaks of scarlet down the
+side of his face.
+
+"Are you hurt, Price?" demanded Mahaffy, betraying an anxiety of
+which he was instantly ashamed.
+
+"Let me relieve your apprehension, Solomon; it's only a trickle
+of stewed fruit.  I folded a couple of pies and put them in the
+crown of my hat," explained the judge.
+
+"You mean you've been in somebody's springhouse ?"
+
+"It was unlocked, Solomon, This will be a warning to the owner.
+I consider I have done him a kindness."
+
+Thus launched on a career of plunder, the judge very speedily
+accumulated a water bucket--useful when one wished to milk a cow
+--an ax from a woodpile, a kettle from a summer kitchen, a tin of
+soft soap, and an excellent blanket from a wash-line.
+
+"For the boy, Solomon," he said gently, when he caught Mahaffy's
+steady disapproving glance fixed upon him as he displayed this
+last trophy.
+
+"What sort of an example are you setting him?"
+
+"The world is full of examples I'd not recommend, Solomon.  One
+must learn to discriminate.  A body can no more follow all the
+examples than he can follow all the roads, and I submit that the
+ends of morality can as well be served in showing a child what he
+should not do as in showing him what he should.  Indeed, I don't
+know but it's the finer educational idea!"
+
+Thereafter the judge went through the land with an eye out for
+wash-lines.
+
+"I'm looking for a change of linen for the boy, Solomon," he
+said.  "Let me bring you a garment or two.  Eh--how few men
+you'll find of my build; those last shirts I got were tight
+around the armholes and had no more tail than a rabbit!"
+
+Two nights later Mr. Mahaffy accepted a complete change of under
+linen, but without visible sign of gratitude.
+
+A night later the judge disappeared from camp, and after a
+prolonged absence returned puffing and panting with three
+watermelons, which proved to be green, since his activity had
+been much in advance of the season.
+
+"I don't suppose there is any greater tax on human ingenuity than
+to carry three watermelons!" he remarked.  "The human structure
+is ideally adapted to the transportation of two--it can be done
+with comfort; but when a body tackles three he finds that nature
+herself is opposed to the proceeding!  Well, I am going back for
+a bee-gum I saw in a fence corner.  Hannibal will enjoy that--a
+child is always wanting sweets!"
+
+In this fashion they fared gaily across the state, but as they
+neared the Mississippi the judge began to consider the future.
+His bright and illuminating intelligence dealt with this problem
+in all its many-sidedness.
+
+"I wish you'd enter one of the learned professions, Solomon--have
+you ever thought of medicine?" he inquired.  Mr. Mahaffy laughed.
+"But why not, Solomon?  There is nothing like a degree or a
+title--that always stamps a man, gives him standing--"
+
+"What do I know about the human system?"
+
+"I should certainly hope you know as much as the average doctor
+knows.  We could locate in one of these new towns where they have
+the river on one side and the canal on the other, and where
+everybody has the ague--"
+
+"What do I know about medicine?" inquired Mahaffy.
+
+"As much as Aesculapius, no doubt--even he had to make a
+beginning.  The torch of science wasn't lit in a day--you must be
+willing to wait; but you've got a good sick-room manner.  Have
+you ever thought of opening an undertaker's shop?  If you
+couldn't cure them you might bury them."
+
+A certain hot afternoon brought them into the shaded main street
+of a straggling village.  Near the door of the principal
+building, a frame tavern, a man was seated, with his feet on the
+horse-rack.  There was no other sign of human occupancy.
+
+"How do you do, sir?" said the judge, halting before this
+solitary individual whom he conjectured to be the 'landlord.  The
+man nodded, thrusting his thumbs into the armholes of his vest.
+"What's the name of this bustling metropolis?" continued the
+judge, cocking his head on one side.
+
+As he spoke, Bruce Carrington appeared in the tavern door;
+pausing there, he glanced curiously at the shabby wayfarers.
+
+"This is Raleigh, in Shelby County, Tennessee, one of the states
+of the Union of which, no doubt, you've heard rumor in your
+wanderings," said the landlord.
+
+"Are you the voice from the tomb?" inquired the judge, in a tone
+of playful sarcasm.
+
+Carrington, amused, sauntered toward him.
+
+"That's one for you, Mr. Pegloe!" he said.
+
+"I am charmed to meet a gentleman whose spirit of appreciation
+shows his familiarity with a literary allusion," said the judge,
+bowing.
+
+"We ain't so dead as we look," said Pegloe.  "Just you keep on to
+Boggs' race-track, straight down the road, and you'll find that
+out--everybody's there to the hoss-racing and shooting-match.  I
+reckon you've missed the hoss-racing, but you'll be in time for
+the shooting.  Why ain't you there, Mr. Carrington?"
+
+"I'm going now, Mr. Pegloe," answered Carrington, as he followed
+the judge, who, with Mahaffy and the boy, had moved off.
+
+"Better stop at Boggs'!" Pegloe called after them.
+
+But the judge had already formed his decision.
+
+Horse-racing and shooting-matches were suggestive of that
+progressive spirit, the absence of which he had so much lamented
+at the jail raising at Pleasantville--Memphis was their objective
+point, but Boggs' became a side issue of importance.  They had
+gained the edge of the village when Carrington overtook them.  He
+stepped to Hannibal's side.
+
+"Here, let me carry that long rifle, son!" he said.  Hannibal
+looked up into his face, and yielded the piece without a word.
+Carrington balanced it on his big, muscular palm.  "I reckon it
+can shoot--these old guns are hard to beat!" he observed.
+
+"She's the clostest shooting rifle I ever sighted," said Hannibal
+promptly.  "You had ought to see the judge shoot her--my!  he
+never misses!"
+
+Carrington laughed.
+
+"The clostest shooting rifle you ever sighted--eh?" he repeated.
+"Why, aren't you afraid of it?"
+
+"No," said Hannibal scornfully.  "But she kicks you some if you
+don't hold her right."
+
+There was a rusty name-plate on the stock of the old sporting
+rifle; this had caught Carrington's eye.
+
+"What's the name here?  Oh, Turberville."
+
+The judge, a step or two in advance, wheeled in his tracks with a
+startling suddenness.
+
+"What?" he faltered, and his face was ashen.
+
+"Nothing, I was reading the name here; it is yours; sir, I
+suppose?" said Carrington.
+
+The color crept slowly back into the judge's cheeks, but a
+tremulous hand stole up to his throat.
+
+"No, sir--no; my name is Price--Slocum Price!  Turberville
+--Turberville--" he muttered thickly, staring stupidly at
+Carrington.
+
+"It's not a common name; you seem to have heard it before?" said
+the latter.
+
+A spasm of pain passed over the judge's face.
+
+"I--I've heard it.  The name is on the rifle, you say?"
+
+"Here on the stock, yes."
+
+The judge took the gun and examined it in silence.
+
+"Where did you get this rifle, Hannibal?" he at length asked
+brokenly.
+
+"I fetched it away from the Barony, sir; Mr. Crenshaw said I
+might have it."
+
+The judge gave a great start, and a hoarse inarticulate murmur
+stole from between his twitching lips.
+
+"The Barony--the Barony--what Barony?  The Quintard seat in North
+Carolina, is that what you mean?"
+
+"Yes," said the boy.
+
+The judge, as though stunned, stared at Hannibal and stared at
+the rifle, where the rusted name-plate danced before his eyes.
+
+"What do you know of the Barony, Hannibal?" the words came slowly
+from the judge's lips, and his face had gone gray again.
+
+"I lived at the Barony once, until Uncle Bob took me to Scratch
+Hill to be with him.  It were Mr. Crenshaw said I was to have the
+old sp'otin' rifle," said Hannibal.
+
+"You--you lived at the Barony?" repeated the judge, and a dull
+stupid wonder struck through his tone, he passed a shaking hand
+before his eyes.  "How long ago--when?" he continued.
+
+"I don't know how long it were, but until Uncle Bob carried me
+away after the old general died."
+
+The judge slipped a hand under the child's chin and tilted his
+face back so that he might look into it.  For a long moment he
+studied closely those small features, then with a shake of the
+head he handed the rifle to Carrington, and without a word strode
+forward.  Carrington had been regarding Hannibal with a quickened
+interest.
+
+"Hello!" he said, as the judge moved off.  "You're the boy I saw
+at Scratch Hill!"
+
+Hannibal gave him a frightened glance, and edged to Mr. Mahaffy's
+side, but did not answer him.
+
+"What's become of Bob Yancy?" Carrington went on.  He looked from
+Mahaffy to the judge; externally neither of these gentlemen was
+calculated to inspire confidence.  Mahaffy, keenly alive to this
+fact, returned Carrington's glance with a fixed and hostile
+stare.  "Come--" said Carrington good-naturedly, "you surely
+remember me?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I reckon I do--"
+
+"Can't you tell me about Mr. Yancy?"
+
+"No, sir; I don't know exactly where he is--"
+
+"But how did you get here?" persisted Carrington.
+
+Suddenly Mahaffy turned on him.
+
+"Don't you see he's with us?" he said truculently.
+
+"Well, my dear sir, I certainly intended no offense!" rejoined
+Carrington rather hotly.
+
+Mahaffy was plainly disturbed, the debased currency of his
+affection was in circulation where Hannibal was concerned, and he
+eyed the river-man askance.  He was prepared to give him the lie
+should he set up any claim to the boy.
+
+The judge plodded forward, his shoulders drooped, and his head
+bowed.  For once silence had fixed its seal upon his lips, no
+inspiring speech fell from them.  He had been suddenly swept back
+into a past he had striven these twenty years and more to forget,
+and his memories shaped themselves fantastically.  Surely if ever
+a man had quitted the world that knew him, he was that man!  He
+had died and yet he lived--lived horribly, without soul or heart,
+the empty shell of a man.
+
+A turn in the road brought them within sight of Boggs' racetrack,
+a wide level meadow.  The judge paused irresolutely, and turned
+his bleared face on his friend.
+
+"We'll stop here, Solomon," he said rather wearily, for the
+spirit of boast and jest was quite gone out of him.  He glanced
+toward Carrington.  "Are you a resident of these parts, sir?" he
+asked.
+
+"I've been in Raleigh three days altogether," answered
+Carrington, falling into step at his side, and they continued on
+across the meadow in silence.
+
+"Do you observe the decorations of those refreshment booths?--the
+tasteful disposition of our national colors, sir?" the judge
+presently inquired.
+
+Carrington smiled; he was able to follow his companion's train of
+thought.
+
+They were elbowing the crowd now.  Here were men from the small
+clearings in homespun and butternut or fringed hunting-shirts,
+with their women folk trailing after them.  Here, too, in lesser
+numbers, were the lords of the soil, the men who counted their
+acres by the thousand and their slaves by the score.  There was
+the flutter of skirts among the moving groups, the nodding of gay
+parasols that shaded fresh young faces, while occasionally a
+comfortable family carriage with some planter's wife or daughter
+rolled silently over the turf; for Boggs' race-track was a famous
+meeting-place where families that saw one another not above once
+or twice a year, friends who lived a day's hard drive apart even
+when summer roads were at their best, came as to a common center.
+
+The judge's dull eye kindled, the haggard lines that had streaked
+his face erased themselves.  This was life, opulent and full.
+These swift rolling carriages with their handsome women, these
+well-dressed men on foot, and splendidly mounted, all did their
+part toward lifting him out of his gloom.  He settled his hat on
+his head with a rakish slant and his walk became a strut, he
+courted observation; he would have been grateful for a word, even
+a jest at his expense.
+
+A cry from Hannibal drew his attention.  Turning, he was in time
+to see the boy bound away.  An instant later, to his
+astonishment, he saw a young girl who was seated with two men in
+an open carriage, spring to the ground, and dropping to her knees
+put her arms about the tattered little figure.
+
+"Why, Hannibal!" cried Betty Malroy.
+
+"Miss Betty!  Miss Betty!" and Hannibal buried his head on her
+shoulder.
+
+"What is it, Hannibal; what is it, dear?"
+
+"Nothing, only I'm so glad to find you!"
+
+"I am glad to see you, too!" said Betty, as she wiped his tears
+away.  "When did you get here, dear?"
+
+"We got here just to-day, Miss Betty," said Hannibal.
+
+Mr. Ware, careless as to dress, with a wiry black beard of a
+week's growth decorating his chin and giving an unkempt
+appearance which his expression did not mitigate, it being of the
+sour and fretful sort; scowled down on the child.  He had favored
+Boggs' with his presence, not because he felt the least interest
+in horse-racing, but because he had no faith in girls, and
+especially had he profound mistrust of Betty.  She was so much
+easily portable wealth, a pink-faced chit ready to fall into the
+arms of the first man who proposed to her.  But Charley Norton
+had not seemed disturbed by the planter's forbidding air.
+Between those two there existed complete reciprocity of feeling,
+inasmuch as Tom's presence was as distasteful to Norton as his
+own presence was distressing to Ware.
+
+"Where is your Uncle Bob, Hannibal?" Betty asked, glancing about,
+and at her question a shadow crossed the child's face and the
+tears gathered again in his eyes.
+
+"Ain't you seen him, Miss Betty?" he whispered.  He had been
+sustained by the belief that when he found her he should find his
+Uncle Bob, too.
+
+"Why, what do you mean, Hannibal--isn't your Uncle Bob with you?"
+demanded Betty.
+
+"He got hurt in a fight, and I got separated from him way back
+yonder just after we came out of the mountains."  He looked up
+piteously into Betty's face.  "But you think he'll find me, don't
+you?"
+
+"Why, you poor little thing!" cried Betty compassionately, and
+again she sank on her knees at Hannibal's side, and slipped her
+arms about him.  The child began to cry softly.
+
+"What ragamuffin's this, Betty?" growled Ware disgustedly.
+
+But Betty did not seem to hear.
+
+"Did you come alone, Hannibal?" she asked.
+
+"No, ma'am; the judge and Mr. Mahaffy, they fetched me."
+
+The judge had drawn nearer as Betty and Hannibal spoke together,
+but Mahaffy hung back.  There were gulfs not to be crossed by
+him.  It was different with the judge; the native magnificence of
+his mind fitted him for any occasion.  He pulled up his stock,
+and coaxed a half-inch of limp linen down about his wrists, then
+very splendidly he lifted his napless hat from his shiny bald
+head and pressing it against his fat chest with much fervor,
+elegantly inclined himself from the hips.
+
+"Allow me the honor to present myself, ma'am--Price is my name
+--Judge Slocum Price.  May I be permitted to assume that this is
+the Miss Betty of whom my young protege so often speaks?" The
+judge beamed benevolently, and rested a ponderous hand on the
+boy's head.
+
+Tom Ware gave him a glance of undisguised astonishment, while
+Norton regarded him with an expression of stunned and resolute
+gravity.  Mahaffy seemed to be undergoing a terrible moment of
+uncertainty.  He was divided between two purposes: one was to
+seize Price by the coat tails and drag him back into the crowd;
+the other was to kick him, and himself fly that spot.  This
+singular impulse sprang from the fact that he firmly believed his
+friend's appearance was sufficient to blast the boy's chances in
+every quarter; nor did he think any better of himself.
+
+Betty looked at the judge rather inquiringly.
+
+"I am glad he has found friends," she said slowly.  She wanted to
+believe that judge Slocum Price was somehow better than he
+looked, which should have been easy, since it was incredible that
+he could have been worse.
+
+"He has indeed found friends," said the judge with mellow
+unction, and swelling visibly.  These prosperous appearing people
+should be of use to him, God willing--he made a sweeping gesture.
+"I have assumed the responsibility of his future--he is my care."
+
+Now Betty caught sight of Carrington and bowed.  Occupied with
+Hannibal and the judge, she had been unaware of his presence.
+Carrington stepped forward.
+
+"Have you met Mr. Norton, and my brother, Mr. Carrington?" she
+asked.
+
+The two young men shook hands, and Ware improved the opportunity
+to inspect the new-comer.  But as his glance wandered over him,
+it took in more than Carrington, for it included the fine figure
+and swarthy face of Captain Murrell, who, with his eyes fixed on
+Betty, was thrusting his eager way through the crowd.
+
+Murrell had presented himself at Belle Plain the day before.  For
+upward of a year, Ware had enjoyed great peace of mind as a
+direct result of his absence from west Tennessee, and when he
+thought of him at all he had invariably put a period to his
+meditations with, "I hope to hell he catches it wherever he is!"
+It had really seemed a pernicious thing to him that no one had
+shown sufficient public spirit to knock the captain on the head,
+and that this had not been done, utterly destroyed his faith in
+the good intentions of Providence.
+
+More than this, Betty had spoken of the captain in no uncertain
+terms.  He was not to repeat that visit.  Tom must make that
+point clear to him.  Tom might entertain him if he liked at his
+office, but the doors of Belle Plain were closed against Captain
+Murrell; he was not to set his foot inside of them.
+
+As Murrell approached, the hot color surged into Betty's face.
+As for Hannibal, he had gone white to the lips, and his small
+hand clutched hers desperately; he was remembering all the terror
+of that hot dawn at Slosson's.
+
+Murrell, with all his hardihood, realized that a too great
+confidence had placed him in an awkward position, for Betty
+turned her back on him and began an animated conversation with
+Carrington and Charley Norton; only Hannibal and the judge
+continued to regard him; the boy with a frightened, fascinated
+stare, the judge with a wide sweet smile.
+
+Hicks, the Belle Plain overseer, pushed his way to Murrell's
+side.
+
+"Here, John Murrell, ain't you going to show us a trick or two?"
+he inquired.
+
+Murrell turned quickly with a sense of relief.
+
+"If you can spare me your rifle," he said, but his face wore a
+bleak look.  Glancing at Betty, he took up his station with the
+other contestants, whereupon two or three young planters silently
+withdrew from the firing-line.
+
+"Don't you think you've seen about enough, Bet?" demanded Tom.
+"You don't care for the shooting, do you ?"
+
+"That's the very thing I do care for; I think I'd rather see that
+than the horse-racing," said Betty perversely.  This had been her
+first appearance in public since her home-coming, and she felt
+that it had been most satisfactory.  She had met everybody she
+had ever known, and scores of new people; her progress had been
+quite triumphal in spite of Tom, and in spite of Charley Norton,
+who was plainly not anxious to share her with any one, his
+devotion being rather of the monopolizing sort.
+
+Betty now seated herself in the carriage, with Hannibal beside
+her, quietly determined to miss nothing.  The judge, feeling that
+he had come into his own, leaned elegantly against the wheel, and
+explained the merits of each shot as it was made.
+
+"Our intruding friend, the Captain, ma'am, is certainly a master
+with his weapon," he observed.
+
+Betty was already aware of this.  She turned to Norton.
+
+"Charley, I can't bear to have him win!"
+
+"I am afraid he will, for anything I can do, Betty," said Norton.
+
+"Mr. Carrington, can't you shoot?--do take Hannibal's rifle and
+beat him," she coaxed.
+
+"Don't be too sure that I can!" said Carrington, laughing.
+
+"But I know you can!" urged Betty.
+
+"I hope you gentlemen are not going to let me walk off with the
+prize?" said Murrell, approaching the group about the carriage.
+
+"Mr. Norton, I am told you are clever with the rifle."
+
+"I am not shooting to-day," responded Norton haughtily.
+
+Murrell stalked back to the line.
+
+"At forty paces I'd risk it myself, ma'am," said the judge.  "But
+at a hundred, offhand like this, I should most certainly fail
+--I've burnt too much midnight oil.  Eh--what--damn the dog,
+he's scored another center shot!"
+
+"It would be hard to beat that--" they heard Murrell say.
+
+"At least it would be quite possible to equal it," said
+Carrington, advancing with Hannibal's rifle in his hands.
+It was tossed to his shoulder, and poured out its contents in a
+bright stream of flame.  There was a moment of silence.
+
+"Center shot, ma'am!" cried the judge.
+
+"I'll add twenty dollars to the purse!" Norton addressed himself
+to Carrington.  "And I shall hope, sir, to see it go in to your
+pocket."
+
+"Our sentiments exactly, ma'am, are they not?" said the judge.
+
+"Perhaps you'd like to bet a little of your money?" remarked
+Murrell.
+
+"I'm ready to do that too, sir," responded Norton quietly.
+
+"Five hundred dollars, then, that this gentleman in whose success
+you take so great an interest, can neither equal nor better my
+next shot!" Murrell had produced a roll of bills as he spoke.
+Norton colored with embarrassment.  Carrington took in the
+situation.
+
+"Wait a minute--" he said, and passed his purse to Norton.
+
+"Cover his money, sir," he added briefly.
+
+"Thank you, my horses have run away with most of my cash,"
+explained Norton.
+
+"Your shot!" said Carrington shortly, to the outlaw.
+
+Murrell taking careful aim, fired, clipping the center.
+
+As soon as the result was known, Carrington raised his rifle; his
+bullet, truer than his opponent's, drove out the center.  Murrell
+turned on him with an oath.
+
+"You shoot well, but a board stuck against a tree is no test for
+a man's nerve," he said insolently.
+
+Carrington was charging his piece.
+
+"I only know of one other kind of target," he observed coolly.
+
+"Yes--a living target!" cried Murrell.
+
+The crowd opened from right to left.  Betty's face grew white,
+and uttering a smothered cry she started to descend from the
+carriage, but the judge rested his hand on her arm.
+
+"No, my dear young, lady, our friend is quite able to care for
+himself."
+
+Carrington shook the priming into the pan of Hannibal's ancient
+weapon.
+
+"I am ready for that, too," he said.  There was a slow smile on
+his lips, but his eyes, black and burning, looked the captain
+through and through.
+
+"Another time--" said Murrell, scowling.
+
+"Any time," answered Carrington indifferently.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE PORTAL OF HOPE
+
+
+"This--" the speaker was judge Price; "this is the place for me:
+They are a warm-hearted people, sir; a prosperous people, and a
+patriotic people with an unstinted love of country.  A people
+full of rugged virtues engaged in carving a great state out of
+the indulgent bosom of Nature.  I like the size of their whisky
+glasses; I like the stuff that goes into them; I despise a
+section that separates its gallons into too many glasses.  Show
+me a community that does that, and I'll show you a community
+rapidly tending toward a low scale of living.  I'd like to hang
+out my shingle here and practise law."
+
+The judge and Mr. Mahaffy were camped in the woods between Boggs'
+and Raleigh.  Betty had carried Hannibal off to spend the night
+at Belle Plain, Carrington had disappeared with Charley Norton;
+but the judge and Mahaffy had lingered in the meadow until the
+last refreshment booth struck its colors to the twilight, and
+they had not lingered in vain.  The judge threw himself at full
+length on the ground, and Mahaffy dropped at his side.  About
+them, in the ruddy glow of their camp-fire, rose the dark wall of
+the forest.
+
+"I crave opportunity, Solomon--the indorsement of my own class.
+I feel that I shall have it here," resumed the judge pensively.
+
+But Mahaffy was sad in his joy, sober in his incipientent
+drunkenness.  The same handsome treatment which the judge
+commended, had been as freely tendered him, yet he saw the end of
+all such hospitality.  This was the worm in the bud.  The judge,
+however, was an eager idealist; he still dreamed of Utopia, he
+still believed in millenniums.  Mahaffy didn't and couldn't.
+Memory was the scarecrow in the garden of his hopes--you could
+wear out your welcome anywhere.  In the end the world reckoned
+your cost, and unless you were prepared to make some sort of
+return for its bounty, the cold shoulder came to be your portion
+instead of the warm handclasp.
+
+"Hannibal has found friends among people of the first importance.
+I have made it my business to inquire into their standing, and I
+find that young lady is heiress to a cool half million.  Think of
+that, Solomon--think of that!  I never saw anything more
+beautiful than her manifestation of regard for my protege--"
+
+"And you made it your business, Mr. Price, to do your very
+damnedest to ruin his chances," said Mahaffy, with sudden heat.
+
+"I ruin his chances?--I, sir?  I consider that I helped his
+chances immeasurably."
+
+"All right, then, you helped his chances--only you didn't,
+Price!"
+
+"Am I to understand, Solomon, that you regard my interest in the
+boy as harmful?" inquired the judge, in a tone of shocked
+surprise.
+
+"I regard it as a calamity," said Mahaffy, with cruel candor.
+
+"And how about you, Solomon?"
+
+"Equally a calamity.  Mr. Price, you don't seem able to grasp
+just what we look like!"
+
+"The mind's the only measure of the man, Solomon.  If anybody can
+talk to me and be unaware that they are conversing with a
+gentleman, all I can say is their experience has been as pitiable
+as their intelligence is meager.  But it hurts me when you
+intimate that I stand in the way of the boy's opportunity."
+
+"Price, what do you; suppose we look like--you and I"
+
+"In a general way, Solomon, I am conscious that our appeal is to
+the brain rather than the eye," answered the judge, with dignity.
+
+"I reckon even you couldn't do a much lower trick than use the
+boy as a stepping-stone," pursued Mahaffy.
+
+"I don't see how you have the heart to charge me with such a
+purpose--I don't indeed, Solomon."  The judge spoke with deep
+feeling; he was really hurt.
+
+"Well, you let the boy have his chance, and don't you stick in
+your broken oar," cried Mahaffy fiercely.
+
+The judge rolled over on his back, and stared up at the heavens.
+
+"This is a new aspect of your versatile nature, Solomon.  Must I
+regard you as a personally emancipated moral influence, not
+committed to the straight and narrow path yourself, but still
+close enough to it to keep my feet from straying?" he at length
+demanded.
+
+Mahaffy having spoken his mind, preserved a stony silence.
+
+The judge got up and replenished the camp-fire, which had burnt
+low, then squatting before it, he peered into the flames.
+
+"You'll not deny, Solomon, that Miss Malroy exhibited a real
+affection for Hannibal?" he began.
+
+"Now don't you try to borrow money of her, Price," said Mahaffy,
+returning to the attack.
+
+"Solomon--Solomon--how can you?"
+
+"That'll be your next move.  Now let her alone; let Hannibal have
+his luck as it comes to him."
+
+"You seem to forget, sir, that I still bear the name of
+gentleman!" said the judge.
+
+Mahaffy gave way to acid merriment.
+
+"Well, see that you are not tempted to forget that," he observed.
+
+"If I didn't know your sterling qualities, Solomon, and pay
+homage to 'em, I might be tempted to take offense," said the
+judge.
+
+"It's like pouring water on a duck's back to talk to you, Price;
+nothing strikes in."
+
+"On the contrary, I am at all times ready to listen to reason
+from any quarter, but I've studied this matter in its many-sided
+aspect.  I won't say we might not do better in Memphis, but we
+must consider the boy.  No; if I can find a vacant house in
+Raleigh, I wouldn't ask a finer spot in which to spend the
+afternoon of my life."
+
+"Afternoon?" snapped Mahaffy irritably.
+
+"That's right--carp--!  But you can't relegate me!  You can't
+shove me away from the portal of hope--metaphorically speaking,
+I'm on the stoop; it may be God's pleasure that I enter; there's
+a place for gray heads--and there's a respectable slice of life
+after the meridian is passed."
+
+"Humph!" said Mahaffy.
+
+"I've made my impression; I've been thrown with cultivated minds
+quick to recognize superiority; I've met with deference and
+consideration."
+
+"Aren't you forgetting the boy?" inquired Mahaffy.  "No, sir!  I
+regard my obligations where he is concerned as a sacred trust to
+be administered in a lofty and impersonal manner.  If his
+friends--if Miss Malroy, for instance--cares to make me the
+instrument of her benefactions, I'll not be disposed to stand on
+my dignity; but his education shall be my care.  I'll make such a
+lawyer of him as America has not seen before!  I don't ask you to
+accept my own opinion of my fitness to do this, but two gentlemen
+with whom I talked this evening--one of them was the justice of
+the peace--were pleased to say that they had never heard such
+illuminating comments on the criminal law.  I quoted the Greeks
+and Romans to 'em, sir; I gave 'em the salient points on
+mediaeval law; and they were dumfounded and speechless.  I reckon
+they'd never heard such an exposition of fundamental principles;
+I showed 'em the germ and I showed 'em fruition.  Damn it, sir,
+they were overwhelmed by the array of facts I marshaled for 'em.
+They said they'd never met with such erudition--no more they had,
+for I boiled down thirty years of study into ten minutes of talk!
+I flogged 'em with facts, and then we drank--"  The judge smacked
+his lips.  "It is this free-handed hospitality I like; it's this
+that gives life its gala aspect."
+
+He forgot former experiences; but without this kindly refusal of
+memory to perform its wonted functions, the world would have been
+a chill place indeed for Slocum Price.  But Mahaffy, keen and
+anxious, with doubt in every glass he drained, a lurking devil to
+grin at him above the rim, could see only the end of their brief
+hour of welcome.  This made the present moment as bitter as the
+last.
+
+"I have a theory, Solomon, that I shall be handsomely supported
+by my new friends.  They'll snatch at the opportunity."
+
+"I see 'em snatching, Mr. Price," said Mahaffy grimly.
+
+"That's right--go on and plant doubt in my heart if you can!
+You're as hopeless as the grave side!" cried the judge, a spasm
+of rage shaking him.
+
+"The thing for us to do--you and I, Price--is to clear out of
+here," said Mahaffy,
+
+"But what of the boy?"
+
+"Leave him with his friends."
+
+"How do you know Miss Malroy would be willing to assume his care?
+It's scandalous the way you leap at conclusions.  No, Solomon,
+no--I won't shirk a single irksome responsibility," and the
+judge's voice shook with suppressed emotion.  Mahaffy laughed.
+"There you go again, Solomon, with that indecent mirth of yours!
+Friendship aside, you grow more offensive every day."  The judge
+paused and then resumed.  "I understand there's a federal
+judgeship vacant here.  The president--" Mr. Mahafly gave him a
+furtive leer.  "I tell you General Jackson was my friend--we were
+brothers, sir--I stood at his side on the glorious blood-wet
+field of New Orleans!  You don't believe me "
+
+"Price, you've made more demands on my stock of credulity than
+any man I've ever known!"
+
+The judge became somber-faced.
+
+"Unparalleled misfortune overtook me--I stepped aside, but the
+world never waits; I was a cog discarded from the mechanism of
+society--"  He was so pleased with the metaphor that he repeated
+it.
+
+"Look here, Price, you talk as though you were a modern job;
+what's the matter anyhow?--have you got boils?"
+
+The judge froze into stony silence.  Well, Mahaffy could sneer
+--he would show him!  This was the last ditch and he proposed to
+descend into it, it was something to be able to demand the final
+word of fate--but he instantly recalled that he had been playing
+at hide-and-seek with inevitable consequences for something like
+a quarter of a century; it had been a triumph merely to exist.
+Mahaffy having eased his conscience, rolled over and promptly
+went to sleep.  Flat on his back, the judge stared up at the wide
+blue arch of the heavens and rehearsed those promises which in
+the last twenty years he had made and broken times without
+number.  He planned no sweeping reforms, his system of morality
+being little more than a series of graceful compromises with
+himself.  He must not get hopelessly in debt; he must not get
+helplessly drunk.  Dealing candidly with his own soul in the
+silence, he presently came to the belief that this might be done
+without special hardship.  Then suddenly the rusted name-plate on
+Hannibal's old rifle danced again before his burning eyes, and a
+bitter sense of hurt and loss struck through him.  He saw himself
+as he was, a shabby outcast, a tavern hanger-on, the utter
+travesty of all he should have been; he dropped his arm across
+his face.
+
+
+The first rift of light in the sky found the judge stirring; it
+found him in his usual cheerful frame of mind.  He disposed of
+his toilet and breakfast with the greatest expedition.
+
+"Will you stroll into town with me, Solomon?" he asked, when they
+had eaten.  Mahaffy shook his head, his air was still plainly
+hostile.  "Then let your prayers follow me, for I'm off!" said
+the judge.
+
+Ten minutes' walk brought him to the door of the city tavern,
+where he found Mr. Pegloe directing the activities of a small
+colored boy who was mopping out his bar.  To him the judge made
+known his needs.
+
+"Goin' to locate, are you?" said Mr. Pegloe.
+
+"My friends urge it, sir, and I have taken the matter under
+consideration," answered the judge.
+
+"Sho, do you know any folks hereabouts?" asked Mr. Pegloe.
+
+"Not many," said the judge, with reserve.
+
+"Well, the only empty house in town is right over yonder; it
+belongs to young Charley Norton out at Thicket Point Plantation."
+
+Ah-h!" said the judge.
+
+The house Mr. Pegloe had pointed out was a small frame building;
+it stood directly on the street, with a narrow porch across the
+front, and a shed addition at the back.  The judge scuttled over
+to it.  With his hands clasped under the tails of his coat he
+walked twice about the building, stopping to peer in at all the
+windows, then he paused and took stock of his surroundings.  Over
+the way was Pegloe's City Tavern; farther up the street was the
+court-house, a square wooden box with a crib that housed a
+cracked bell, rising from a gable end.  The judge's pulse
+quickened.  What a location, and what a fortunate chance that Mr.
+Norton was the owner of this most desirable tenement
+
+He must see him at once.  As he turned away to recross the street
+and learn from Mr. Pegloe by what road Thicket Point might be
+reached, Norton himself galloped into the village.  Catching
+sight of the judge, he reined in.  his horse and swung himself
+from the saddle.
+
+"I was hoping, sir, I might find you," he said, as they met
+before the tavern.
+
+"A wish I should have echoed had I been aware of it!" responded
+the judge.  "I was about to do myself the honor to wait upon you
+at your plantation."
+
+"Then I have saved you a long walk," said Norton.  He surveyed
+the judge rather dubiously, but listened with great civility and
+kindness as he explained the business that would have taken him
+to Thicket Point.
+
+"The house is quite at your service, sir," he said, at length.
+
+"The rent--" began the judge.  He had great natural delicacy
+always in mentioning matters of a financial nature.
+
+But Mr. Norton, with a delicacy equal to his own, entreated him
+not to mention the rent.  The house had come to him as boot in a
+trade.  It had been occupied by a doctor and a lawyer; these
+gentlemen had each decamped between two days, heavily in debt at
+the stores and taverns, especially the taverns.
+
+"I can't honestly say they owed me, since I never expected to get
+anything out of them; however, they both left some furniture, all
+that was necessary for the kind of housekeeping they did, for
+they were single gentlemen and drew the bulk of their nourishment
+from Pegloe's bar.  I'll turn the establishment over to you with
+the greatest pleasure in the world, and wish you better luck than
+your predecessors had --you'll offend me if you refer to the rent
+again!"
+
+And thus handsomely did Charley Norton acquit himself of the
+mission he had undertaken at Betty Malroy's request.
+
+That same morning Tom Ware and Captain Murrell were seated in the
+small detached building at Belle Plain, known as the office,
+where the former spent most of his time when not in the saddle.
+Whatever the planter's vices, and he was reputed to possess a
+fair working knowledge of good and evil, no one had ever charged
+him with hypocrisy.  His emotions lay close to the surface and
+wrote themselves on his unprepossessing exterior with an
+impartial touch.  He had felt no pleasure when Murrell rode into
+the yard, and he had welcomed him according to the dictates of
+his mood, which was one of surly reticence.
+
+"So your sister doesn't like me, Tom--that's on your mind this
+morning, is it?" Murrell was saying, as he watched his friend out
+of the corner of his eyes.
+
+"She was mad enough, the way you pushed in on us at Boggs'
+yesterday.  What happened back in North Carolina, Murrell,
+anyhow?"
+
+"Never you mind what happened."
+
+"Well, it's none of my business, I reckon; she'll have to look
+out for herself, she's nothing to me but a pest sand a nuisance
+--I've been more bothered since she came back than I've been in
+years!  I'd give a good deal to be rid of her," said Ware,
+greatly depressed as he recalled the extraordinary demands Betty
+had made.
+
+"Make it worth my while and I'll take her off your hands," and
+Murrell laughed.
+
+Tom favored him with a sullen stare.
+
+"You'd better get rid of that notion--of all fool nonsense, this
+love business is the worst!  I can't see the slightest damn
+difference between one good looking girl and another.  I wish
+every one was as sensible as I am," he lamented.  "I wouldn't
+miss a meal, or ten minutes' sleep, on account of any woman in
+creation," and Ware shook his head.
+
+"So your sister doesn't like me?"
+
+"No, she doesn't," said Ware, with simple candor.
+
+"Told you to put a stop to my coming here?"
+
+"Not here--to the house, yes.  She doesn't give a damn, so long
+as she doesn't have to see you."
+
+Murrell, somber-faced and thoughtful, examined a crack in the
+flooring.
+
+"I'd like to know what happened back yonder in North Carolina to
+make her so blazing mad?" continued Ware.
+
+"Well, if you want to know, I told her I loved her."
+
+"That's all right, that's the fool talk girls like to hear," said
+Ware.  He lighted a cigar with an air of wearied patience.
+
+"Open the door, Tom," commanded Murrell.
+
+"It is close in here," agreed the planter.
+
+"It isn't that, but you smoke the meanest cigars I ever smelt, I
+always think your shoes are on fire.  Tom, do you want to get rid
+of her?  Did yot mean that?"
+
+"Oh, shut up," said Tom, dropping his voice to a surly whisper.
+
+There was a brief silence, during which Murrell studied his
+friend's face.  When he spoke, it was to give the conversation a
+new direction.
+
+"Did she bring the boy here last night?  I saw you drive off with
+him in the carriage."
+
+"Yes, she makes a regular pet of the little ragamuffin--it's
+perfectly sickening!"
+
+"Who were the two men with him?"
+
+"One of 'em calls himself judge Price; the other kept out of the
+way, I didn't hear his name."
+
+"Is the boy going to stay at Belle Plain?" inquired Murrell.
+
+"That notion hasn't struck her yet, for I heard her say at
+breakfast that she'd take him to Raleigh this afternoon."
+
+"That's the boy I traveled all the way to North Carolina to get for
+Fentress.  I thought I had him once, but the little cuss gave me
+the slip."
+
+"Eh--you don't say?" cried Ware.
+
+"Tom, what do you know about the Quintard lands; what do you know
+about Quintard himself?" continued Murrell.
+
+"He was a rich planter, lived in North Carolina.  My father met
+him when he was in congress and got him to invest in land here.
+They had some colonization scheme on foot this was upward of
+twenty years ago--but nothing came of it.  Ouintard lost
+interest."
+
+"And the land?"
+
+"Oh, he held on to that."
+
+"Is there much of it?"
+
+"A hundred thousand acres," said Ware.
+
+Murrell whistled softly under his breath.
+
+"What's it worth?"
+
+"A pot of money, two or three dollars an acre anyhow," answered
+Ware.
+
+"Quintard has been dead two years, Tom, and back yonder in North
+Carolina they told me he left nothing but the home plantation.
+The boy lived there up to the time of Quintard's death, but what
+relation he was to the old man no one knew.  What do you suppose
+Fentress wants with him?  He offered me five thousand dollars if
+I'd bring him West; and he still wants him, only he's lying low
+now to see what comes of the two old sots--he don't want to move
+in the dark.  Offhand, Tom, I'd say that by getting hold of the
+boy Fentress expects to get hold of the Quintard land."
+
+"That's likely," said Ware, then struck by a sudden idea, he
+added, "Are you going to take all the risks and let him pocket
+the cash?  If it's the land he's after, the stake's big enough to
+divide."
+
+"He can have the whole thing and welcome, I'm playing for a
+bigger stake."  His friend stared at him in astonishment.  "I
+tell you, Tom, I'm bent on getting even with the world!  No
+silver spoon came in the way of my mouth when I was a youngster;
+my father was too honest--and I think the less of him for it!"
+
+Mr. Ware seemed on the whole edified by the captain's unorthodox
+point of view.
+
+"My mother was the true grit though; she came of mountain stock,
+and taught us children to steal by the time we could think!
+Whatever we stole, she hid, and dared my father to touch us.  I
+remember the first thing of account was when I was ten years old.
+A Dutch peddler came to our cabin one winter night and begged us
+to take him in.  Of course, he opened his pack before he left,
+and almost under his nose I got away with a bolt of linen.  The
+old man and woman fought about it, but if the peddler discovered
+his loss he had the sense not to come back and tell of it!  When
+I was seventeen I left home with three good horses I'd picked up;
+they brought me more money than I'd ever seen before and I got my
+first taste of life--that was in Nashville where I made some good
+friends with whose help I soon had as pretty a trade organized in
+horseflesh as any one could wish."  A somber tone had crept into
+Murrell's voice, while his glance had become restless and uneasy.
+He went on: "I'm licking a speculation into shape that will cause
+me to be remembered while there's a white man alive in the
+Mississippi Valley!"  His wicked black eyes were blazing coals of
+fire in their deep sockets.  "Have you heard what the niggers did
+at Hayti?"
+
+"My God, John--no, I won't talk to you--and don't you think about
+it!  That's wrong--wrong as hell itself!" cried Ware.
+
+"There's no such thing as right and wrong for me.  That'll do for
+those who have something to lose.  I was born with empty hands
+and I am going to fill them where and how I can.  I believe the
+time has come when the niggers can be of use to me--look what
+Turner did back in Virginia three years ago!  If he'd had any
+real purpose he could have laid the country waste, but he hadn't
+brains enough to engineer a general uprising."
+
+Ware was probably as remote from any emotion that even vaguely
+approximated right feeling as any man could well be, but
+Murrell's words jarred his dull conscience, or his fear, into
+giving signs of life.
+
+"Don't you talk of that business, we want nothing of that sort
+out here.  You let the niggers alone!" he said, but he could
+scarcely bring himself to believe that Murrell had spoken in
+earnest.  Yet even if he jested, this was a forbidden subject.
+
+"White brains will have to think for them, if it's to be more
+than a flash in the pan," said Murrell unheeding him.
+
+"You let the niggers alone, don't you tamper with them," said
+Ware.  He possessed a profound belief in Murrell's capacity.  He
+knew how the latter had shaped the uneasy population that
+foregathered on the edge of civilization to his own ends, and
+that what he had christened the Clan had become an elaborate
+organization, disciplined and flexible to his ruthless will.
+
+"Look here, what do you think I have been working for--to steal a
+few niggers?"
+
+"A few--you've been sending 'em south by the boatload!  You ought
+to be a rich man, Murrell.  If you're not it's your own fault."
+
+"That furnishes us with money, but you can push the trade too
+hard and too far, and we've about done that.  The planters are
+uneasy in the sections we've worked over, there's talk of getting
+together to clean out everybody who can't give a good account of
+himself.  The Clan's got to deal a counter blow or go out of
+business.  It was so with the horse trade; in the end it became
+mighty unhandy to move the stock we'd collected.  We've reached
+the same point now with the trade in niggers.  Between here and
+the gulf--" he made a wide sweeping gesture with his arm.  "I am
+spotting the country with my men; there are two thousand active
+workers on the rolls of the Clan, and as many more like you, Tom
+--and Fentress--on whose friendship I can rely."  He leaned toward
+Ware.  "You'd be slow to tell me I couldn't count on you, Tom,
+and you'd be slow to think I couldn't manage this thing when the
+time's ripe for it!"
+
+But no trace of this all-sufficient sense of confidence, of which
+he seemed so certain, showed on Ware's hardened visage.  He spat
+away the stump of his cigar.
+
+"Sure as God, John Murrell, you are overreaching yourself!  Your
+white men are all right, they've got to stick by you; if they
+don't they know it's only a question of time until they get a
+knife driven into their ribs--but niggers--there isn't any real
+fight in a nigger, if there was they wouldn't be here."
+
+"Yet you couldn't have made the whites in Hayti believe that,"
+said Murrell, with a sinister smile.
+
+"Because they were no-account trash themselves!" returned Ware,
+shaking his head.  "We'll all go down in this muss you're fixing
+for!" he added.
+
+"No, you won't, Tom.  I'll look out for my friends.  You'll be
+warned in time."
+
+"A hell of a lot of good a warning will do!" growled Ware.
+
+"The business will be engineered so that you, and those like you,
+will not be disturbed.  Maybe the niggers will have control of
+the country for a day or two in the thickly settled parts near
+the towns; longer, of course, where the towns and plantations are
+scattering.  The end will come in the swamps and cane-brakes, and
+the members of the Clan who don't get rich while the trouble is
+at its worst, will have to stay poor.  As for the niggers, I
+expect nothing else than that they will be pretty well
+exterminated.  But look what that will do for men like yourself,
+Tom, who will have been able to hold on to their slaves!"
+
+"I'd like to have some guarantee that I'd be able to; do that!
+No, sir, the devils will all go whooping off to raise hell."
+Ware shivered at the picture his mind had conjured up.  "Well,
+thank God, they're not my niggers!" he added.
+
+"You'd better come with me, Tom," said Murrell.
+
+"With you?"
+
+"Yes, I'm going to keep New Orleans for myself; that's a plum I'm
+going to pick with the help of a few friends, and I'd cheerfully
+hang for it afterward if I could destroy the city Old Hickory
+saved--but I expect to quit the country in good time; with a
+river full of ships I shan't lack for means of escape."  His
+manner was cool and decided.  He possessed in an eminent degree
+the egotism that makes possible great crimes and great criminals,
+and his degenerate brain dealt with this colossal horror as
+simply as if it had been a petty theft.
+
+"There's no use in trying to talk you out of this, John, but I
+just want to ask you one thing: you do all you say you are going
+to do, and then where in hell's name will you be safe?"
+
+"I'll take my chances.  What have I been taking all my life but
+the biggest sort of chances?--and for little enough!"
+
+Ware, feeling the entire uselessness of argument, uttered a
+string of imprecations, and then fell silent.  His acquaintance
+with Murrell was of long standing.  It dated back to the time
+when he was growing into the management of Belle Plain.  A chance
+meeting with the outlaw in Memphis had developed into the closest
+intimacy, and the plantation had become one of the regular
+stations for the band of horse-thieves of which Murrell had
+spoken.  But time had wrought its changes.  Tom was now in full
+control of Belle Plain and its resources, and he had little heart
+for such risks as he had once taken.
+
+"Well, how about the girl, Tom?" asked Murrell at length, in a
+low even tone.
+
+"The girl?  Oh, Betty, you mean?" said Ware, and shifted uneasily
+in his seat.  "Haven't you got enough on your hands without
+worrying about her?  She don't like you, haven't I told you that?
+Think of some one else for a spell, and you'll find it answers,"
+he urged.
+
+"What do you think is going to happen here if I take your advice?
+She'll marry one of these young bloods!"  Ware's lips twitched.
+"And then, Tom, you'll get your orders to move out, while her
+husband takes over the management of her affairs.  What have you
+put by anyhow?--enough to stock another place?"
+
+"Nothing, not a damn cent!" said Ware.  Murrell laughed
+incredulously.  "It's so!  I've turned it all over--more lands,
+more niggers, bigger crops each year.  Another man might have
+saved his little spec, but I couldn't; I reckon I never believed
+it would go to her, and I've managed Belle Plain as if I were
+running it for myself."  He seemed to writhe as if undergoing
+some acute bodily pain.
+
+"And you are in a fair way to turn it all over to her husband
+when she marries, and step out of here a beggar, unless--"
+
+"It isn't right, John!  I haven't had pay for my ability!  Why,
+the place would have gone down to nothing with any management but
+mine!"
+
+"If she were to die, you'd inherit?"
+
+Ware laughed harshly.
+
+"She looks like dying, doesn't she?"
+
+"Listen to me, Tom.  I'll take her away, and Belle Plain is
+yours--land, stock and niggers!" said Murrell quietly.
+
+Ware shifted and twisted in his seat.
+
+"It can't be done.  I can advise and urge: but I can't command.
+She's got her friends, those people back yonder in North
+Carolina, and if I made things uncomfortable for her here she'd
+go to them and I couldn't stop her.  You don't seem to get it
+through your head that she's got no earthly use for you!"
+
+Murrell favored him with a contemptuous glance.
+
+"You're like every one else!  Certain things you'll do, and
+certain other things you won't even try to do--your conscience or
+your fear gets in your way."
+
+"Call it what you like."
+
+"I offer to take the girl off your hands; when I quit the country
+she shall go with me--"
+
+"And I'd be left here to explain what had become of her!" cried
+Ware, in a panic.
+
+"You won't have anything to explain.  She'll have disappeared,
+that will be all you'll know," said Murrell quietly.
+
+"She'll never marry you."
+
+"Don't you be too sure of that.  She may be glad enough to in the
+end."
+
+"Oh, you think you are a hell of a fellow with women!  Well,
+maybe you are with one sort--but what do you know about her
+kind?" jeered the planter.
+
+Murrell's brow darkened.
+
+"I'll manage her," he said briefly.
+
+"You were of some account until this took hold of you,"
+complained Ware.
+
+"What do you say?  One would hardly think I was offering to make
+you a present of the best plantation in west Tennessee!" said
+Murrell.
+
+Ware seemed to suck in hope through his shut teeth.
+
+"I don't want to know anything about this, you are going to swamp
+yourself yet--you're fixing to get yourself strung up--yes, by
+thunder, that'll be your finish!"
+
+"Do you want the land and the niggers?  I reckon you'll have to
+take them whether you want them or not, for I'm going to have the
+girl."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+BOB YANCY FINDS HIMSELF
+
+
+Mr. Yancy awoke from a long dreamless sleep; heavy-lidded, his
+eyes slid open.  For a moment he struggled with the odds and ends
+of memory, then he recalled the fight at the tavern, the sudden
+murderous attack, the fierce blows Slosson had dealt him, the
+knife thrust which had ended the struggle.  Therefore, the
+bandages that now swathed his head and shoulders; therefore, the
+need that he should be up and doing--for where was Hannibal?
+
+He sought to lift himself on his elbow, but the effort sent
+shafts of pain through him; his head seemed of vast size and
+endowed with a weight he could not support.  He sank back
+groaning, and closed his eyes.  After a little interval he opened
+them again and stared about him.  There was the breath of dawn in
+the air; he heard a rooster crow, and the contented grunting of a
+pig close at hand.  He was resting under a rude shelter of poles
+and bark.  Presently he became aware of a slow gliding movement,
+and the silvery ripple of water.  Clearly he was no longer at the
+tavern, and clearly some one had taken the trouble to bandage his
+hurts.
+
+At length his eyes rolling from side to side focused themselves
+on a low opening near the foot of his shakedown bed.  Beyond this
+opening, and at some little distance, he saw a sunbonneted woman
+of a plump and comfortable presence.  She was leaning against a
+tub which rested on a rude bench.  At her back was another bark
+shanty similar to the one that sheltered himself, while on either
+hand a shoreless expanse of water danced and sparkled under the
+rays of the newly risen sun.  As his eyes slowly took in the
+scene, Yancy's astonishment mounted higher and higher.  The
+lady's sunbonnet quite hid her face, but he saw that she was
+smoking a cob-pipe.
+
+He was still staring at her, when the lank figure of a man
+emerged from the other shanty.  This man wore a cotton shirt and
+patched butternut trousers; he way hatless and shoeless, and his
+hair stood out from his head in a great flaming shock.  He, too,
+was smoking a cob-pipe.  Suddenly the man put out a long arm
+which found its way about the lady's waist, an attention that
+culminated in a vigorous embrace.  Then releasing her, he squared
+his shoulders, took a long breath, beat his chest with the flat
+of his hands and uttered a cheerful whoop.  The embrace, the deep
+breath, and the whoop constituted Mr. Cavendish's morning
+devotions, and were expressive of a spirit of thankfulness to the
+risen sun, his general satisfaction with the course of
+Providence, and his homage to the lady of his choice.
+
+Swinging about on his heel, Cavcndish passed beyond Yancy's range
+of vision.  Again the latter attempted to lift himself on his
+elbow, but sky and water changed places before his eyes and he
+dropped down on his pillow with a stifled sigh.  He seemed to be
+slipping back into the black night from which he had just
+emerged.  Again he was at Scratch Hill, again Dave Blount was
+seeking to steal his nevvy--incidents of the trial and flight
+recurred to him--all was confused, feverish, without sequence.
+
+Suddenly a shadow fell obliquely across the foot of his narrow
+bed, and Cavendish, bending his long body somewhat, thrust his
+head in at the opening.  He found himself looking into a pair of
+eyes that for the first time in many a long day held the light of
+consciousness.
+
+"How are you, stranger?" he demanded, in a soft drawl.
+
+"Where am I?" the words were a whisper on Yancy's bearded lips.
+
+"Well, sir, you are in the Tennessee River fo' certain; my wife
+will make admiration when she hears you speak.  Polly!  you jest
+step here."
+
+But Polly had heard Cavendish speak, and the murmur of Yancy's
+voice in reply.  Now her head appeared beside her husband's, and
+Yancy saw that she was rosy and smiling, and that her claim to
+good looks was something that could not well be denied.
+
+"La, you are some better, ain't you, sir?" she cried, smiling
+down on him
+
+"How did I get here, and where's my nevvy ?" questioned Yancy
+anxiously.
+
+"There now, you ain't in no condition fo' to pester yo'self with
+worry.  You was fished up out of the Elk River by Mr. Cavendish,"
+Polly explained, still smiling and dimpling at him.
+
+"When, ma'am--last night?"
+
+"You got another guess coming to you, stranger!"  It was
+Cavendish who spoke.
+
+"Do you mean, sir, that I been unconscious for a spell?"
+suggested Yancy rather fearfully, glancing from one to the other.
+
+"It's been right smart of a spell, too; yes, sir, you've laid
+like you was dead, and not fo' a matter of hours either--but
+days."
+
+"How long?"
+
+"Well, nigh on to three weeks."
+
+They saw Yancy's eyes widen with a look of dumb horror.
+
+"Three weeks!" he at length repeated, and groaned miserably.  He
+was thinking of Hannibal.
+
+"You was mighty droll to look at when I fished you up out of the
+river," continued Mr. Cavendish.  "You'd been cut and beat up
+scandalous!"
+
+"And you don't know nothing about my nevvy?--you ain't seen or
+heard of him, ma'am?" faltered Yancy, and glanced up into Polly's
+comely face.
+
+Polly shook her head regretfully.
+
+"How come you in the river?" asked Cavendish.
+
+"I reckon I was throwed in.  It was a man named Murrell and
+another man named Slosson.  They tried fo' to murder me--they
+wanted to get my nevvy--I 'low they done it!" and Yancy groaned
+again.
+
+"You'll get him back," said Polly soothingly.
+
+"Could you-all put me asho'?" inquired Yancy, with sudden
+eagerness.
+
+"We could, but we won't," said Cavendish, in no uncertain tone.
+
+"Why, la!--you'd perish!" exclaimed Polly.
+
+"Are we far from where you-all picked me up?"
+
+Cavendish nodded.  He did not like to tell Yancy the distance
+they had traversed.
+
+"Where are you-all taking me?" asked Yancy.
+
+"Well, stranger, that's a question I can't answer offhand.  The
+Tennessee are a twister; mebby it will be Kentucky; mebby it will
+be Illinoy, and mebby it will be down yonder on the Mississippi.
+My tribe like this way of moving about, and it certainly favors a
+body's legs."
+
+"How old was your nevvy?" inquired Polly, reading the troubled
+look in Yancy's gray eyes.
+
+"Ten or thereabouts, ma'am.  He were a heap of comfort to me" and
+the whisper on Yancy's lips was wonderfully tender and wistful.
+
+"Just the age of my Richard," said Polly, her glance full of
+compassion and pity.
+
+Mr. Cavendish essayed to speak, but was forced to pause and clear
+his throat.  The allusion to Richard in this connection having
+been almost more than he could endure with equanimity.  When he
+was able to put his thoughts into words, he said:
+
+"I shore am distressed fo' you.  I tried to leave you back yonder
+where I found you, but no one knowed you and you looked so near
+dead folks wouldn't have it.  What parts do you come from?"
+
+"No'th Carolina.  Me and my nevvy was a-goin' into west Tennessee
+to a place called Belle Plain, somewhere near Memphis.  We have
+friends there," explained Yancy.
+
+"That settles it!" cried Cavendish.  "It won't be Kentucky, and
+it won't be Illinoy; I'll put you asho' at Memphis; mebby you'll
+find yo' nevvy there after all."
+
+"That's the best.  You lay still and get yo' strength back as
+fast as you can, and try not to worry--do now."  Polly"s voice
+was soft and wheedling.
+
+"I reckon I been a heap of bother to you-all," said Yancy.
+
+"La, no," Polly assured him; "you ain't been."
+
+And now the six little Cavendishes appeared on the scene.  The
+pore gentleman had come to--sho!  He had got his senses back
+--sho! he wa'n't goin' to die after all; he could talk.  Sho! a
+body could hear him plain!  Excited beyond measure they scurried
+about in their fluttering rags of nightgowns for a sight and
+hearing of the pore gentleman.  They struggled madly to climb
+over their parents, and failing this--under them.  But the
+opening that served as a door to the shanty being small, and
+being as it was completely stoppered by their father and mother
+who were in no mood to yield an inch, they distributed themselves
+in quest of convenient holes in the bark edifice through which to
+peer at the pore gentleman.  And since the number of youthful
+Cavendishes exceeded the number of such holes, the sound of
+lamentation and recrimination presently filled the morning air.
+
+"I kin see the soles of his feet!" shrieked Keppel with
+passionate intensity, his small bleached eye glued to a crack.
+
+He was instantly ravished of the sight by Henry.
+
+"You mean hateful thing!--just because you're bigger than Kep!"
+and Constance fell on the spoiler.  As her mother's right-hand
+man she had cuffed and slapped her way to a place of power among
+the little brothers.
+
+Mr. Cavendish appeared to allay hostilities.
+
+"I 'low I'll skin you if you don't keep still!  Dress!--the whole
+kit and b'ilin' of you!" he roared, and his manner was quite as
+ferocious as his words.
+
+But the six little Cavendishes were impressed by neither.  They
+instantly fastened on him like so many leeches.  What was the
+pore gentleman saying?--why couldn't they hear, too?  Then they'd
+keep still, sure they would!  Did he say he knowed who throwed
+him in the river?
+
+"I wonder, Connie, you ain't able to do more with these here
+children.  Seems like you ought to--a great big girl like you,"
+said Mr. Cavendish, reduced to despair.
+
+"It was Henry pickin' on Kep," cried Constance.
+
+"I found a crack and he took it away from me! drug me off by the
+legs, he did, and filled my stomach full of slivers!" wailed
+Keppel, suddenly remembering he had a grievance.  "You had ought
+to let me see the pore gentleman!" he added ingratiatingly.
+
+"Well, ain't you been seein' him every day fo' risin' two weeks
+and upwards?--ain't you sat by him hours at a stretch?" demanded
+Mr. Cavendish fiercely.
+
+Sho--that didn't count, he only kept a mutterin'--sho!--arollin'
+his head sideways, sho!  And their six tow heads were rolled to
+illustrate their meaning.  And a-pluckin' at a body's hands!--and
+they plucked at Mr. Cavendish's hands.  Sho--did he say why he
+done that?
+
+"If you-all will quit yo' noise and dress, you-all kin presently
+set by the pore gentleman.  If you don't, I'll have to speak to
+yo' mother; I 'low she'll trim you!  I reckon you-all don't want
+me to call her?  No, by thunderation!--because you-all know she
+won't stand no nonsense!  She'll fan you; she'll take the flat of
+her hand to you-all and make you skip some; I reckon I'd get into
+my pants befo' she starts on the warpath.  I wouldn't give her no
+such special opportunity as you're offerin'!" Mr. Cavendish's
+voice and manner had become entirely confidential and
+sympathetic, and though fear of their mother could not be said to
+bulk high on their horizon, yet the small Cavendishes were
+persuaded by sheer force of his logic to withdraw and dress.
+Their father hurried back to Yancy.
+
+"I was just thinkin', sir," he said, "that if it would be any
+comfort to you, we'll tie up to the bank right here and wait
+until you can travel.  I'm powerfully annoyed at having fetched
+you all this way!"
+
+But Yancy shook his head.
+
+"I'll be glad to go on to Memphis with you.  If my nevvy got away
+from Murrell, that's where I'll find him.  I reckon folks will be
+kind to him and sort of help him along.  Why, he ain't much mo'
+than knee high!"
+
+"Shore they will! there's a lot of good in the world, so don't
+you fret none about him!" cried Polly.
+
+"I can't do much else, ma'am, than think of him bein' lonesome
+and hungry, maybe--and terribly frightened.  What do you-all
+suppose he thought when he woke up and found me gone?"  But
+neither Polly nor her husband had any opinion to venture on this
+point.  "If I don't find him in Memphis I'll take the back track
+to No'th Carolina, stoppin' on the way to see that man Slosson."
+
+"Well, I 'low there's a fit comin' to him when he gets sight of
+you!" and Cavendish's bleached blue eyes sparkled at the thought.
+
+"There's a heap mo' than a fit.  I don't bear malice, but I stay
+mad a long time," answered Yancy grimly:
+
+"You shouldn't talk no mo'," said Polly.  "You must just lay
+quiet and get yo' strength back.  Now, I'm goin' to fix you a
+good meal of vittles."  She motioned Cavendish to follow her, and
+they both withdrew from the shanty.
+
+Yancy closed his eyes, and presently, lulled by the soft ripple
+that bore them company, fell into a restful sleep.
+
+"When he told us of his nevvy, Dick, and I got to thinkin' of his
+bein' just the age of our Richard, I declare it seemed like
+something got in my throat and I'd choke.  Do you reckon he'll
+ever find him?" said Polly, as she busied herself with
+preparations for their breakfast.
+
+"I hope so, Polly!" said Cavendish, but her words were a powerful
+assault on his feelings, which at all times lay close to the
+surface and were easily stirred.
+
+Under stress of his emotions, he now enjoined silence on his
+family, fortifying the injunction with dire threats as to the
+consequences that would descend with lightning--like suddenness
+on the head of the unlucky sinner who forgot and raised his voice
+above a whisper.  Then he despatched a chicken; sure sign that he
+and Polly considered their guest had reached the first stage of
+convalescence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+AN ORPHAN MAN OF TITLE
+
+
+The raft drifted on into the day's heat; and when at last Yancy
+awoke, it was to find Henry and Keppel seated beside him, each
+solacing him with a small moist hand, while they regarded him out
+of the serious unblinking eyes of childhood.
+
+"Howdy!" said he, smiling up at them.
+
+"Howdy!" they answered, a sociable grin puckering their freckled
+faces.
+
+"Do you find yo'self pretty well, sir?" inquired Keppel.
+
+"I find myself pretty weak," replied Yancy.
+
+"Me and Kep has been watching fo' to keep the flies from stinging
+you," explained Henry.
+
+"We-all takes turns doin' that," Keppel added.
+
+"Well, and how many of you-all are there?" asked Yancy.
+
+"There's six of we-uns and the baby."
+
+They covertly examined this big bearded man who had lost his
+nevvy, and almost his life.  They had overheard their father and
+mother discuss his plans and knew when he was recovered from his
+wounds if he did not speedily meet up with his nevvy at a place
+called Memphis, he was going back to Lincoln County, which was
+near where they came from, to have the hide off a gentleman of
+the name of Slosson.  They imagined the gentleman named Slosson
+would find the operation excessively disagreeable; and that Yancy
+should be recuperating for so unique an enterprise invested him
+with a romantic interest.  Henry squirmed closer to the recumbent
+figure on the bed.
+
+"Me and Kep would like mighty well to know how you-all are goin'
+to strip the hide offen to that gentleman's back," he observed.
+
+Yancy instantly surmised that the reference was to Slosson.
+
+"I reckon I'll feel obliged to just naturally skin him," he
+explained.
+
+"Sho', will he let you do that?" they demanded.
+
+"He won't be consulted none.  And his hide will come off easy
+once I get hold of him by the scruff of the neck."  Yancy's
+speech was gentle and his lips smiling, but he meant a fair share
+of what he said.
+
+"Sho', is that the way you do it?"  And round-eyed they gazed
+down on this fascinating stranger.
+
+"I may have to touch him up with a tickler," continued Yancy, who
+did not wish to prove disappointing.  "I reckon you-all know what
+a tickler is?"
+
+They nodded.
+
+"What if Mr. Slosson totes a tickler, too?" asked Keppel
+insinuatingly.  This opened an inviting field for conjecture.
+
+"That won't make no manner of difference.  Why?  Because it's a
+powerful drawback fo' a man to know he's in the wrong, just as
+it's a heap in yo' favor to know you're in the right."
+
+"My father's got a tickler; I seen it often," vouchsafed Henry.
+
+"It's a foot long, with a buck horn handle.  Gee whiz!--he keeps
+it keen; but he never uses it on no humans," said Keppel.
+
+"Of course he don't; he's a high-spirited, right-actin'
+gentleman.  But what do you reckon he'd feel obliged to do if a
+body stole one of you-all?" inquired Yancy.
+
+"Whoop!  He'd carve 'em deep!" cried Keppel.
+
+At this moment Mrs.  Cavendish appeared, bringing Yancy's
+breakfast.  In her wake came Connie with the baby, and the three
+little brothers who were to be accorded the cherished privilege
+of seeing the poor gentleman eat.
+
+"You got a nice little family, ma'am," said Yancy.
+
+"Well, I reckon nobody complains mo' about their children than
+me, but I reckon nobody gets mo' comfort out of their children
+either.  I hope you-all are a-goin' to be able to eat, you ain't
+had much nourishment.  La, does yo' shoulder pain you like that?
+Want I should feed you?"
+
+"I am sorry, ma'am, but I reckon you'll have to," Yancy spoke
+regretfully.  "I expect I been a passel of bother to you."
+
+"No, you ain't.  Here's Dick to see how you make out with the
+chicken," Polly added, as Cavendish presented himself at the
+opening that did duty as a door.
+
+"This looks like bein' alive, stranger," he commented genially.
+He surveyed the group of which Yancy was the center.  "If them
+children gets too numerous, just throw 'em out."
+
+"You-all ain't told me yo' name yet?" said Yancy.
+
+"It's Cavendish.  Richard Keppel Cavendish, to get it all off my
+mind at a mouthful.  And this lady's Mrs.  Cavendish."
+
+"My name's Yancy--Bob Yancy."
+
+Mr. Cavendish exchanged glances with Mrs.  Cavendish.  By a nod
+of her dimpled chin the lady seemed to urge some more extended
+confidence on his part.  Chills and Fever seated himself at the
+foot of Yancy's bed.
+
+"Stranger, what I'm a-goin' to tell you, you'll take as bein'
+said man to man," he began, with the impressive air of one who
+had a secret of great moment to impart; and Yancy hastened to
+assure him that whatever passed between them, his lips should be
+sealed.  "It ain't really that, but I don't wish to appear proud
+afo' no man's, eyes.  First, I want to ask you, did you ever hear
+tell of titles?"
+
+Polly and the children hung breathlessly on Mr. Yancy's reply.
+
+"I certainly have," he rejoined promptly.  "Back in No'th
+Carolina we went by the chimneys."
+
+"Chimneys?  What's chimneys got to do with titles, Mr. Yancy?"
+asked Polly, while her husband appeared profoundly mystified.
+
+"A whole lot, ma'am.  If a man had two chimneys to his house we
+always called him Colonel, if there was four chimneys we called
+him General."
+
+"La!" cried Polly, smiling and showing a number of new dimples.
+"Dick don't mean militia titles, Mr. Yancy."
+
+"Them's the only ones I know anything of," confessed Yancy.
+
+"Ever hear tell of lords?" inquired Chills and Fever, tilting his
+head on one side.
+
+"No."  And Yancy was quick to notice the look of disappointment
+on the faces of his new friends.  He felt that for some reason,
+which was by no means clear to him, he had lost caste.
+
+"Are you ever heard of royalty?" and Cavendish fixed the
+invalid's wandering glance.
+
+"You mean kings?"
+
+"I shore do."
+
+Yancy regarded him reflectively and made a mighty mental effort.
+
+"There's them Bible kings--" he ventured at length.
+
+Mr. Cavendish shook his head.
+
+"Them's sacred kings.  Are you familiar with any of the profane
+kings, Mr. Yancy?"
+
+"Well, taking them as they come, them Bible kings seemed to
+average pretty profane."  Yancy was disposed to defend this
+point.
+
+"You must a heard of the kings of England.  Sho', wa'n't any of
+yo' folks in the war agin' him?"
+
+"I'd plumb forgot, why my daddy fit all through that war!"
+exclaimed Yancy.  The Cavendishes were immensely relieved.  Polly
+beamed on the invalid, and the children hunched closer.  Six
+pairs of eager lips were trembling on the verge of speech.
+
+"Now you-all keep still," said Cavendish.  "I want Mr. Yancy
+should get the straight of this here!  The various orders of
+royalty are kings, dukes, earls and lords.  Earls is the third
+from the top of the heap, but lords ain't no slouch; it's a right
+neat little title, and them that has it can turn round in most
+any company."
+
+"Dick had ought to know, fo' he's an earl himself," cried Polly
+exultantly, unable to restrain herself any longer, while a mutter
+came from the six little Cavendishes who had been wonderfully
+silent for them.
+
+"Sho', Richard Keppel Cavendish, Earl of Lambeth!  'Sho', that
+was what he was!  Sho'!" and some transient feeling of awe
+stamped itself upon their small faces as they viewed the long and
+limber figure of their parent.
+
+"Is that mo' than a Colonel?" Yancy risked the question
+hesitatingly, but he felt that speech was expected from him.
+
+"Yes," said the possessor of the title.
+
+"Would a General lay it over you any?"
+
+"No, sir, he wouldn't."
+
+Yancy gazed respectfully but uncertainly at Chills and Fever.
+
+"Then all I got to say is that I've traveled considerably, mostly
+between Scratch Hill and Balaam's Cross Roads, meeting with all
+kinds of folks; but I never seen an earl afo.  I take it they are
+some scarce."
+
+"They are.  I don't reckon there's another one but me in the
+whole United States."
+
+"Think of that!" gasped Yancy.
+
+"We ain't nothin' fo' style, it bein' my opinion that where a
+man's a born gentleman he's got a heap of reason fo' to be
+grateful but none to brag," said Cavendish.
+
+"Dick's kind of titles are like having red hair and squint eyes.
+Once they get into a family they stick," explained Polly.
+
+"I've noticed that, 'specially about squint eyes."  Yancy was
+glad to plant his feet on familiar ground.
+
+"These here titles go to the eldest son.  He begins by bein' a
+viscount," continued Chills and Fever.  He wished Yancy to know
+the full measure of their splendor.
+
+"And their wives are ladies-ain't they, Dick?"
+
+Cavendish nodded.
+
+"Anybody with half an eye would know you was a lady, ma'am," said
+Yancy.
+
+"Kep here is an Honorable, same as a senator or a congressman,"
+Cavendish went on.
+
+"At his age, too!" commented Yancy.
+
+"And my daughter's the Lady Constance," said Polly.
+
+"Havin' such a mother she ain't no choice," observed Yancy, with
+an air of gentle deference.
+
+"Dick's got the family, Mr. Yancy.  My folks, the Rhetts, was
+plain people."
+
+"Some of 'em ain't so noticeably plain, either," said Yancy.
+
+"Sho', you've a heap of good sense, Mr. Yancy!" and Cavendish
+shook him warmly by the hand.  "The first time I ever seen her, I
+says, I'll marry that lady if it takes an arm!  Well, it did most
+of the time while I was co'tin' her."
+
+"La!" cried Polly, blushing furiously.  "You shouldn't tell that,
+Dick.  Mr. Yancy ain't interested."
+
+"Yes, sir, I'd been hearin' about old man Rhett's Polly fo'
+considerable of a spell," said Cavendish, looking at Polly
+reflectively.  "He lived up at the head waters of the Elk River.
+Fellows who had been to his place, when girls was mentioned would
+sort of shake their heads sad-like and say, 'Yes, but you had
+ought to see old man Rhett's Polly, all the rest is imitations!'
+Seemed like they couldn't get her off their minds.  So I just
+slung my kit to my back, shouldered my rifle, and hoofed it
+up-stream.  I says, I'll see for myself where this here paragon
+lays it all over the rest of her sect, but sho--the closter I
+came to old man Rhett the mo' I heard of Polly!"
+
+"Dick, how you do run on," cried Polly protestingly, but Chills
+and Fever's knightly soul dwelt in its illusions, and the years
+had not made stale his romance.  Also Polly was beaming on him
+with a wealth of affection.
+
+"I seen her fo' the first time as I was warmin' the trail within
+a mile of old man Rhett's.  She was carrying a grist of co'n down
+to the mill in her father's ox cart.  When I clapped eyes on her
+I says, 'I'll marry that lady.  I'll make her the Countess of
+Lambeth--she'll shore do fo' the peerage any day!'  That was yo'
+mommy, sneezic's!"  Mr. Cavendish paused to address himself to
+the baby whom Connie had relinquished to him.
+
+"You bet I made time the rest of the way.  I says, 'She's sixteen
+if she's a day, and all looks!'  I broke into old man Rhett's
+clearin' on a keen run.  He was a settin' afo' his do' smokin'
+his pipe and he glanced me over kind of weary-like and says,
+'Howdy!'  It wa'n't much of a greetin' the way he said it either;
+but I figured it was some better than bein' chased off the place.
+So I stepped indo's, stood my rifle in a corner and hung up my
+cap.  He was watchin' me and presently he drawled out, 'Make
+yo'self perfectly at home, stranger.'
+
+"I says, 'Squire'--he wa'n't a squire, but they called him that
+--I says, 'Squire, my name's Cavendish.  Let's get acquainted
+quick.  I'm here fo' to co'te yo' Polly.  I seen her on the road
+a spell back and I couldn't be better suited.'
+
+"He says, 'You had ought to be kivered up in salt, young man,
+else yo'll spile in this climate.'
+
+"I says, 'I'll keep in any climate.'
+
+'He says, 'Polly ain't givin' her thoughts much to marryin',
+she's busy keepin' house fo' her pore old father.'
+
+"I says, 'I've come here special fo' to arouse them thoughts you
+mention.  If I seem slow '
+
+"He says, 'You don't.  If this is yo' idea of bein' slow, I'd
+wish to avoid you when you was in a hurry.'
+
+"I says, 'Put in yo' spare moments thinkin' up a suitable
+blessin' fo' us.'
+
+"He says, 'You'll have yo' hands full.  There's a number of young
+fellows hereabouts that you don't lay it over none in p'int of
+freshness or looks.'
+
+"I says, 'Does she encourage any of 'em?'
+
+"He says, 'Nope, she don't.  Ain't I been tellin' you she's
+givin' her mind to keepin' house fo' her pore old father?'
+
+"I says, 'If she don't encourage 'em none, she shore must
+disencourage 'em.  I 'low she gets my help in that.'
+
+"He says, 'They'll run you so far into the mountings, Mr.
+Cavendish, you'll never be heard tell of again in these parts.'
+
+"I says, 'I'll bust the heads offen these here galoots if they
+try that!'
+
+"He asks, grinnin', 'Have you arranged how yo' remains are to be
+sent back to yo' folks?'
+
+"I says, 'I'm an orphan man of title, a peer of England, and you
+can leave me lay if it cones to that.'
+
+"'Well,'.  he says, 'if them's yo' wishes, the buzzards as good
+as got you."'  Cavendish lapsed into a momentary silence.  It was
+plain that these were cherished memories.
+
+"That's what I call co'tin!" remarked Mr. Yancy, with conviction.
+
+The Earl of Lambeth resumed
+
+"It was as bad as old man Rhett said it was.  Sundays his do'yard
+looked like a militia muster.  They told it on him that he hadn't
+cut a stick of wood since Polly was risin' twelve.  I reckon,
+without exaggeration, I fit every unmarried man in that end of
+the county, and two lookin' widowers from Nashville.  I served
+notice on to them that I'd attend to that woodpile of old man
+Rhett's fo' the future; that I was qualifying fo' to be his
+son-in-law, and seekin' his indorsement as a provider.  I took
+'em on one at a time as they happened along, and lambasted 'em
+all over the place.  As fo' the Nashville widowers," said
+Cavendish with a chuckle, and a nod to Polly, "I pretty nigh
+drownded one of 'em in the Elk.  We met in mid-stream and fit it
+out there; and the other quit the county.  That was fo'teen years
+ago; but, mind you, I'd do it all over again to-morrow."
+
+"But, Dick, you ain't telling Mr. Yancy nothin' about yo' title,"
+expostulated Polly.
+
+"I'd admire to hear mo' about that," said Yancy.
+
+"I'm gettin' round to that.  It was my great grandfather come
+over here from England.  His name was Richard Keppel Cavendish,
+same as mine is.  He lived back yonder on the Carolina coast and
+went to raisin' tobacco.  I've heard my grandfather tell how he'd
+heard folks say his father was always hintin' in his licker that
+he was a heap better than he seemed, and if people only knowed
+the truth about him they'd respect him mo', and mebby treat him
+better.  Well, sir, he married and riz a family; there was my
+grandfather and a passel of girls--and that crop of children was
+the only decent crop he ever riz.  I've heard my grandfather tell
+how, when he got old enough to notice such things, he seen that
+his father had the look of a man with something mysterious
+hangin' over him, but he couldn't make it out what it was, though
+he gave it a heap of study.  He seen, too, that let him get a
+taste of licker and he'd begin to throw out them hints, how if
+folks only knowed the truth they'd be just naturally fallin' over
+themselves fo' to do him a favor, instead of pickin' on him and
+tryin' to down him.
+
+"My grandfather said he never knowed a man, either, with the same
+aversion agin labor as his father had.  Folks put it down to
+laziness, but they misjudged him, as come out later, yet he never
+let on.  He just went around sorrowful-like, and when there was a
+piece of work fo' him to do he'd spend a heap of time studyin'
+it, or mebby he'd just set and look at it until he was ready fo'
+to give it up.  Appeared like he couldn't bring himself down to
+toil.
+
+"Then one day he got his hands on a paper that had come acrost in
+a ship from England.  He was readin' it, settin' in the shade; my
+grandfather said he always noticed he was partial to the shade,
+and his wife was pesterin' of him fo' to go and plow out his
+truck-patch, when, all at once, he lit on something in the paper,
+and he started up and let out a yell like he'd been shot.  'By
+gum, I'm the Earl of Lambeth!' he says, and took out to the
+nearest tavern and got b'ilin' full.  Afterward he showed 'em the
+paper and they seen with their own eyes where Richard Keppel
+Cavendish, Earl of Lambeth, had died in London.  My great
+grandfather told 'em that was his uncle; that when he left home
+there was several cousins--which was printed in the paper, too
+--but they'd up and died, so the title naturally come to him.
+
+"Well, sir, that was the first the family ever knowed of it, and
+then they seen what it was he'd meant when he throwed out them
+hints about bein' a heap better than he seemed.  He said perhaps
+he wouldn't never have told, only he couldn't bear to be
+misjudged like he'd always been.
+
+"He never done a lick of work after that.  He said he couldn't
+bring himself down to it; that it was demeanin' fo' a person of
+title fo' to labor with his hands like a nigger or a common white
+man.  He said he'd leave it to his family to see he didn't come
+to want, it didn't so much matter about them; and he lived true
+to his principles to the day of his death, and never riz his hand
+except to feed himself."
+
+Cavendish paused.  Yancy was feeling that in his own person he
+had experienced some of the best symptoms of a title.
+
+"Then what?" he asked.
+
+"Well, sir, he lived along like that, never complainin', my
+grandfather said, but mighty sweet and gentlelike as long as
+there was plenty to eat in the house.  He lived to be nigh
+eighty, and when he seen he was goin' to die he called my
+grandfather to him and says, 'She's yours, Dick,'--meanin' the
+title--and then he says, 'There's one thing I've kep' from you.
+You've been a viscount ever since I come into the title, and then
+he went on and explained what he wanted cut on his tombstone, and
+had my grandfather write it out, so there couldn't be any
+mistake.  When he'd passed away, my grandfather took the title.
+He said it made him feel mighty solemn and grand-like, and it
+come over him all at once why it was his father hadn't no heart
+fo' work."
+
+"Does it always take 'em that way?" inquired Yancy.
+
+"It takes the Earls of Lambeth that way.  I reckon you might say
+it was hereditary with 'em.  Where was I at?"
+
+"Your grandpap, the second earl," prompted Polly.
+
+"Oh, yes--well, he 'lowed he'd emigrate back to England, but
+while he was studying how he could do this, along come the war.
+He said he couldn't afford to fight agin his king, so he pulled
+out and crossed the mountings to avoid being drug into the army.
+He said he couldn't let it get around that the Earls of Lambeth
+was shootin' English soldiers."
+
+"Of course he couldn't," agreed Yancy.
+
+"It's been my dream to take Polly and the children and go back to
+England and see the king about my title.  I 'low he'd be some
+surprised to see us.  I'd like to tell him, too, what the Earls
+of Lambeth done fo' him--that they was always loyal, and thought
+a heap better of him than their neighbors done, and mebby some
+better than he deserved.  Don't you reckon that not hearin' from
+us, he's got the notion the Cavendishes has petered out?"
+
+Mr. Yancy considered this likely, and said so.
+
+"You might send him writin' in a letter," he suggested.
+
+The furious shrieking of a steam-packet's whistle broke in upon
+them.
+
+"It's another of them hawgs, wantin' all the river!" said Mr.
+Cavendish, and fled in haste to the steering oar.
+
+During all the long days that followed, Mr. Yancy was forced to
+own that these titled friends of his were, despite their social
+position, uncommon white in their treatment of him.  The Earl of
+Lambeth consorted with him in that fine spirit that recognizes
+the essential brotherhood of man, while his Lady Countess was, as
+Yancy observed, on the whole, a person of simple and uncorrupted
+tastes.  She habitually went barefoot, both as a matter of
+comfort and economy, and she smoked her cob-pipe as did those
+other ladies of Lincoln County who had married into far less
+exalted stations than her own.  He put these simple survivals
+down to her native goodness of heart, which would not allow of
+her succumbing to mere pride and vainglory, for he no more
+doubted their narrative than they, doubted it themselves, which
+was not at all.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE JUDGE SEES A GHOST
+
+
+Charley Norton's good offices did not end when he had furnished
+judge Price with a house, for Betty required of him that he
+should supply that gentleman with legal business as well.  When
+she pointed out the necessity of this, Norton demurred.  He had
+no very urgent need of a lawyer, and had the need existed, Slocum
+Price would not have been his choice.  Betty knit her brows.
+
+"He must have a chance; perhaps if people knew you employed him
+it would give them confidence--you must realize this, Charley; it
+isn't enough that he has a house--he can't wear it nor eat it!"
+
+"And fortunately he can't drink it, either.  I don't want to
+discourage you, but his looks are all against him, Betty.  If you
+take too great an interest in his concerns I am afraid you are
+going to have him permanently on your hands."
+
+"Haven't you some little scrap of business that really doesn't
+matter much, Charley?  You might try him--just to please me--"
+she persisted coaxingly.
+
+"Well, there's land I'm buying--I suppose I could get him to look
+up the title, I know it's all right anyhow," said Norton, after a
+pause.
+
+Thus it happened that judge Price, before he had been three days
+in Raleigh, received a civil note from Mr. Norton asking him to
+search the title to a certain timber tract held by one Joseph
+Quaid; a communication the effect of which was out of all
+proportion to the size of the fee involved.  The judge,
+powerfully excited, told Mahaffy he was being understood and
+appreciated; that the tide of prosperity was clearly setting his
+way; that intelligent foresight, not chance, had determined him
+when he selected Raleigh instead of Memphis.  Thereafter he spoke
+of Charley Norton only as "My client," and exalted him for his
+breeding, wealth and position, refusing to admit that any man in
+the county was held in quite the same esteem.  All of which moved
+Mahaffy to flashes of grim sarcasm.
+
+The immediate result of Norton's communication had been to send
+the judge up the street to the courthouse.  He would show his
+client that he could be punctual and painstaking.  He should have
+his abstract of title without delay; moreover, he had in mind a
+scholarly effort entirely worthy of himself.  The dull facts
+should be illuminated with an occasional striking phrase.  He
+considered that it would doubtless be of interest to Mr. Norton,
+in this connection, to know something, too, of mediaeval land
+tenure, ancient Roman and modern English.  He proposed artfully
+to pander to his client's literary tastes--assuming that he had
+such tastes.  But above all, this abstract must be entirely
+explanatory of himself, since its final purpose was to remove
+whatever doubts his mere appearance might have bred in Mr.
+Norton's mind.
+
+"If my pocket could just be brought to stand the strain of new
+clothes before the next sitting of court, I might reasonably hope
+for a share of the pickings," thought the judge.
+
+Entering the court-house, he found himself in a narrow hall.  On
+his right was the jury-room, and on his left the county clerk's
+office, stuffy little holes, each lighted by a single window.
+Beyond, and occupying the full width of the building, was the
+court-room, with its hard, wooden benches and its staring white
+walls.  Advancing to the door, which stood open, the judge
+surveyed the room with the greatest possible satisfaction.  He
+could fancy it echoing to that eloquence of which he felt himself
+to be the master.  He would show the world, yet, what was in him,
+and especially Solomon Mahaffy, who clearly had not taken his
+measure.
+
+Turning away from the agreeable picture his mind had conjured up,
+he entered the county clerk's office.  He was already known to
+this official, whose name was Saul, and he now greeted him with a
+pleasant air of patronage.  Mr. Saul removed his feet from the
+top of his desk and motioned his visitor to a chair; at the same
+time he hospitably thrust forward a square box filled with
+sawdust.  It was plain he labored under the impression that the
+judge's call was of an unprofessional character.
+
+"A little matter of business brings me here, sir," began the
+judge, with a swelling chest and mellow accents.  "No, sir, I'll
+not be seated--another time I'll share your leisure if I may--now
+I am in some haste to look up a title for my client, Mr. Norton."
+
+"What Norton?" asked Mr. Saul, when he had somewhat recovered
+from the effect of this announcement.
+
+"Mr. Charles Norton, of Thicket Point," said the judge.
+
+"I reckon you mean that timber tract of old Joe Quaid's."  Mr.
+Saul viewed the judge's ruinous exterior with a glance of
+respectful awe, for clearly a man who could triumph over such a
+handicap must possess uncommon merit of some sort.  "So you're
+looking after Charley Norton's business for him, are  you?" he
+added.
+
+"He's a client of mine.  We have mutual friends, sir--I refer to
+Miss Malroy," the judge vouchsafed to explain.
+
+"You're naming our best people, sir, when you name the Malroys
+and the Nortons; they are pretty much in a class by themselves,"
+said Mr. Saul, whose awe of the judge was momentarily increasing.
+
+"I don't underestimate the value of a social endorsement, sir,
+but I've never stood on that," observed the judge.  "I've come
+amongst you unheralded, but I expect you to find me out.  Now,
+sir, if you'll be good enough, I'll glance at the record."
+
+Mr. Saul scrambled up out of the depths of his chair and exerted
+himself in the judge's behalf.
+
+"This is what you want, sir.  Better take the ledger to the
+window, the light in here ain't much."  He drew forward a chair
+as he spoke, and the judge, seating himself, began to polish his
+spectacles with great deliberation.  He felt that he had reached
+a crisis in his career, and was disposed to linger over the hope
+that was springing up in his heart.
+
+"How does the docket for the next term of court stand?" he
+inquired.
+
+"Pretty fair, sir," said Mr. Saul.
+
+"Any litigation of unusual interest in prospect?" The judge was
+fitting his glasses to the generous arch of his nose, a feature
+which nicely indexed its owner's habits.
+
+"No, sir, just the ordinary run of cases."
+
+"I hoped to hear you say different."
+
+"You've set on the bench, sir?" suggested Mr. Saul.
+
+"In one of the eastern counties, but my inclination has never
+been toward the judiciary.  My temperament, sir, is distinctly
+aggressive--and each one according to the gifts with which God
+has been graciously pleased to endow him!  I am frank to say,
+however, that my decisions have received their meed of praise
+from men thoroughly competent to speak on such matters."  He was
+turning the leaves of the ledger as he spoke.  Suddenly the
+movement of his hand was arrested.
+
+"Found it?" asked Mr. Saul.  But the judge gave him no answer;
+absorbed and aloof he was staring down at the open pages of the
+book.  "Found the entry?" repeated Mr. Saul.
+
+"Eh?--what's that?  No--" he appeared to hesitate.  "Who is this
+man Quintard?"  The question cost him an effort, that was plain.
+
+"He's the owner of a hundred-thousand-acre tract in this and
+abutting counties," said Mr. Saul.
+
+The judge continued to stare down at the page.
+
+"Is he a resident of the county?" he asked, at length.
+
+"No, he lives back yonder in North Carolina."
+
+"A hundred thousand acres!" the judge muttered thoughtfully.
+
+"There or thereabouts--yes, sir."
+
+"Who has charge of the land?"
+
+"Colonel Fentress; he was old General Ware's law partner.  I've
+heard it was the general who got this man Quintard to make the
+investment, but that was before my time in these parts."
+
+The judge lapsed into a heavy, brooding silence.
+
+A step sounded in the narrow hall.  An instant later the door was
+pushed open, and grateful for any interruption that would serve
+to take Mr. Saul's attention from himself, the judge abruptly
+turned his back on the clerk and began to examine the record
+before him.  Engrossed in this, he was at first scarcely aware of
+the conversation that was being carried on within a few feet of
+him.  Insensibly, however, the cold, level tones of the voice
+that was addressing itself to Mr. Saul quickened the beat of his
+pulse, the throb of his heart, and struck back through the years
+to a day from which he reckoned time.  The heavy, calf-bound
+volume in his hand shook like a leaf in a gale.  He turned
+slowly, as if in dread of what he might see.
+
+What he saw was a man verging on sixty, lean and dark, with thin,
+shaven cheeks of a bluish cast above the jaw, and a strongly
+aquiline profile.  Long, black locks swept the collar of his
+coat, while his tall, spare figure was habited in sleek
+broadcloth and spotless linen.  For a moment the judge seemed to
+struggle with doubt and uncertainty, then his face went a ghastly
+white and the book slipped from his nerveless fingers to the
+window ledge.
+
+The stranger, his business concluded, swung about on his heel and
+quitted the office.  The judge, his eyes starting from their
+sockets, stared after him; the very breath died on his lips;
+speechless and motionless, he was still seeing that tall, spare
+figure as it had passed before him, but his memories stripped a
+weight of thirty years from those thin shoulders.  At last,
+heavy-eyed and somber, he glanced about him.  Mr. Saul, bending
+above his desk, was making an entry in one of his ledgers.  The
+judge shuffled to his side.
+
+"Who was that man?" he asked thickly, resting a shaking hand on
+the clerk's arm.
+
+"That?--Oh, that was Colonel Fentress I was just telling you
+about."  He looked up from his writing.  "Hello!  You look like
+you'd seen a ghost!"
+
+"It's the heat in here--I reckon--" said the judge, and began to
+mop his face.
+
+"Ever seen the colonel before?" asked Mr. Saul curiously.
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"Well, sir, he's one of our leading planters, and a mighty fine
+lawyer."
+
+"Has he always lived here?"
+
+"No, he came into the county about ten years ago, and bought a
+place called The Oaks, over toward the river."
+
+"Has he--has he a family?"  The judge appeared to be having
+difficulty with his speech.
+
+"Not that anybody knows of.  Some say he's a widower, others
+again say he's an old bachelor; but he don't say nothing, for the
+colonel is as close as wax about his own affairs.  So it's pure
+conjecture, sir."  There was a brief silence.  "The county has
+its conundrums, and the colonel's one of them," resumed Mr. Saul.
+
+"Yes?" said the judge.
+
+"The colonel's got his friends, to be sure, but he don't mix much
+with the real quality."
+
+"Why not?" asked the judge.
+
+"He's apparently as high-toned a gentleman as you'd meet with
+anywhere; polished, sir, so smooth your fingers would slip if you
+tried to take hold of him, but it's been commented on that when a
+horsethief or counterfeiter gets into trouble the colonel's
+always first choice for counsel."
+
+"Get's 'em off, does he?"  The judge spoke somewhat grimly.
+
+"Mighty nigh always.  But then he has most astonishing luck in
+the matter of witnesses.  That's been commented on too."  The
+judge nodded comprehendingly.  "I reckon you'd call Tom Ware, out
+at Belle Plain, one of Fentress' closest friends.  He's another
+of your conundrums.  I wouldn't advise you to be too curious
+about the colonel."
+
+"Why not?" The judge was frowning now.
+
+"It will make you unpopular with a certain class.  Those of us
+who've been here long enough have learned that there are some of
+these conundrums we'd best not ask an answer for."
+
+The judge pondered this.
+
+"Do you mean to tell me, sir, that freedom of speech is not
+allowed?" he demanded, with some show of heat.
+
+"Perfect freedom, if you pick and choose your topic," responded
+Mr. Saul.
+
+"Humph!" ejaculated the judge.
+
+"Now you might talk to me with all the freedom you like, but I'd
+recommend you were cautious with strangers.  There have been
+those who've talked freely that have been advised to keep still
+or harm would come of it."
+
+"And did harm come of it?" asked the judge.
+
+"They always kept still."
+
+"What do you mean by talking freely?"
+
+"Like asking how so and so got the money to buy his last batch of
+niggers," explained Mr. Saul rather vaguely.
+
+"And Colonel Fentress is one of those about whose affairs it is
+best not to show too much curiosity?"
+
+"He is, decidedly.  His friends appear to set a heap by him.
+Another of his particular intimates is a gentleman by the name of
+Murrell."
+
+The judge nodded.
+
+"I've met him," he said briefly.  "Does he belong hereabouts?"
+
+"No, hardly; he seems to hold a sort of roving commission.  His
+home is, I believe, near Denmark, in Madison County."
+
+"What's his antecedents?"
+
+"He's as common a white man as ever came out of the hills, but he
+appears to stand well with Colonel Fentress."
+
+"Colonel Fentress!" The judge spat in sheer disgust.
+
+"You don't appear to fancy the colonel--" said Mr. Saul.
+
+"I don't fancy wearing a gag--and damned if I do!" cried the
+judge.
+
+"Oh, it ain't that exactly; it's just minding your own business.
+I reckon you'll find there's lot's to be said in favor of goin'
+ca'mly on attending strictly to your own affairs, sir," concluded
+Mr. Saul.
+
+Acting on a sudden impulse, the judge turned to the door.  The
+business and the hope that had brought him there were forgotten.
+He muttered something about returning later, and hastily quitted
+the office.
+
+"Well, I reckon he's a conundrum too!" reflected Mr. Saul, as the
+door swung shut.
+
+In the hall the judge's steps dragged and his head was bowed.  He
+was busy with his memories, memories that spanned the desolate
+waste of years in which he had walked from shame to shame, each
+blacker than the last.  Then passion shook him.
+
+"Damn him--may God-for ever damn him 1" he cried under his
+breath, in a fierce whisper.
+A burning mist before his eyes, he shuffled down the hall, down
+the steps, and into the shaded, trampled space that was known as
+the court-house yard.  Here he paused irresolutely.  Across the
+way was the gun-maker's shop, the weather-beaten sign came within
+range of his vision, and the dingy white letters on their black
+ground spelled themselves out.  The words seemed to carry some
+message, for the judge, with his eyes fixed on the sign as on
+some beacon of hope, plunged across the dusty road and entered
+the shop.
+
+
+At supper that night it was plain to both Mr. Mahaffy and
+Hannibal that the judge was in a state of mind best described as
+beatific.  The tenderest consideration, the gentlest courtesy
+flowed from him as from an unfailing spring; not that he was
+ever, even in his darkest hours, socially remiss, but there was
+now a special magnificence to his manner that bred suspicion in
+Mahaffy's soul.  When he noted that the judge's shoes were
+extremely dusty, this suspicion shaped itself definitely.  He was
+convinced that on the strength of his prospective fee the judge
+had gone to Belle Plain, for what purpose Mr. Mahaffy knew only
+too well.
+
+"It took you some time to get up that abstract, didn't it,
+Price?" he presently said, with artful indirection.
+
+"I shall go on with that in the morning, Solomon; my interest was
+dissipated this evening," rejoined the judge.
+
+"Looks as though you had devoted a good part of your time to
+pedestrianism," suggested Mahaffy.
+
+"Quite right, so I did, Solomon."
+
+"Were you at Belle Plain?" demanded Mahaffy harshly and with a
+black scowl.  The judge had agreed to keep away from Belle Plain.
+
+"No, Solomon, you forget our pact."
+
+"Well, I am glad you remembered it."
+
+They finished supper, the dishes were cleared away and the
+candles lighted, when the judge produced a mysterious
+leather-covered case.  This he placed upon the table and opened,
+and Mahaffy and Hannibal, who had drawn near, saw with much
+astonishment that it held a handsome pair of dueling pistols,
+together with all their necessary paraphernalia.
+
+"Where did you get 'em, Judge?--Oh, ain't they beautiful!" cried
+Hannibal, circling about the table in his excitement.
+
+"My dear lad, they were purchased only a few hours ago," said the
+judge quietly, as he began to load them.
+
+"For Heaven's sake, Price, do be careful!" warned Mahaffy, who
+had a horror of pistols that extended to no other species of
+firearm.
+
+"I shall observe all proper caution, Solomon," the judge assured
+him sweetly.
+
+"Judge, may I try 'em some day?" asked Hannibal.
+
+"Yes, my boy, that's part of a gentleman's education."
+
+"Well, look out you don't shoot him before his education begins,"
+snapped Mahaffy.
+
+"Where did you buy 'em?" Hannibal was dodging about the judge,
+the better to follow the operation of loading.
+
+"At the gunsmith's, dear lad.  It occurred to me that we required
+small arms.  If you'll stand quietly at my elbow and not hop
+around, you'll relieve Mr. Mahaffy's apprehension."
+
+"I declare, Price, you need a guardian, if ever a man did!" cried
+Mahaffy, in a tone of utter exasperation.
+
+"Why, Solomon?"
+
+"Why?--they are absolutely useless.  It was a waste of good money
+that you'll be sorry about."
+
+"Bless you, Solomon--they ain't paid for!" said the judge, with a
+thick little chuckle.
+
+"I didn't do you the injustice to suppose they were; but you
+haven't any head for business; aren't you just that much nearer
+the time when not a soul here will trust you?  That's just like
+you, to plunge ahead and use up your credit on gimcracks!"
+Mahaffy prided himself on his acquaintance with the basic
+principles of economics.
+
+"I can sell 'em again," observed the judge placidly.
+
+"For less than half what they are worth!--I never knew so poor a
+manager!"
+
+The pistols were soon loaded, and the judge turned to Hannibal.
+"I regretted that you were not with me out at Boggs' this
+evening, Hannibal; you would have enjoyed seeing me try these
+weapons there.  Now carry a candle into the kitchen and place it
+on the table."
+
+Mahaffy laughed contemptuously, but was relieved to know the
+purpose to which the judge had devoted the afternoon.
+
+"What aspersion is rankling for utterance within you now,
+Solomon?" said the judge tolerantly.  Assuming a position that
+gave him an unobstructed view across the two rooms, he raised the
+pistol in his hand and discharged it in that brief instant when
+he caught the candle's flame between the notches of the sight,
+but he failed to snuff the candle, and a look of bitter
+disappointment passed over his face.  He picked up the other
+pistol.  "This time--" he muttered under his breath.
+
+"Try blowing it out try the snuffers!" jeered Mahaffy.
+
+"This time!" repeated the judge, unheeding him, and as the
+pistol-shot rang out the light vanished.  "By Heaven, I did it!"
+roared the judge, giving way to an uncontrollable burst of
+feeling.  "I did it--and I can 'do it again--light the candle,
+Hannibal!"
+
+He began to load the pistols afresh with feverish haste, and
+Mahaffy, staring at him in amazement, saw that of a sudden the
+sweat was dripping from him.  But the judge's excitement
+prevented his attempting another shot at once, twice his hand was
+raised, twice it was lowered, the third time the pistol cracked
+and the candle's flame was blown level, fluttered for a brief
+instant, and went out.
+
+"Did I nick the tallow, Hannibal?" The judge spoke anxiously.
+
+"Yes, sir, both shots."
+
+"We must remedy that," said the judge.  Then, as rapidly as he
+could load and fire, bullet after bullet was sent fairly through
+the flame, extinguishing it each time.  Mahaffy was too
+astonished at this display of skill even to comment, while
+Hannibal's delight knew no bounds.  "That will do!" said the
+judge at last.  He glanced down at the pistol in his hand.  "This
+is certainly a gentleman's weapon!" he murmured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE WARNING
+
+
+Norton had ridden down to Belle Plain ostensibly to view certain
+of those improvements that went so far toward embittering Tom
+Ware's existence.  Gossip had it that he kept the road hot
+between the two places, and this was an added strain on the
+planter.  But Norton did not go to Belle Plain to see Mr. Ware.
+If that gentleman had been the sole attraction, he would have
+made just one visit suffice; had it preceded his own, he would
+have attended Tom's funeral, and considered that he had done a
+very decent thing.  On the present occasion he and Betty were
+strolling about the rehabilitated grounds, and Norton was
+exhibiting that interest and enthusiasm which Betty always
+expected of him.
+
+"You are certainly making the old place look up!" he said, as
+they passed out upon the terrace.  He had noted casually when he
+rode up the lane half an hour before that a horse was tied near
+Ware's office; a man now issued from the building and swung
+himself into the saddle.  Norton turned abruptly to Betty.
+"What's that fellow doing here?" he asked.
+
+"I suppose he comes to see Tom," said Betty.
+
+"Is he here often?"
+
+"Every day or so." Betty's tone was indifferent.  For reasons
+which had seemed good and sufficient she had never discussed
+Captain Murrell with Norton.
+
+"Every day or so?" repeated Norton.  "But you don't see him,
+Betty?"
+
+"No, of course I don't."
+
+"Tom has no business allowing that fellow around; if he don't
+know this some one ought to tell him!"  Norton was working
+himself up into a fine rage.
+
+"He doesn't bother me, Charley, if that's what you're thinking
+of.  Let's talk of something else."
+
+"He'd better not, or I'll make it a quarrel with him."
+
+"Oh, you mustn't think of that, Charley, indeed you mustn't!"
+cried Betty in some alarm, for young Mr. Norton was both
+impulsive and hot-headed.
+
+"Well, just how often is Murrell here?" he demanded.
+
+"I told you--every few days.  He and Tom seem wonderfully
+congenial."
+
+They were silent for a moment.
+
+"Tom always sees him in his office," explained Betty.  She might
+have made her explanation fuller on this point had she cared to
+do so.
+
+"That's the first decent thing I ever heard of Tom!" said Norton
+with warmth.  "But he ought to kick him off the place the first
+chance he gets."
+
+"Do you think Belle Plain is ever going to look as it did,
+Charley?--as we remember it when we were children?" asked Betty,
+giving a new direction to the conversation.
+
+"Why, of course it is, dear, you are doing wonders!"
+
+"I've really been ashamed of the place, the way it looked--and I
+can't understand Tom!"
+
+"Don't try to," advised Norton.  "Look here, Betty, do you
+remember it was right on this terrace I met you for the first
+time?  My mother brought me down, and I arrived with a strong
+prejudice against you, young lady, because of the clothes I'd
+been put into--they were fine but oppressive."
+
+"How long did the prejudice last, Charley?"
+
+"It didn't last at a11, I thought you altogether the nicest
+little girl I'd ever seen--just what I think now, I wish you
+could care for me, Betty, just a little; just enough to marry
+me."
+
+"But, Charley, I do care for you!  I'm very, very fond of you."
+
+"Well, don't make such a merit of it," he said, and they both
+laughed.  "I'm at an awful disadvantage, Betty, from having
+proposed so often.  That gives it a humorous touch which doesn't
+properly reflect the state of my feeling at all--and you hear me
+without the least emotion; so long as I keep my distance we might
+just as well be discussing the weather!"
+
+"You are very good about that--"
+
+"Keeping my distance, you mean?--Betty, if you knew how much
+resolution that calls for!  I wonder if that isn't my mistake--"
+And Norton came a step nearer and took her in his arms.
+
+With her hands on his shoulders Betty pushed him back, while the
+rich color came into her cheeks.  She was remembering Bruce
+Carrington, who had not kept his distance.
+
+"Please, Charley," she said half angrily, "I do like you
+tremendously, but I simply can't bear you when you act like this
+--let me got"
+
+"Betty, I despair of you ever caring for me!" and as Norton
+turned abruptly away he saw Tom Ware appear from about a corner
+of the house.  "Oh, hang it, there's Tom!"
+
+"You are very nice, anyway, Charley--" said Betty hurriedly,
+fortified by the planter's approach.
+
+Ware stalked toward them.  Having dined with Betty as recently as
+the day before, he contented himself with a nod in her direction.
+His greeting to Norton was a more ambitious undertaking; he said
+he was pleased to see him; but in so far as facial expression
+might have indorsed the statement this pleasure was well
+disguised, it did not get into his features.  Pausing on the
+terrace beside them, he indulged in certain observations on the
+state of the crops and the weather.
+
+"You've lost a couple of niggers, I hear?" he added with an
+oblique glance.
+
+"Yes," said Norton.
+
+"Got on the track of them yet?" Norton shook his head.  "I
+understand you've a new overseer?" continued Ware, with another
+oblique glance.
+
+"Then you understand wrong--Carrington's my guest," said Norton.
+"He's talking of putting in a crop for himself next season, so
+he's willing to help me make mine."
+
+Betty turned quickly at the mention of Carrington's name.  She
+had known that he was still at Thicket Point, and having heard
+him spoken of as Norton's new overseer, had meant to ask Charley
+if he were really filling that position.  An undefined sense of
+relief came to her with Norton's reply to Tom's question.
+
+"Going to turn farmer, is he?" asked Ware.
+
+"So he says."  Feeling that the only subjects in which he had
+ever known Ware to take the slightest interest, namely, crops and
+slaves, were exhausted, Norton was extremely disappointed when
+the planter manifested a disposition to play the host and
+returned to the house with them, where his mere presence,
+forbidding and sullen, was such a hardship that Norton shortly
+took his leave.
+
+"Well, hang Tom!" he said, as he rode away from Belle Plain.  "If
+he thinks he can freeze me out there's a long siege ahead of
+him!"
+
+Issuing from the lane he turned his face in the direction of
+home, but he did not urge his horse off a walk.  To leave Belle
+Plain and Betty demanded always his utmost resolution.  His way
+took him into the solemn twilight of untouched solitudes.  A cool
+breath rippled through the depths of the woods and shaped its own
+soft harmonies where it lifted the great branches that arched the
+road.  He crossed strips of bottom land where the water stood in
+still pools about the gnarled and moss-covered trunks of trees.
+At intervals down some sluggish inlet he caught sight of the
+yellow flood that was pouring past, or saw the Arkansas coast
+beyond, with its mighty sweep of unbroken forest that rose out of
+the river mists and blended with the gray distance that lay along
+the horizon.
+
+He was within two miles of Thicket Point when, passing about a
+sudden turn in the road, he found himself confronted by three
+men, and before he could gather up his reins which he held
+loosely, one of them had seized his horse by the bit.  Norton was
+unarmed, he had not even a riding-whip.  This being the case he
+prepared to make the best of an unpleasant situation which he
+felt he could not alter.  He ran his eye over the three men.
+
+"I am sorry, gentlemen, but I reckon you have hold of the wrong
+person--"
+
+"Get down!" said one of the men briefly.
+
+"I haven't any money, that's why I say you have hold of the wrong
+person."
+
+"We don't want your money."  The unexpectedness of this reply
+somewhat disturbed Norton.
+
+"What do you want, then?" he asked.
+
+"We got a word to say to you."
+
+"I can hear it in the saddle."
+
+"Get down!" repeated the man, a surly, bull-necked fellow.
+"Come--hurry up!" he added.
+
+Norton hesitated for an instant, then swung himself out of the
+saddle and stood in the road confronting the spokesman of the
+party.
+
+"Now, what do you wish to say to me?" he asked.
+
+"Just this--you keep away from Belle Plain."
+
+"You go to hell!" said Norton promptly.  The man glowered heavily
+at hire through the gathering gloom of twilight.
+
+"We want your word that you'll keep away from Belle Plain," he
+said with sullen insistence.
+
+"Well, you won't get it!" responded Norton with quiet decision.
+
+"We won't?"
+
+"Certainly you won't!"  Norton's eyes began to flash.  He
+wondered if these were Tom Ware's emissaries.  He was both
+quick-tempered and high-spirited.  Falling back a step, he sprang
+forward and dealt the bullnecked man a savage blow.  The latter
+grunted heavily but kept his feet.  In the same instant one of
+the men who had never taken his eyes off Norton from the moment
+he quitted the saddle, raised his fist and struck the young
+planter in the back of the neck.
+
+"You cur!" cried Norton, blind and dizzy, as he wheeled on him.
+
+"Damn him--let him have it!" roared the bullnecked man.
+
+Afterward Norton was able to remember that the three rushed on
+him, that he was knocked down and kicked with merciless
+brutality, then consciousness left him.  He lay very still in the
+trampled dust of the road.  The bull-necked man regarded the limp
+figure in grim silence for a moment.
+
+"That'll do, he's had enough; we ain't to kill him this time," he
+said.  An instant later he, with his two companions, had vanished
+silently into the woods.
+
+Norton's horse trotted down the road.  When it entered the yard
+at Thicket Point half an hour later, Carrington was on the porch.
+
+"Is that you, Norton?" he called, but there was no response, and
+he saw the horse was riderless.  "Jeff!" he cried, summoning
+Norton's servant from the house.
+
+"What's the matter, Mas'r?" asked the negro, as he appeared in
+the open door.
+
+"Why, here's Mr. Norton's horse come home without him.  Do you
+know where he went this afternoon?"
+
+"I heard him say he reckoned he'd ride over to Belle Plain,
+Mas'r," answered Jeff, grinning.  "I 'low the hoss done broke
+away and come home by himself--he couldn't a-throwed Mas'r
+Charley!"
+
+"We'll make sure of that.  Get lanterns, and a couple of the
+boys!" said Carrington.
+
+It was mid-afternoon of the day following before Betty heard of
+the attack on Charley Norton.  Tom brought the news, and she at
+once ordered her horse saddled and was soon out on the river road
+with a black groom trailing along through the dust in her wake.
+Tom's version of the attack was that Charley, had been robbed and
+all but murdered, and Betty never drew rein until she reached
+Thicket Point.  As she galloped into the yard Bruce Carrington
+came from the house.  At sight of the girl, with her wind-blown
+halo of bright hair, he paused uncertainly.  By a gesture Betty
+called him to her side.
+
+"How is Mr. Norton?" she asked, extending her hand.
+
+"The doctor says he'll be up and about inside of a week, anyhow,
+Miss Malroy," said Carrington.
+
+Betty gave a great sigh of relief.
+
+"Then his hurts are not serious?"
+
+"No," said Carrington, "they are not in any sense serious."
+
+"May I see him?"
+
+"He's pretty well bandaged up, so he looks worse off than he is.
+If you'll wait on the porch, I'll tell him you are here," for
+Betty had dismounted.
+
+"If you please."
+
+Carrington passed on into the house.  His face wore a look of
+somber repression.  Of course it was all right for her to come
+and see Norton--they were old, old friends.  He entered the room
+where Norton lay.
+
+"Miss Malroy is here," he said shortly.
+
+"Betty?--bless her dear heart!" cried Charley rather weakly.
+"Just toss my clothes into the closet and draw up a chair . . .
+There-thank you, Bruce, that will do--let her come along in now."
+And as Carrington quitted the room, Norton drew himself up on the
+pillows and faced the door.  "This is worth several beatings,
+Betty!" he exclaimed as she appeared on the threshold.  But much
+cotton and many bandages lent him a rather fearful aspect, and
+Betty paused with a little gasp of dismay.  "I'm lots better than
+I look, I expect," said Norton.  "Couldn't you arrange to come a
+little closer?" he added, laughing.
+
+He bent to kiss the hand she gave him, but groaned with the
+exertion.  Then he looked up into her face and saw her eyes
+swimming with tears.
+
+"What--tears?  Tears for me, Betty?" and he was much moved.
+
+"It's a perfect outrage!  Who did it, Charley?" she asked.
+
+"You sit down and I'll tell you all about it," said Norton
+happily.
+
+"Now tell me, Charley!" when she had seated her.  self.
+
+"Who fetched you, Betty--old Tom?"
+
+"No, I came alone."
+
+"Well, it's mighty kind of you.  I'll be all right in a day or
+so.  What did you hear?--that I'd been attacked and half-killed?"
+
+"Yes--and robbed."
+
+"There were three of the scoundrels.  They made me climb out of
+the saddle, and as I was unarmed they did as they pleased with
+me, which was to stamp me flat in the road--"
+
+"Charley!"
+
+"I might almost be inclined to think they were friends of yours,
+Betty--or at least friends of friends of yours."
+
+"What do you mean, Charley--friends of mine?"
+
+"Well, you see they started in by stipulating that I should keep
+away from Belle Plain, and the terms they proposed being on the
+face of them preposterous, trouble quickly ensued--trouble for
+me, you understand.  But never mind, dear, the next man who
+undertakes to grab my horse by the bit won't get off quite so
+easy."
+
+"Why should any one care whether you come to Belle Plain or not?"
+
+"I wonder if my amiable friend, Tom, could have arranged this
+little affair; it's sort of like old Tom to move in the dark,
+isn't it?"
+
+"He couldn't--he wouldn't have done it, Charley!" but she looked
+troubled, not too sure of this.
+
+"Couldn't he?  Well, maybe he couldn't--but he's afraid you'll
+marry me--and I'm only afraid you won't.  Betty, hasn't it ever
+seemed worth your while to marry me just to give old Tom the
+scare of his life?"
+
+"Please, Charley--" she began.
+
+"I'm in a dreadful state of mind when I think of you alone at
+Belle Plain--I wish you could love me, Betty!"
+
+"I do love you.  There is no one I care half so much for,
+Charley."
+
+Norton shook his bandaged head and heaved a prodigious sigh.
+
+"That's merely saying you don't love any one."  He dropped back
+rather wearily on his pillow.  "Does Tom know about this?" he
+added.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Was he able to show a proper amount of surprise?"
+
+"He appeared really shocked, Charley."
+
+"Well, then, it wasn't Tom.  He never shows much emotion, but
+what he does show he usually feels, I've noticed.  I had rather
+hoped it was Tom, I'd be glad to think that he was responsible;
+for if it wasn't Tom, who was it?--who is it to whom it makes any
+difference how often I see you?"
+
+"I don't know, Charley;" but her voice was uncertain.
+
+"Look here, Betty; for the hundredth time, won't you marry me?
+I've loved you ever since I was old enough to know what love
+meant.  You've been awfully sweet and patient with me, and I've
+tried to respect your wishes and not speak of this except when it
+seemed necessary--" he paused, and they both laughed a little,
+but he looked weak and helpless with his bloodless face showing
+between the gaps in the bandages that swathed him.  Perhaps it
+was this sense of his helplessness that roused a feeling in Betty
+that was new to her.
+
+"You see, Charley, I fear--I am sure I don't love you the way I
+should--to marry you--"
+
+Charley, greatly excited, groaned and sat up, and groaned again.
+
+"Oh, please, Charley-lie still!" she entreated.
+
+"That's all right--and you needn't pull your hand away--you like
+me better than any one else, you've told me so; well, don't you
+see that's the beginning of really loving me?"
+
+"But you wouldn't want to marry me at once?"
+
+"Yes I would--right away--as soon as I am able to stir around!"
+said Charley promptly.  "Don't you see the immediate necessity
+there is of my being in a position to care for you, Betty?  I
+wasn't served this trick for nothing."
+
+"You must try not to worry, Charley."
+
+"But I shall--I expect it's going to retard my recovery," said
+the young man gloomily.  "I couldn't be worse off!  Here I am
+flat on my back; I can't come to you or keep watch over you.  Let
+me have some hope, dear--let me believe that you will marry me!"
+
+She looked at him pityingly, and with a certain latent tenderness
+in her mood.
+
+"Do you really care so much for me, Charley?"
+
+"I love you, Betty!--I want you to say you will marry me as soon
+as I can stand by your side--you're not going?--I won't speak of
+this again if it annoys you, dear!" for she had risen.
+
+"I must, Charley--"
+
+"Oh, don't--well, then, if you will go, I want Carrington to ride
+back with you."
+
+"But I brought George with me--"
+
+"Yes, I know, but I want you to take Carrington--the Lord knows
+what we are coming to here in West Tennessee; I must have word
+that you reach home safe."
+
+"Very well, then, I'll ask Mr. Carrington.  Good-by, Charley,
+dear!"
+
+Norton seemed to summon all his fortitude.
+
+"You couldn't have done a kinder thing than come here, Betty; I
+can't begin to tell you how grateful I am--and as for my loving
+you--why, I'll just keep on doing that to the end.  I can see
+myself a bent, old man still pestering you with my attentions,
+and you a sweet, old lady with snow-white hair and pink cheeks,
+still obdurate--still saying no!  Oh, Lord, isn't it awful!"  He
+had lifted himself on his elbow, and now sank back on his pillow.
+
+Betty paused irresolutely.
+
+"Charley--"
+
+"Yes, dear?"
+
+"Can't you be happy without me?"
+
+"No,"
+
+"But you don't try to be!"
+
+"No use in my making any such foolish effort, I'd be doomed to
+failure."
+
+"Good-by, Charley--I really must go--"
+
+He looked up yearningly into her face, and yielding to a sudden
+impulse, she stooped and kissed him on the forehead, then she
+fled from the room.
+
+"Oh, come back--Betty--" cried Norton, and his voice rose to a
+wail of entreaty, but she was gone.  She had been quite as much
+surprised by her act as Charley himself.
+
+In the yard, Carrington was waiting for her.  Jeff had just
+brought up Norton's horse, and though he made no display of
+weapons, the Kentuckian had fully armed himself.
+
+"I am going to ride to Belle Plain with you, Miss Malroy," he
+said, as he lifted her into her saddle.
+
+"Do you think it necessary?" she asked, but she did not look at
+him.
+
+"I hope not.  I'll keep a bit in advance," he added, as he
+mounted his horse, and all Betty saw of him during their ride of
+five miles was his broad back.  At the entrance to Belle Plain he
+reined in his horse.
+
+"I reckon it's all right, now," he said briefly.
+
+"You will return at once to Mr. Norton?" she asked.  He nodded.
+"And you will not leave him while he is helpless?"
+
+"No, I'll not leave him," said Carrington, giving her a steady
+glance.
+
+"I am so glad, I--his friends will feel so much safer with you
+there.  I will send over in the morning to learn how he passed
+the night.  Good-by, Mr. Carrington."  And still refusing to meet
+his eyes, she gave him her hand.
+
+But Carrington did not quit the mouth of the lane until she had
+crossed between the great fields of waving corn, and he had seen
+her pass up the hillside beyond to the oak grove, where the four
+massive chimneys of Belle Plain house showed their gray stone
+copings among the foliage.  With this last glimpse of her he
+turned away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THICKET POINT
+
+
+It WAS a point with Mr. Ware to see just as little as possible of
+Betty.  He had no taste for what he called female chatter.  A
+sane interest in the price of cotton or pork he considered the
+only rational test of human intelligence, and Betty evinced
+entire indifference where those great staples were concerned,
+hence it was agreeable to him to have most of his meals served in
+his office.
+
+At first Betty had sought to adapt herself to his somewhat
+peculiar scheme of life, but Tom had begged her not to regard
+him, his movements from hour to hour were cloaked in uncertainty.
+The man who had to overlook the labor of eighty or ninety field
+hands was the worst sort of a slave himself; the niggers knew
+when they could sit down to a meal; he never did.
+
+But for all his avoidance of Betty, he in reality kept the
+closest kind of a watch on her movements, and when he learned
+that she had visited Charley Norton--George, the groom, was the
+channel through which this information reached him--he was both
+scandalized and disturbed.  He felt the situation demanded some
+sort of a protest.
+
+"Isn't it just hell the way a woman can worry you?" he lamented,
+as he hurried up the path from the barns to the house.  He found
+Betty at supper.
+
+"I thought I'd have a cup of tea with you, Bet--what else have
+you that's good?" he inquired genially, as he dropped into a
+chair.
+
+"That was nice of you; we don't see very much of each other, do
+we, Tom?" said Betty pleasantly.
+
+Mr. Ware twisted his features, on which middle age had rested an
+untender hand, into a smile.
+
+"When a man undertakes to manage a place like Belle Plain his
+work's laid out for him, Betty, and an old fellow like me is
+pretty apt to go one of two ways; either he takes to hard living
+to keep himself in trim, or he pampers himself soft."
+
+"But you aren't old, Tom!"
+
+"I wish I were sure of seeing forty-five or even forty-eight
+again--but I'm not," said Tom.
+
+"But that isn't really old," objected Betty.
+
+"Well, that's old enough, Bet, as you'll discover for yourself
+one of these days."
+
+"Mercy, Tom!" cried Betty.
+
+Mr. Ware consumed a cup of tea in silence.
+
+"You were over to see Norton, weren't you, Bet?  How did you find
+him?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"The doctor says he will soon be about again," answered Betty.
+
+Tom stroked his chin and gazed at her reflectively.
+
+"Betty, I wish you wouldn't go there again--that's a good girl!"
+he said tactfully, and as he conceived it, affectionately, even,
+paving the way for an exercise of whatever influence might be
+his, a point on which he had no very clear idea.  Betty glanced
+up quickly.
+
+"Why, Tom, why shouldn't I go there?" she demanded.
+
+"It might set people gossiping.  I reckon there's been pretty
+near enough talk about you and Charley Norton.  A young girl
+can't be too careful."  The planter's tone was conciliatory in
+the extreme, he dared not risk a break by any open show of
+authority.
+
+"You needn't distress yourself, Tom.  I don't know that I shall
+go there again," said Betty indifferently.
+
+"I wouldn't if I were you."  He was charmed to find her so
+reasonable.  "You know it isn't the thing for a young girl to
+call on a man, you'll get yourself talked about in a way you
+won't like--take my word for it!  If you want to be kind and
+neighborly send one of the boys over to ask how he is--or bake a
+cake with your own hands, but you keep away.  That's the idea!
+--send him something to eat, something you've made yourself,
+he'll appreciate that."
+
+"I'm afraid he couldn't eat it if I did, Tom.  It's plain you
+have no acquaintance with my cooking," said Betty, laughing.
+
+"Did Norton say if he had any idea as to the identity of the men
+who robbed him?" inquired Tom casually.
+
+"Their object wasn't robbery," said Betty.
+
+"No?" Ware's glance was uneasy.
+
+"It seems that some one objects to his coming here, Tom--here to
+Belle Plain to see me, I suppose," added Betty.  The planter
+moved uncomfortably in his seat, refusing to meet her eyes.
+
+"He shouldn't put out a yarn like that, Bet.  It isn't just the
+thing for a gentleman to do--"
+
+"He isn't putting it out, as you call it!  He has told no one, so
+far as I know," said Betty quickly.  Mr. Ware fell into a
+brooding silence.  "Of course, Charley wouldn't mention my name
+in any such connection!" continued Betty.
+
+"Who cares how often he comes here?  You don't, and I don't.
+There's more back of this than Charley would want you to know.  I
+reckon he's got his enemies; some one's had a grudge against him
+and taken this way to settle it."  The planter's tone and manner
+were charged with an unpleasant significance.
+
+"I don't like your hints, Tom," said Betty.  Her heightened color
+and the light in her eyes warned Tom that he had said enough.  In
+some haste he finished his second cup of tea, a beverage which he
+despised, and after a desultory remark or two, withdrew to his
+office.
+
+Betty went up-stairs to her own room, where she tried to finish a
+letter she had begun the day before to Judith Ferris, but she was
+in no mood for this.  She was owning to a sense of utter
+depression and she had been at home less than a month.  Struggle
+as she might against the feeling, it was borne in upon her that
+she was wretchedly lonely.  She had seated herself by an open
+window.  Now, resting her elbows on the ledge and with her chin
+between her palms, she gazed off into the still night.  A mile
+distant, on what was called "Shanty Hill," were the quarters of
+the slaves.  The only lights she saw were there, the only sounds
+she heard reached her across the intervening fields.  This was
+her world.  A half-savage world with its uncouth army of black
+dependents.
+
+Tom's words still rankled.  Betty's temper flared up
+belligerently as she recalled them.  He had evidently meant to
+insinuate that Charley had lied outright when he told her the
+motive for the attack, and he had followed it up by that covert
+slur on his character.  Charley's devotion was the thing that
+redeemed the dull monotony of existence.  She became suddenly
+humble and tenderly penitent in her mood toward him; he loved her
+much better than she deserved, and she suspected that her own
+attitude had been habitually ungenerous and selfish.  She had
+accepted all and yielded nothing.  She wondered gravely why it
+was she did not love him; she was fond of him--she was very, very
+fond of him; she wondered if after all, as he said, this were not
+the beginning of love, the beginning of that deeper feeling which
+she was not sure she understood, not sure she should ever
+experience.
+
+The thought of Charley's unwavering affection gave her a great
+sense of peace; it was something to have inspired such devotion,
+she could never be quite desperate while she had him.  She must
+try to make him understand how possible an ideal friendship was
+between them, how utterly impossible anything else.  She would
+like to have seen Charley happily married to some nice girl--
+"I wonder whom!" thought Betty, gazing deep into the night
+through her drooping lashes.  She considered possible candidates
+for the happiness she herself seemed so willing to forego, but
+for one reason or another dismissed them all.  "I am not sure I
+should care to see him marry," she confessed under her breath.
+"It would spoil everything.  Men are much nicer than girls!"  And
+Charley possessed distinguished merits as a man; he was not to be
+too hastily disposed of, even for his own good.  She viewed him
+in his various aspects, his character and disposition came under
+her critical survey.  Nature had given the young planter a
+handsome presence; wealth and position had come to him as
+fortuitously.  The first of these was no great matter, perhaps;
+Betty herself was sometimes burdened with a sense of possession,
+but family was indispensable.
+
+In theory, at least, she was a thoroughgoing little aristocrat.
+A gentleman was always a gentleman.  There were exceptions, like
+Tom, to be sure, but even Tom could have reached up and seized
+the title had he coveted it.  She rarely forgot that she was the
+mistress of Belle Plain and a Malroy.  Just wherein a Malroy
+differed from the rest of the sons of men she had never paused to
+consider, it sufficed that there was a hazy Malroy genealogy that
+went back to tidewater Virginia, and then if one were not meanly
+curious, and would skip a generation or two that could not be
+accounted for in ways any Malroy would accept, one might
+triumphantly follow the family to a red-roofed Sussex manor
+house.  Altogether, it was a highly satisfactory genealogy and it
+had Betty's entire faith.  The Nortons were every bit as good as
+the Malroys, which was saying a great deal.  Their history was
+quite as pretentious, quite as vague, and as hopelessly involved
+in the mists of tradition.
+
+Inexplicably enough, Betty found that her thoughts had wandered
+to Carrington; which was very singular, as she had long since
+formed a resolution not to think of him at all.  Yet she
+remembered with satisfaction his manner that afternoon, it left
+nothing to be desired.  He was probably understanding the
+impassable gulf that separated them--education, experience,
+feeling, everything that made up the substance of life but
+deepened and widened this gulf.  He belonged to that shifting,
+adventurous population which was far beneath the slave-holding
+aristocracy, at least he more nearly belonged to this lower order
+than to any other.  She fixed his status relentlessly as
+something to be remembered when they should meet again.  At last,
+with a little puckering of the brows and a firm contraction of
+the lips, she dismissed the Kentuckian from her thoughts.
+
+
+Betty complied with Tom's expressed wish, for she did not again
+visit Thicket Point, but then she had not intended doing so.
+However, the planter was greatly shocked by the discovery he
+presently made that she was engaged in a vigorous correspondence
+with Charley.
+
+"I wish to blazes Murrell had told those fellows to kick the life
+clean out of him while they were about it!" he commented
+savagely, and fell to cursing impotently.  Brute force was a
+factor to be introduced with caution into the affairs of life,
+but if you were going to use it, his belief was that you should
+use it to the limit.  You couldn't scare Norton, he was in love
+with that pink-faced little fool.  Keep away?--he'd never think
+of it, he'd stuff his pockets full of pistols and the next man
+who stopped him on the road would better look out!  It made him
+sick--the utter lack of sense manifested by Murrell, and his
+talk, whenever they met, was still of the girl.  He couldn't see
+anything so damn uncommon about that red-and-white chit.  She
+wasn't worth running your neck into a halter for--no woman that
+ever lived was worth that.
+
+The correspondence, so far as Betty was responsible for it, bore
+just on one point.  She wanted Charley to promise that for a
+time, at least, he would not attempt to see her.  It seemed such
+a needless risk to take, couldn't he be satisfied if he heard
+from her every day?
+
+Charley was regretful, but firm.  Just as soon as he could mount
+his horse he would ride down to Belle Plain.  She was not to
+distress herself on his account; he had been surprised, but this
+should not happen again.
+
+The calm manner in which he put aside her fears for his safety
+exasperated Betty beyond measure.  She scolded him vigorously.
+Charley accepted the scolding with humility, but his resolution
+was unshaken; he did not propose to vacate the public roads at
+any man's behest; that would be an unwise precedent to establish.
+
+Betty replied that this was not a matter in which silly vanity
+should enter, even if his life was of no value to himself it did
+not follow that she held it lightly.  It required some eight
+closely written pages for Charley to explain why existence would
+be an unsupportable burden if he were denied the sight of her.
+
+A week had intervened since the attack, and from Jeff, who always
+brought Charley's letters, Betty learned more of Charley's
+condition than Charley himself had seen fit to tell.  According
+to Jeff his master was now able to get around pretty tolerable
+well, though he had a powerful keen misery in his side.
+
+"That was whar' they done kicked him most, Miss," he added.
+Betty shuddered.
+
+"How much longer will he be confined to the house?" she asked.
+
+"I heard him 'low to Mas'r Carrington, Miss, as how he reckoned
+he'd take a hossback ride to-morrow evenin' if the black and blue
+was all come out of his features--"
+
+"Oh--" gasped Betty.
+
+"Seems like they was mighty careless whar' they put their feet,
+don't it, Miss?" said Jeff.
+
+It was this information she gleaned from Jeff that led Betty to
+desperate lengths, to the making of what her cooler judgment told
+her was a desperate bargain.
+
+At Thicket Point Charley Norton, greatly excited, .hobbled into
+the library in search of Carrington.  He found him reading by the
+open window.
+
+"Look here, Bruce!" he cried.  "It's settled; she's going to
+marry me!"
+
+The book slipped unheeded from Carrington's hand to the floor.
+For a moment he sat motionless, then he slowly pulled himself up
+out of his chair.
+
+"What's that?" he asked a trifle thickly.
+
+"Betty Malroy is going to marry me," said Norton.  Carrington
+gazed at him in silence.
+
+"It's settled, is it?" he asked at length.  He saw his own hopes
+go down in miserable wreck; they had been utterly futile from the
+first.  He had known all along that Norton loved her, the young
+planter had made no secret of it.  He had been less frank.
+
+"I swear you take it quietly enough," said Norton.
+
+"Do I?"
+
+"Can't you wish me joy?"
+
+Carrington held out his hand.
+
+"You are not going to take any risks now, you have too much to
+live for," he said haltingly.
+
+"No, I'm to keep away from Belle Plain," said Norton happily.
+"She insists on that; she says she won't even see me if I come
+there.  Everything is to be kept a secret; nothing's to be known
+until we are actually married; it's her wish--"
+
+"It's to be soon then?" Carrington asked, still haltingly.
+
+"Very soon."
+
+There was a brief silence.  Carrington, with face averted, looked
+from the window.
+
+"I am going to stay here as long as you need me," he presently
+said.  "She--Miss Malroy asked me to, and then I am going back to
+the river where I belong."
+
+Norton turned on him quickly.
+
+"You don't mean you've abandoned the notion of turning planter?"
+he demanded in surprise.
+
+"Well, yes.  What's the use of my trying my hand at a business I
+don't know the first thing about?"
+
+"I wouldn't be in too big a hurry to decide finally on that
+point," urged Norton.
+
+"It has decided itself," said Carrington quietly.
+
+But Norton was conscious of a subtle change in their relation.
+Carrington seemed a shade less frank than had been habitual with
+him; all at once he had removed his private affairs from the
+field of discussion.  Afterward, when Norton considered the
+matter, he wondered if it were not that the Kentuckian felt
+himself superfluous in this new situation that had grown up.
+
+Charley Norton's features recovered their accustomed hue, but he
+did not go near Belle Plain; with resolute fortitude he confined
+himself to his own acres.  He was tolerably familiar with certain
+engaging little peculiarities of Mr. Ware's; he knew, for
+instance, that the latter was a gentleman of excessively regular
+habits; once each fortnight, making an excuse of business, he
+spent a day in Memphis, neither more nor less.  Norton told
+himself with satisfaction that Tom was destined to return to the
+surprise of his life from the next of these trips.  This
+conviction was the one thing which sustained Charley for some ten
+days.  They were altogether the longest ten days he had ever
+known, and he had about reached the limit of his endurance when
+Betty's groom arrived with a letter which threw him into a state
+of ecstatic happiness.  The sober-minded Tom would devote the
+morrow to Memphis and business.  This meant that he would leave
+Belle Plain at sun-up and return after nightfall.
+
+"You may not like Tom, but you can always count on him," said
+Norton.  Then he ordered his horse and rode off in the direction
+of Raleigh, but before leaving the house, he scribbled a line or
+two to be handed Carrington, who had gone down to the nearest
+river landing.
+
+It was nightfall when the Kentuckian returned, Hearing his step
+in the hall, Jeff came from the dining-room, where he was laying
+the cloth for supper.
+
+"Mas'r Charley has rid to Raleigh, Sah," said he; "but he done
+lef' this fo' me to han' to yo"--extending the letter.
+
+Carrington took it.  He guessed its contents.  Breaking the seal
+he read the half dozen lines.
+
+"To-morrow--" he muttered under his breath, and slowly tore the
+sheet of note-paper into thin ribbons.  He turned to Jeff.  "Mr.
+Charley won't be home until late," he said.
+
+"Then I 'low yo' want yo' supper now, Sar?"  But Carrington shook
+his head.
+
+"No, you needn't bother, Jeff," he said, as he turned toward the
+stairs.
+
+Ten minutes later and he had got together his belongings and was
+ready to quit Thicket Point.  He retraced his steps to the floor
+below.  In the hall he paused and glanced about him.  He seemed
+to feel her presence--and very near--to-morrow she would enter
+there as Norton's wife.  With his pack under his arm he entered
+the dining-room in search of Jeff.
+
+"Tell your master I have gone to Memphis," he said briefly.
+
+"Ain't yo' goin' to have a hoss, Mas'r Carrington?" demanded Jeff
+in some surprise.  He had come to regard the Kentuckian as a
+fixture.
+
+"No," said Carrington.  "Good-by, Jeff," he added, turning away.
+
+But when he left Thicket Point he did not take the Memphis road,
+but the road to Belle Plain.  Walking rapidly, he reached the
+entrance to the lane within the hour.  Here he paused
+irresolutely, it was as if the force of his purpose had already
+spent itself.  Then he tossed his pack into a fence corner and
+kept on toward the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+AT THE CHURCH DOOR
+
+
+There was the patter of small feet beyond Betty's door, and
+little Steve, who looked more like a nice fat black Cupid than
+anything else, rapped softly; at the same time he effected to
+squint through the keyhole.
+
+"Supper served, Missy," he announced, then he turned no less than
+seven handsprings in the upper hall and slid down the balustrade
+to the floor below.  He was far from being a model house servant.
+
+His descent was witnessed by the butler.  Now in his own youth
+big Steve with as fair a field had cut similar capers, yet he was
+impelled by his sense of duty to do for his grandson what his own
+father had so often done for him, and in no perfunctory manner.
+It was only the sound of Betty's door opening and closing that
+stayed his hand as he was making choice of a soft and vulnerable
+spot to which he should apply it.  Little Steve slid under the
+outstretched arm that menaced him and fled to the dining-room.
+
+Betty came slowly down the stairs.  Four hours since Jeff had
+ridden away with the letter.  Already there had come to her
+moments when, she would have given much could she have recalled
+it, when she knew with dread certainty that whatever her feeling
+for Charley, it was not love; moments when she realized that she
+had been cruelly driven by circumstances into a situation that
+offered no escape.
+
+"Mas'r Tom he say he won't come in to supper, Missy; he 'low he's
+powerful busy, gittin' ready to go to Memphis in the mo'ning,"
+explained Steve, as he followed Betty into the dining-room.
+
+His mistress nodded indifferently as she seated herself at the
+table; she was glad to be alone just then; she was in no mood to
+carry on the usual sluggish conversation with Tom; her own
+thoughts absorbed hermore and more they became terrifying things
+to her.
+
+She ate her supper with big Steve standing behind her chair and
+little Steve balancing himself first on one foot and then on the
+other near the door.  Little Steve's head was on a level with the
+chair rail and but for the rolling whites of his eyes he was no
+more than a black shadow against the walnut wainscoting; he
+formed the connecting link between the dining-room and the remote
+kitchen.  Betty suspected that most of the platters journeyed
+down the long corridor deftly perched on top of his woolly head.
+She frequently detected him with greasy or sticky fingers, which
+while it argued a serious breach of trust also served to indicate
+his favorite dishes.  These two servitors were aware that their
+mistress was laboring under some unusual stress of emotion.  In
+its presence big Steven, who, with the slightest encouragement,
+became a medium through which the odds and ends of plantation
+gossip reached Betty's ears, held himself to silence; while
+little Steve ceased to shift his weight from foot to foot, the
+very dearth of speech fixed his attention.
+
+The long French windows, their curtains drawn, stood open.  All
+day a hot September sun had beaten upon the earth, but with the
+fall of twilight a soft wind had sprung up and the candles in
+their sconces flared at its touch.  It came out of wide solitudes
+laden with the familiar night sounds.  It gave Betty a sense of
+vast unused spaces, of Belle Plain clinging on the edge of an
+engulfing wilderness, of her own loneliness.  She needed Charley
+as much as he seemed to think he needed her.  The life she had
+been living had become suddenly impossible of continuance; that
+it had ever been possible was because of Charley; she knew this
+now as she had never known it before.
+
+Her thoughts dealt with the past.  In her one great grief, her
+mother's death, it had been Charley who had sustained and
+comforted her.  She was conscious of a choking sense of gratitude
+as she recalled his patient tenderness at that time, the sympathy
+and understanding he had shown; it was something never to be
+forgotten.
+
+Unrest presently sent her from the house.  She wandered down to
+the terrace.  Before her was the wide sweep of the swampy
+fore-shore, and beyond just beginning to silver in the moonlight,
+the bend of the river growing out of the black void.  With her
+eyes on the river and her hands clasped loosely she watched the
+distant line of the Arkansas coast grow up against the sky; she
+realized that the moon was rising on Betty Malroy for the last
+time.
+
+She liked Charley; she needed some one to take care of her and
+her belongings, and he needed her.  It was best for them both
+that she should marry him.  True she might have gone back to
+Judith Ferris; that would have been one solution of her
+difficulties.  Why hadn't she thought of doing this before?  Of
+course, Charley would have followed her East.  Charley met the
+ordinary duties and responsibilities of his position somewhat
+recklessly; it was only where she was concerned that he became
+patiently determined.
+
+"I suppose the end would have been the same there as here,"
+thought Betty.
+
+A moment later she found herself wondering if Charley had told
+Carrington yet; certainly the Kentuckian would not remain at
+Thicket Point when he knew.  She was sure she wished him to leave
+not Thicket Point merely, but the neighborhood.  She did not wish
+to see him again--not see him again--not see him again - She
+found herself repeating the words over and over; they shaped
+themselves into a dreadful refrain.  A nameless terror of the
+future swept in upon her.  She was cold and sick.  It was as
+though an icy hand was laid upon her heart.  The words ran on in
+endless repetition--not see him again--they held the very soul of
+tragedy for her, yet she was roused to passionate protest.  She
+must not think of him, he was nothing to her.  She was to be
+married to another man, even now she was almost a wife--but
+battle as she might the struggle went on.
+
+There was the sound of a step on the path.  Betty turned,
+supposing it to be Tom; but it was not Tom, it was Carrington
+himself who stood before her, his face haggard and drawn.  She
+uttered an involuntary exclamation and shrank away from him.
+Without a word he stepped to her side and took her hands rather
+roughly.
+
+For a moment there was silence between them, Betty stared up into
+his face with wide scared eyes, while he gazed down at her as if
+he would fasten something on his mind that must never be
+forgotten.  Suddenly he lifted her soft cold hands to his lips
+and kissed them passionately again and again; then he held them
+in his own against his cheek, his glance still fixed intently
+upon her; it held something of bitterness and reproach, but now
+she kept her eyes under their quivering lids from him.
+
+"What am I to do without you?"--his voice was almost a whisper.
+"What is this thing you have done?"  Betty's heart was beating
+with dull sickening throbs, but she dared not trust herself to
+answer him.  He took both her hands in one of his, and, slipping
+the other under her chin, raised her face so that he could look
+into her eyes; then he put his arm loosely about her, holding her
+hands against his breast.  "If I could have had one moment out of
+all the years for my own--only one.  I am glad you don't care,
+dear; it hurts when you reach the end of something that has been
+all your hope and filled all your days.  I have come to say
+good-by, Betty; this is the last time I shall see you.  I am
+going away."
+
+All in an instant Betty pressed close to him, hiding her face in
+his arm; she clung to him in a panic of pain and horror.  She
+felt something stir within her that had never been there before,
+as a storm of passionate longing swept through her.  Her words,
+her promise to another man, became as nothing.  All her pride was
+forgotten.  Without this man the days stretched away before her a
+blank.  His arm drew her closer still, until she felt her heart
+throb against his.
+
+"Do you care?" he said, and seemed to wonder that she should.
+
+"Bruce, Bruce, I didn't know--and now-- Oh, my dear, my dear--"
+He pressed his lips against the bright little head that rested in
+such miserable abandon against his shoulder.
+
+"Do you love me?" he whispered.  The blood ran riot in his veins.
+
+"Why have you stayed away--why didn't you come to me?  I have
+promised him--" she gasped.
+
+"I know," he said, and shut his lips.  There was another silence
+while she waited for him to speak.  She felt that she was at his
+mercy, that whether right or wrong, as he decided so it would be.
+At length he said.  "I thought it wasn't fair to him, and it
+seemed so hopeless after I came here.  I had nothing--and a man
+feels that--so I kept away."  He spoke awkwardly with something
+of the reserve that was habitual to him.
+
+"If you had only come!" she moaned.
+
+"I did--once," he muttered.
+
+"You didn't understand; why did you believe anything I said to
+you?  It was only that I cared--that in my heart I knew I cared
+--I've cared about you ever since that trip down the river, and now
+I am going to be married to-morrow--to-morrow, Bruce--do you
+realize I have given my promise?  I am to meet him at the Spring
+Bank church at ten o'clock--and it's tomorrow!" she cried, in a
+laboring choked voice.  For answer he drew her closer.  "Bruce,
+what can I do?--tell me what I can do."
+
+Carrington made an involuntary gesture of protest.
+
+"I can't tell you that, dear--for I don't know."  His voice was
+steady, but it came from lips that quivered.  He knew that he
+might have urged the supreme claim of his love and in her present
+desperate mood she would have listened, but the memory of Norton
+would have been between them always a shame and reproach; as
+surely as he stood there with his arms about her, as surely as
+she clung to him so warm and near, he would have lived to see the
+shadow of that shame in her eyes.
+
+"I can not do it--I can not, Bruce!" she panted.
+
+"Dear--dear--don't tempt me!"  He held himself in check.
+
+"I am going to tell you--just this once, BruceI love you--you are
+my own for this one moment out of my life!" and she abandoned
+herself to the passionate caressing with which he answered her.
+"How can I give you up?" he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.
+He put her from him almost roughly, and leaning against the trunk
+of a tree buried his face in his hands.  Betty watched him for a
+moment in wretched silence.
+
+"Don't feel so bad, Bruce," she said brokenly.  "I am not worth
+it.  I tried not to love you--I didn't want to."  She raised a
+white face to his.
+
+"I am going now, Betty.  You--you shouldn't stay here any longer
+with me." He spoke with sudden resolution.
+
+"And I shall not see you again?" she asked, in a low, stifled
+voice.
+
+"It's good-by--" he muttered.
+
+"Not yet--oh, not yet, Bruce--" she implored.  "I can not--"
+
+"Yes--now, dear.  I don't dare stay--I may forget--" but he
+turned again to her in entreaty.  "Give me something to remember
+in all the years that are coming when I shall be alone--let me
+kiss you on the lips--let me--just this once--it's good-by we're
+saying--it's good-by, Betty!"
+
+She went to him, and, as he bent above her, slipped her arms
+about his neck.
+
+"Kiss me--" she breathed.
+
+He kissed her hair, her soft cheek, then their lips met.
+
+He helped her as she stumbled blindly along the path to the
+house, and half lifted her up the steps to the door.  They paused
+there for a moment.  At last he turned from her abruptly in
+silence.  A step away he halted.
+
+"If you should ever need me--"
+"Never as now," she said.
+
+She saw his tall figure pass down the path, and her straining
+eyes followed until it was lost in the mild wide spaces of the
+night.
+
+
+Another hot September sun was beating upon the earth as Betty
+galloped down the lane and swung her horse's head in the
+direction of Raleigh.  Her grief had worn itself out and she
+carried a pale but resolute face.  Carrington was gone; she would
+keep her promise to Charley and he should never know what his
+happiness had cost her.  She nerved herself for their meeting;
+somewhere between Belle Plain and Thicket Point Norton would be
+waiting for her.
+
+He joined her before she had covered a third of the distance that
+separated the two plantations.
+
+"Thank God, my darling!" he cried fervently, as he ranged up
+alongside of her.
+
+"Then you weren't sure of me, Charley?"
+
+"No, I wasn't sure, Betty--but I hoped.  I have been haunting the
+road for more than an hour.  You are making one poor unworthy
+devil happy, unless--"
+
+"Unless what, Charley?" she prompted.
+
+"Unless you came here merely to tell me that after all you
+couldn't marry me."  He put out his hand and covered hers that
+held the reins.  "I'll never give you cause to regret it--you
+know how I love you, dear?"
+
+"Yes, Charley--I know."  She met his glance bravely.
+
+"We are to go to the church.  Mr. Bowen will be there; I arranged
+with him last night; he will drive over with his wife and
+daughter, who will be our witnesses, dear.  We could have gone to
+his house, but I thought it would seem more like a real wedding
+in a church, you know."
+
+Betty did not answer him, her eyes were fixed straight ahead, the
+last vestige of color had faded from her face and a deathly
+pallor was there.  This was the crowning horror.  She felt the
+terrible injustice she was doing the man at her side, the depth
+and sincerity of his devotion was something for which she could
+make no return.  Her lips trembled on the verge of an avowal of
+her love for Carrington.  Presently she saw the church in its
+grove of oaks, in the shade of one of these stood Mr. Bowen's
+horse and buggy.
+
+"We won't have to wait on him!" said Norton.
+
+"No--" Betty gasped out the monosyllable.
+
+"Why--my darling--what's the matter?" he asked tenderly, his
+glance bent in concern on the frightened face of the girl.
+
+"Nothing--nothing, Charley
+
+They had reined in their horses.  Norton sprang to the ground and
+lifted her from the saddle.
+
+"It will only take a moment, dear!" he whispered encouragingly in
+the brief instant he held her in his arms.
+
+"Oh, Charley, it isn't that--it's dreadfully serious--" she said,
+with a wild little laugh that was almost hysterical.
+
+"I wouldn't have it less than that," he said gravely.
+
+
+Afterward Betty could remember standing before the church in the
+fierce morning light; she heard Mr. Bowen's voice, she heard
+Charley's voice, she heard another voice--her own, though she
+scarcely recognized it.  Then, like one aroused from a dream, she
+looked about her--she met Charley's glance; his face was radiant
+and she smiled back at him through a sudden mist that swam before
+her eyes.
+
+Mr. Bowen led her toward the church door.  As they neared it they
+caught the clatter of hoofs, and Tom Ware on a hard-ridden horse
+dashed up; he was covered with dust and inarticulate with rage.
+Then a cry came from him that was like the roar of some mortally
+wounded animal.
+
+"I forbid this marriage!" he shrieked, when he could command
+speech.
+
+"You're too late to stop it, Tom, but you can attend it," said
+Norton composedly.
+
+"You--you--"  Words failed the planter; he sat his horse the
+picture of a grim and sordid despair.
+
+Mr. Bowen divided a look of reproach between his wife and
+daughter; his own conscience was clear; he had told no one of the
+purpose of Norton's call the night before.
+
+"I'll tie the horses, Betty," said Norton.
+
+Ware turned fiercely to Bowen.
+
+"You knew better than to be a party to this, and by God!--if you
+go on with it you shall live to regret it!"
+
+The minister made him no answer, he thoroughly disapproved of the
+planter.  It was well that Betty should have a proper protector,
+this half-brother was hardly that measured by any standard.
+
+Norton, leading the horses, had reached the edge of the oaks when
+from the silent depths of the denser woods came the sharp report
+of a rifle.  The shock of the bullet sent the young fellow
+staggering back among the mossy and myrtle-covered graves.
+
+For a moment no one grasped what had happened, only there was
+Norton who seemed to grope strangely among the graves.  Black
+spots danced before his eyes, the little group by the church
+merged into the distance--always receding, always more remote, as
+he, stumbled helplessly over the moss and the thick dank myrtle
+and among the round graves that gave him a treacherous footing;
+and then he heard Betty's agonized cry.  He had fallen now, and
+his strength went from him, but he kept his face turned on the
+group before the church in mute appeal, and even as the shadows
+deepened he was aware that Betty was coming swiftly toward him.
+
+"I'm shot--" he said, speaking with difficulty.
+
+"Charley--Charley--" she moaned, slipping her strong young arms
+about him and gathering him to her breast.
+
+He looked up into her face.
+
+"It's all over--" he said, but as much in wonder as in fear.
+"But I knew you would come to me--dear--" he added in a whisper.
+She felt a shudder pass through him.  He did not speak again.
+His lips opened once, and closed on silence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE JUDGE OFFERS A REWARD
+
+
+The news of Charley Norton's murder spread quickly over the
+county.  For two or three days bands of armed men scoured the
+woods and roads, and then this activity quite unproductive of any
+tangible results ceased, matters were allowed to rest with the
+constituted authorities, namely Mr. Betts the sheriff, and his
+deputies.
+
+No private citizen had shown greater zeal than Judge Slocum
+Price, no voice had clamored more eloquently for speedy justice
+than his.  He had sustained a loss that was in a peculiar sense
+personal, he explained.  Mr. Norton was his friend and client;
+they had much in common; their political ideals were in the
+strictest accord and he had entertained a most favorable opinion
+of the young man's abilities; he had urged him to enter the
+national arena and carve out a career for himself; he had
+promised him his support.  The judge so worked upon his own
+feelings that presently any mention of Norton's name utterly
+unmanned him.  Well, this was life.  One could only claim time as
+it was doled out by clock ticks; we planned for the years and
+could not be certain of the moments.
+
+He spent two entire days at the church and in the surrounding
+woods, nor did any one describe the murder with the vividness he
+achieved in his description of it.  The minister's narrative was
+pale and colorless by comparison, and those who came from a
+distance went away convinced that they had talked with an
+eyewitness to the tragedy and esteemed themselves fortunate.  In
+short, he imposed himself on the situation with such brilliancy
+that in the end his account of the murder became the accepted
+version from which all other versions differed to their
+discredit.
+
+In the same magnificent spirit of public service he would have
+assumed the direction of the search for the murderer, but Mr.
+Betts' jealousy proved an obstacle to his ambitious design.  In
+view of this he was regretful, but not surprised when the
+hard-ridden miles covered by dusty men and reeking horses yielded
+only failure.
+
+"If I had shot that poor boy, I wouldn't ask any surer guarantee
+of safety than to have that fool Betts with his microscopic brain
+working in unhampered asininity on the case," he told Mahaffy.
+
+"Is it your idea that you are enlarging your circle of intimate
+friends by the way you go about slamming into folks?" inquired
+Mahaffy, with harsh sarcasm.
+
+Later, the judge was shocked at what he characterized as official
+apathy.  It became a point on which he expressed himself with
+surpassing candor.
+
+"Do they think the murderer's going to come in and give himself
+up?--is that the notion?" he demanded heatedly of Mr. Saul.
+
+"The sheriff owns himself beat, Sir; the murderer's got safely
+away and left no clue to his identity."
+
+The judge waived this aside.
+
+"Clues, sir?  If you mean physical evidence the eye can
+apprehend, I grant it; the murderer has got away; certainly he's
+been given all the time he needed, but what about the motive that
+prompted the crime?  An intelligently conducted examination such
+as I am willing to undertake might still bring it to light.
+Isn't it known that Norton was attacked a fortnight ago as he was
+leaving Belle Plain?  He recovers and is about to be married to
+Miss Malroy when he is shot at the church door; I'll hazard the
+opinion the attack was in the nature of a warning for him to keep
+away from Belle Plain.  Now, had he a rival?  Clear up these
+points and you get a clue!"  The judge paused impressively.
+
+"Tom Ware has acted in a straightforward manner.  He's stated
+frankly he was opposed to the match, that when he heard about it
+on his way to Memphis he turned back and made every effort to get
+to the church in time to stop it if he could," said Mr. Saul.
+
+"Mr. Ware need not be considered," observed the judge.
+
+"Well, there's been a heap of talk."
+
+"If he'd inspired the firing of the fatal shot he'd have kept
+away from the church.  No, no, Mr. Saul, is there anybody
+hereabout who aspired to Miss Malroy's hand--any rejected
+suitor?"
+
+"Not that we know of."
+
+"Under ordinary circumstances, sir, I am opposed to measures that
+ignore the constituted authorities, but we find ourselves living
+under extraordinary conditions, and the law--God save the name
+--has proved itself abortive.  It is time for the better element to
+join bands; we must get together, sir.  I am willing to take the
+initial steps and issue the call for a mass meeting of our best
+citizens.  I am prepared to address such a meeting."  The very
+splendor of his conception dazzled the judge; this promised a
+gorgeous publicity with his name flying broadcast over the
+county.  He continued:
+
+"I am ready to give my time gratuitously to directing the
+activities of a body of picked men who shall rid the county of
+the lawless element.  God knows, sir, I desire the repose of a
+private career, yet I am willing to sacrifice myself.  Is it your
+opinion, Mr. Saul, that I should move in this matter?"
+
+"I advise you didn't," said Mr. Saul, with disappointing
+alacrity.
+
+The judge looked at him fixedly.
+
+"Am I wrong in supposing, Mr. Saul, that if I determine to act as
+I have outlined I shall have your indorsement?" he demanded.  Mr.
+Saul looked extremely uncomfortable; he was finding the judge's
+effulgent personality rather compelling.  "There is no gentleman
+whose support I should value in quite the same sense that I
+should value yours, Mr. Saul; I should like to feel my course met
+with your full approval," pursued the judge, with charming
+deference.
+
+"You'll get yourself shot full of holes," said Mr. Saul.
+
+"What causes me to hesitate is this: my name is unfamiliar to
+your citizens.  You know their prejudices, Mr. Saul; how would
+they regard me if I put myself forward?"
+
+"Can't say how they would take it," rejoined Mr. Saul.
+
+Again the judge gave him a fixed scrutiny.  Then ha shook him
+warmly by the hand.
+
+"Think of what I have said; ponder it, sir, and let me have your
+answer at another time." And he backed from Mr. Saul's presence
+with spectacular politeness.
+
+"A cheap mind!" thought the judge, as he hurried up the street.
+
+He broached the subject to Mr. Wesley the postmaster, to Mr.
+Ellison the gunsmith, to Mr. Pegloe, employing much the same
+formula he had used with Mr. Saul, and with results almost
+identical.  He imagined there must be some conspiracy afoot to
+keep him out of the public eye, and in the end he managed to lose
+his temper.
+
+"Hasn't Norton any friends?" he demanded of Pegloe.  "Who's going
+to be safe at this rate?  We want to let some law into west
+Tennessee, a hanging or two would clear the air!"  His emotions
+became a rage that blew through him like a gale, shaking him to
+his center.
+
+Two mornings later he found where it had been placed under his
+door during the night a folded paper.  It contained a single line
+of writing:
+
+
+"You talk too much.  Shut up, or you'll go where Norton went."
+
+
+Now the judge was accessible to certain forms of fear.  He was,
+for instance, afraid of snakes--both kinds--and mobs he had
+dreaded desperately since his Pleasantville experience; but
+beyond this, fear remained an unexplored region to Slocum Price,
+and as he examined the scrawl a smile betokening supreme
+satisfaction overspread his battered features.  He was agreeably
+affected by the situation; indeed he was delighted.  His
+activities were being recognized; he had made his impression; the
+cutthroats had selected him to threaten.  Well, the damned
+rascals showed their good sense; he'd grant them that!  Swelling
+with pride, he carried the scrawl to Mahaffy.
+
+"They are forming their estimate of me, Solomon; I shall have
+them on the run yet!" he declared.
+
+"You are going out of your way to hunt trouble--as if you hadn't
+enough at the best of times, Price!  Let these people manage
+their own affairs, don't you mix up in them," advised the
+conservative Mahaffy.
+
+The judge drew himself up with an air of lofty pride.
+
+"Do you think I am going to be silenced, intimidated, by this
+sort of thing?  No, sir!  No, Solomon, the stopper isn't made
+that will fit my mouth."
+
+A few moments later he burst in on Mr. Saul.
+
+"Glance at that, my friend!" he cried, as he tossed the paper on
+the clerk's desk.  "Eh, what?--no joke about that, Mr. Saul.  I
+found it under my door this morning."  Mr. Saul glanced at the
+penciled lines and drew in his breath sharply.  "What do you make
+of it, sir?" demanded the judge anxiously.
+
+"Well, of course, you'll do as you please, but I'd keep still."
+
+"You mean you regard this as an authentic expression, sir, and
+not as the joke of some irresponsible humorist?"
+
+"It's authentic enough," said Mr. Saul impatiently.
+
+The judge gave a sigh of relief; he could have hugged the little
+clerk who had put to rest certain miserable doubts that had
+assailed him.
+
+"Sir, I wish it known that I hold the writer and his threats in
+contempt; if I have given offense it is to an element I shall
+never seek to conciliate."  Mr. Saul was clearly divided between
+his admiration for the judge's courage and fear for his safety.
+"One thing is proven, sir," the judge went on; "the man who
+murdered that poor boy is in our midst; that point can no longer
+be disputed.  Now, where are their fine-spun theories as to how
+he crossed to the Arkansas coast?  What does their mass of
+speculation and conjecture amount to in the face of this?"  He
+breathed deep.  "My God, sir, the murderer may be the very next
+man you pass the time of day with!"  Mr. Saul shivered
+uncomfortably.  "And the case in the hands of that pin-headed
+fool, Betts!"  The judge laughed derisively as he bowed himself
+out.  He left it with Mr. Saul to disseminate the news.
+The judge strutted home with his hat cocked over one eye, and his
+chest expanded to such limits that it menaced all his waistcoat
+buttons.  Perhaps he was under observation.  Ah, let the
+cutthroats look their full at him!
+
+He established himself in his office.  He had scarcely done so
+when Mr. Betts knocked at the door.  The sheriff came direct from
+Mr. Saul and arrived out of breath, but the letter was not
+mentioned by the judge.  He spoke of the crops, the chance of
+rain, and the intricacies of county politics.  The sheriff
+withdrew mystified, wondering why it was he had not felt at
+liberty to broach the subject which was uppermost in his mind.
+His place was taken by Mr. Pegloe, and on the heels of the
+tavern-keeper came Mr. Bowen.  Judge Price received them with
+condescension, but back of the condescension was an air of
+reserve that did not invite questions.  The judge discussed the
+extension of the national roads with Mr. Pegloe, and the religion
+of the Persian fire-worshipers with Mr. Bowen; he permitted never
+a pause and they retired as the sheriff had done without sight of
+the letter.
+
+The judge's office became a perfect Mecca.  for the idle and the
+curious, and while he overflowed with high-bred courtesy he had
+never seemed so unapproachable--never so remote from matters of
+local and contemporary interest.
+
+"Why don't you show 'em the letter?" demanded Mr. Mahaffy, when
+they were alone.  "Can't you see they are suffering for a sight
+of it?"
+
+"All in good time, Solomon."  He became thoughtful.  "Solomon, I
+am thinking of offering a reward for any information that will
+lead to the discovery of my anonymous correspondent," he at
+length observed with a finely casual air, as if the idea had just
+occurred to him, and had not been seething in his brain all day.
+
+"There you go, Price--" began Mahaffy.
+
+"Solomon, this is no time for me to hang back.  I shall offer a
+reward of five thousand dollars for this information."  The
+judge's tone was resolute.  "Yes, sir, I shall make the figure
+commensurate with the poignant grief I feel.  He was my friend
+and client--"  The moisture gathered in his eyes.
+
+"I should think that fifty dollars was nearer to being your
+figure," suggested the cautious Mahaffy.
+
+"Inadequate and most insulting," said the judge.
+
+"Well, where do you expect to get five thousand dollars?" cried
+Mahaffy in a tone of absolute exasperation.
+
+"Where would I get fifty?" inquired the judge mildly.
+
+For once Mahaffy frankly owned himself beaten.  A gleam of
+admiration lit up his glance.
+
+"Price, you have a streak of real greatness!" he declared.
+
+Before the day was over it was generally believed that the judge
+was wearing his gag with humility; interest in him declined,
+still the public would have been grateful for a sight of that
+letter.
+
+"Shucks, he's nothing but an old windbag!" said Mr. Pegloe to a
+group of loungers gathered before his tavern in the early
+evening.
+
+As he spoke, the judge's door opened and that gentleman appeared
+on his threshold with a lighted candle in each hand.  Glancing
+neither to the right nor the left he passed out and up the
+street.  Not a breath of wind was blowing and the flames of the
+two candles burnt clear and strong, lighting up his stately
+advance.
+
+At the corner of the court-house green stood a row of locust
+hitching posts.  Two of these the judge decorated with his
+candles, next he measured off fifteen paces, strides as liberal
+as he could make them without sacrifice to his dignity; he scored
+a deep line in the dust with the heel of his boot, toed it
+squarely, and drew himself up to his fullest height.  His right
+hand was seen to disappear under the frayed tails of his coat, it
+reappeared and was raised with a movement quicker than the eye
+could follow and a pistol shot rang out.  One of the candles was
+neatly snuffed.
+
+The judge allowed himself a covert glance in the direction of the
+loungers before the tavern.  He was aware that a larger audience
+was assembling.  A slight smile relaxed the firm set of his lips.
+The remaining candle sputtered feebly.  The judge walked to the
+post and cleared the wick from tallow with his thumb-nail.  There
+was no haste in any of his movements; his was the deliberation of
+conscious efficiency.  Resuming his former station back of the
+line he had drawn in the dusty road he permitted his eye to gauge
+the distance afresh, then his hand was seen to pass deftly to his
+left hip pocket, the long barrel of the rifle pistol was leveled,
+the piece cracked, and the candle's yellow flame vanished.
+
+The judge pocketed his pistol, walked down the street, and with
+never a glance toward the tavern reentered his house.
+
+The next morning it was discovered that sometime during the night
+the judge had tacked his anonymous communication on the
+court-house door; just below it was another sheet of paper
+covered with bold script:
+
+
+"TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: Judge Slocum Price assumes that the
+above was intended for him since he found it under his office
+door on the morning of the twenty-fifth inst.
+
+"Judge Price begs leave to state it as his unqualified conviction
+that the writer is a coward and a cur, and offers a reward of
+five thousand dollars for any information that will lead to his
+identification.
+
+"Judge Price has stated that he would conduct an intelligently
+directed investigation of the Norton murder mystery without
+remuneration.  He has the honor to assure his friends that he is
+still willing to do so; however, he takes this opportunity to
+warn the public that each day's delay is a matter of the utmost
+gravity.
+
+"Furthermore, judge Price avails himself on this occasion to say
+that he has no wish to avoid personal conclusions with the
+murderers and cutthroats who are terrorizing this community; on
+the contrary, he will continue earnestly to seek such personal
+conclusions."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+THE CABIN ACROSS THE BAYOU
+
+
+Tom Ware was seated alone over his breakfast.  He had left his
+bed as the pale morning light crept across the great fields that
+were alike his pride and his despair--what was the use of trying
+to sleep when sleep was an impossibility!  The memory of that
+tragedy at the church door was a black horror to him; it gave
+substance to his dreams, it brought him awake with writhing lips
+that voiced his fear in the dead stillness of the night.  The
+days were scarcely less terrible.  Steeled and resolute as his
+will could make him, he was not able to speak of what he had seen
+with composure.  Being as he was in this terribly perturbed state
+he had shirked his morning toilet and presented a proportionately
+haggard and unkempt appearance.  He was about to quit the table
+when big Steve entered the room to say there was a white fellow
+at the door wished to see him.
+
+"Fetch him along in here," said Ware briefly, without lifting his
+bloodshot eyes.
+
+Brought into his presence the white fellow delivered a penciled
+note which proved to be from Murrell, and then on Ware's
+invitation partook of whisky.  When he was gone, the planter
+ordered his horse, and while he waited for it to be brought up
+from the stables, reread Murrell's note.  The expression of his
+unprepossessing features indicated what was passing in his mind,
+his mood was one of sullen rebellion.  He felt Murrell was bent
+on committing him to an aggregate of crime he would never have
+considered possible, and all for love of a girl--a pink-cheeked,
+white-faced chit of a girl--disgust boiled up within him, rage
+choked him; this was the rotten spot in Murrell's make-up, the
+man was mad-stark mad!
+
+As Ware rode away from Belle Plain he cursed him under his breath
+with vindictive thoroughness.  His own inclination toward evil
+was never very robust; he could have connived and schemed over a
+long period of years to despoil Betty of her property, he would
+have counted this a legitimate field for enterprise; but murder
+and abduction was quite another thing.  He would wash his hands
+of all further connection with Murrell, he had other things to
+lose besides Belle Plain, and the present would be as good a time
+as any to let the outlaw know he could be coerced and bullied no
+longer.  But he had a saving recollection of the way in which
+Murrell dealt with what he counted treachery; an unguarded word,
+and he would not dare to travel those roads even at broad
+noon-day, while to pass before a lighted window at night would be
+to invite death; nowhere would he be safe.
+
+Three miles from Belle Plain he entered a bridle path that led
+toward the river; he was now traversing a part of the Quintard
+tract.  Two miles from the point where he had quitted the main
+road he came out upon the shores of a wide bayou.  Looking across
+this he saw at a distance of half a mile what seemed to be a
+clearing of considerable extent, it was the first sign of human
+occupation he had seen since leaving Belle Plain.
+
+An impenetrable swamp defended the head of the bayou which he
+skirted.  Doubling back as though he were going to retrace his
+steps to Belle Plain, finally he gained a position opposite the
+clearing which still showed remotely across the wide reach of
+sluggish water.  Here he dismounted and tied his horse, then as
+one tolerably familiar with the locality and its resources, he
+went down to the shore and launched a dugout which he found
+concealed in some bushes; entering it he pointed its blunt bow in
+the direction of the clearing opposite.  A growth of small timber
+was still standing along the water's edge, but as he drew nearer,
+those betterments which the resident of that lonely spot had seen
+fit to make for his own convenience, came under his scrutiny;
+these consisted of a log cabin and several lesser sheds.
+Landing and securing his dug-out by the simple expedient of
+dragging half its length out of the water, he advanced toward the
+cabin.  As he did so he saw two women at work heckling flax under
+an open shed.  They were the wife and daughter of George Hicks,
+his overseer's brother.
+
+"Morning, Mrs. Hicks," he said, addressing himself to the mother,
+a hulking ruffian of a woman.
+
+"Howdy, sir?" she answered.  Her daughter glanced indifferently
+in Ware's direction.  She was a fine strapping girl, giving that
+sense of physical abundance which the planter admired.
+
+"They'd better keep her out of Murrell's way!" he thought; aloud
+he said, "Anybody with the captain?"
+
+"Colonel Fentress is."
+
+"Humph!" muttered Ware.  He moved to the door of the cabin and
+pushing it open, entered the room where Murrell and Fentress were
+seated facing each other across the breakfast table.  The planter
+nodded curtly.  He had not seen Murrell since the murder, and the
+sight of him quickened the spirit of antagonism which he had been
+nursing.  "You roust a fellow out early enough!" he grumbled,
+rubbing his unshaven chin with the back of his hand.
+
+"I was afraid you'd be gone somewhere.  Sit down--here, between
+the colonel and me," said Murrell.
+
+"Well, what the devil do you want of me anyhow?" demanded the
+planter.
+
+"How's your sister, Tom?" inquired Murrell.
+
+"I reckon she's the way you'd expect her to be."  Ware dropped
+his voice to a whisper.  Those women were just the other side of
+the logs, he could hear them at their work.
+
+"Who's at Belle Plain now?" continued Murrell.
+
+"Bowen's wife and daughter have stayed," answered Ware, still in
+a whisper.
+
+"For how long, Tom?  Do you know?"
+
+"They were to go home after breakfast this morning; the
+daughter's to come out again to-morrow and stay with Betty until
+she leaves."
+
+"What's that you're saying?" cried Murrell.
+
+"She's going back to North Carolina to those friends of hers;
+it's no concern of mine, she does what she likes without
+consulting me."  There was a brief pause during which Murrell
+scowled at the planter.
+
+"I reckon your heart's tender, too!" he presently said.  Ware's
+dull glance shifted to Fentress, but the colonel's cold and
+impassive exterior forbade the thought that his sympathy had been
+roused.
+
+"It isn't that," Ware muttered, moistening his lips.  He felt the
+utter futility of opposition.  "I am for letting things rest just
+where they are," again his voice slid into a husky whisper.
+"You'll be running all our heads into a halter, the first thing
+you know--and this isn't any place to talk over such matters,
+there are too many people about."
+
+"There's only Bess and the old woman busy outside," said Murrell.
+
+"What's to hinder them from sticking an ear to a chink in the
+logs?"
+
+"Go on, and finish what you've got to say, and get it off your
+mind," said Murrell.
+
+"Well, then, I want to tell you that I consider you didn't regard
+me at all in the way you managed that business at the church!  If
+I had known what was due to happen there, do you think I'd have
+gone near the place?  But you let me go!  I met you on the road
+and you told me you'd learned Norton had been to see Bowen, you
+told me that much, but you didn't tell me near all you might!"
+Ware was bitter and resentful; again he felt the sweat of a
+mortal terror drip from him.
+
+"It was the best thing for you that it happened the way it did,"
+rejoined Murrell coolly.  "No one will ever think you had a hand
+in it."
+
+"It wasn't right!  You placed me in the meanest kind of a
+situation," objected Ware sullenly, mopping his face.
+
+"Did you think I was going to let the marriage take place?  You
+knew he had been warned to keep away from her," said Murrell.
+There was a movement overhead in the loft, the loose clapboards
+with which it was floored creaked under a heavy tread.
+
+"Who's that?  Hicks?" asked Ware.
+
+"It isn't Hicks--never mind who it is, Tom," answered Murrell
+quietly.
+
+"I thought you'd sent him out of the county?" muttered Ware, his
+face livid.
+
+"Look here, Tom, I don't ask your help, but I won't stand your
+interference.  I'm going to have the girl."
+
+"John, you'll ruin yourself with your damned crazy infatuation!"
+It was Fentress, no longer able to control himself, who spoke.
+
+"No, I won't, Colonel, but I'm not going to discuss that.  All I
+want is for Tom to go to Memphis and stay there for a couple of
+days.  When he comes back Belle Plain and its niggers will be as
+good as his.  I am going to take the girl away from there
+to-night.  I don't ask your help and you needn't ask what comes
+of her afterward.  That will be my affair."  Murrell's burning
+eyes shifted from one to the other.
+
+"A beautiful and accomplished young lady--a great heiress--is to
+disappear and no solution of the mystery demanded by the public
+at large!" said Fentress with an acid smile.  Murrell laughed
+contemptuously.
+
+"What's all this fuss over Norton's death amounted to?" he said.
+
+"Are you sure you have come to the end of that, John?" inquired
+Fentress, still smiling.
+
+"I don't propose to debate this further," rejoined Murrell
+haughtily.  Instantly the colonel's jaw became rigid.  The
+masterful airs of this cutthroat out of the hills irked him
+beyond measure.  Murrell turned to Ware.
+
+"How soon can you get away from here, Tom?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"By God, I can't go too soon!" cried the planter, staggering to
+his feet.  He gave Fentress a hopeless beaten look.  "You're my
+witness that first and last I've no part in this!" he added.
+
+The colonel merely shrugged his shoulders.  Murrell reached out a
+detaining hand and rested it on Ware's arm.
+
+"Keep your wits about you, Tom, and within a week people will
+have forgotten all about Norton and your sister.  I am going to
+give them something else to worry over."
+
+Ware went from the cabin, and as the door swung shut Fentress
+faced Murrell across the table.
+
+"I've gone as far with you in this affair as I can go; after all,
+as you say, it is a private matter.  You reap the benefits--you
+and Tom between you--I shall give you a wide berth until you come
+to your senses.  Frankly, if you think that in this late day in
+the world you can carry off an unwilling girl, your judgment is
+faulty."
+
+"Hold on, Colonel--how do you know she is going to prove
+unwilling?" objected Murrell, grinning.
+
+Fentress gave him a glance of undisguised contempt and rose from
+his seat.
+
+"I admit your past successes, John--that is, I take your word for
+them--but Miss Malroy is a lady."
+
+"I have heard enough!" said Murrell angrily.
+
+"So have I, John," retorted the colonel in a tone that was
+unvexed but final, "and I shall count it a favor if you will
+never refer to her in my hearing."  He moved in the direction of
+the door.
+
+"Oh, you and I are not going to lose our tempers over this!"
+began Murrell.  "Come, sit down again, Colonel!" he concluded
+with great good nature.
+
+"We shall never agree, John--you have one idea and I another."
+
+"We'll let the whole matter drop out of our talk.  Look here, how
+about the boy--are you ready for him if I can get my hands on
+him?"
+
+Fentress considered.  From the facts he had gathered he knew that
+the man who called himself Judge Price must soon run his course
+in Raleigh, and then as inevitably push out for fresh fields.
+Any morning might find him gone and the boy with him.
+
+"I can't take him to my place as I had intended doing; under the
+circumstances that is out of the question," he said at length.
+
+"Of course; but I'll send him either up or down the river and
+place him in safe keeping where you can get him any time you
+want."
+
+"This must be done without violence, John!" stipulated Fentress.
+
+"Certainly, I understand that perfectly well.  It wouldn't suit
+your schemes to have that brace of old sots handled by the Clan.
+Which shall it be--up or down river?"
+
+"Could you take care of him for me below, at Natchez?" inquired
+Fentress.
+
+"As well there as anywhere, Colonel, and he'll pass into safe
+hands; he won't give me the slip the second time!"
+
+"Good!" said Fentress, and took his leave.
+
+From the window Murrell watched him cross the clearing, followed
+by the girl, Bess, who was to row him over to the opposite shore.
+He reflected that these men--the Wares and Fentresses and their
+like--were keen enough where they had schemes of their own they
+wished put through; it was only when he reached out empty hands
+that they reckoned the consequences.
+
+Three-quarters of an hour slipped by, then, piercing the silence,
+Murrell heard a shrill whistle; it was twice repeated; he saw
+Bess go down to the landing again.  A half-hour elapsed and a man
+issued from the scattering growth of bushes that screened the
+shore.  The new-comer crossed the clearing and entered the cabin.
+He was a young fellow of twenty-four or five, whose bronzed and
+sunburnt face wore a somewhat reckless expression.
+
+"Well, Captain, what's doing?" he asked, as he shook hands with
+Murrell.
+
+"I've been waiting for you, Hues," said Murrell.  He continued,
+"I reckon the time's here when nothing will be gained by delay."
+
+Hues dropped down on a three-legged stool and looked at the
+outlaw fixedly and in silence for a moment.  At length he nodded
+understandingly.
+
+"You mean?"
+
+"If anything's to be done, now is the time.  What have you to
+report?"
+
+"Well, I've seen the council of each Clan division.  They are
+ripe to start this thing off."
+
+Murrell gave him a moment of moody regard.
+
+"Twice already I've named the day and hour, but now I'm going to
+put it through!"  He set his teeth and thrust out his jaw.
+
+"Captain, you're the greatest fellow in America!  Inside of a
+week men who have never been within five hundred miles of you
+will be asking each other who John Murrell is!"
+
+Murrell had expected to part with Hues then and there and for all
+time, but Hues possessed qualities which might still be of use to
+him.
+
+"What do you expect to do for yourself?" he demanded.  The other
+laughed shortly.
+
+"Captain, I'm going to get rich while I have the chance.  Ain't
+that what we are all after?"
+
+"How?" inquired Murrell quietly.  Hues shifted his seat.
+
+"I'm sensitive about calling things by their short names;" he
+gave way to easy laughter; "but if you've got anything special
+you're saving for yourself, I'm free to say I'd rather take
+chances with you than with another," he finished carelessly.
+
+"Hues, you must start back across Tennessee.  Make it Sunday at
+midnight--that's three days off."  Unconsciously his voice sank
+to a whisper.
+
+"Sunday at midnight," repeated Hues slowly.
+
+"When you have passed the word into middle Tennessee, turn south
+and make the best of your way to New Orleans.  Don't stop for
+anything--push through as fast as you can.  You'll find me there.
+I've a notion you and I will quit the country together."
+
+"Quit the country!  Why, Captain, who's talking of quitting the
+country?"
+
+"You speak as though you were fool enough to think the niggers
+would accomplish something!" said Murrell coolly.  "There will be
+confusion at first, but there are enough white men in the
+southwest to handle a heap better organized insurrection than
+we'll be able to set going.  Our fellows will have to use their
+heads as well as their hands or they are likely to help the
+nigger swallow his medicine.  I look for nothing else than
+considerable of a shake-up along the Mississippi . . . what with
+lynchers and regulators a man will have to show a clean bill of
+health to be allowed to live, no matter what his color--just
+being white won't help him any!"
+
+"No, you're right, it won't!" and again Hues gave way to easy
+laughter.
+
+"When you've done your work you strike south as I tell you and
+join me.  I'm going to keep New Orleans for myself--it's my
+ambition to destroy the city Old Hickory saved!"
+
+"And then it's change your name and strike out for Texas with
+what you've picked up!"
+
+"No, it isn't!  I'll have my choice of men--a river full of
+ships.  Look here, there's South America, or some of those
+islands in the gulf with a black-and-tan population and a few
+white mongrels holding on to civilization by their eye-teeth;
+what's to hinder our setting up shop for ourselves?  Two or three
+hundred Americans could walk off with an island like Hayti, for
+instance--and it's black with niggers.  What we'd done here would
+be just so much capital down there.  We'd make it a
+stamping-ground for the Clan!  In the next two years we could
+bring in a couple of thousand Americans and then we'd be ready to
+take over their government, whether they liked it or not, and run
+it at a profit.  We'd put the niggers back in slavery where they
+belong, and set them at work raising sugar and tobacco for their
+new bosses.  Man, it's the richest land in the world, I tell you
+--and the mountains are full of gold!"
+
+Hues had kindled with a ready enthusiasm while Murrell was
+speaking.
+
+"That sounds right, Captain--we'd have a country and a flag of
+our own--and I look at those free niggers as just so much boot!"
+
+"I shall take only picked men with me--I can't give ship room to
+any other--but I want you.  You'll join me in New Orleans?" said
+Murrell.
+
+"When do you start south?" asked Hues quickly.
+
+"Inside of two days.  I've got some private business to settle
+before I leave.  I'll hang round here until that's attended to."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+THE JUDGE EXTENDS HIS CREDIT
+
+
+That afternoon Judge Price walked out to Belle Plain.  Solomon
+Mahaffy had known that this was a civility Betty Malroy could by
+no means escape.  He had been conscious of the judge's purpose
+from the moment it existed in the germ state, and he had striven
+to divert him, but his striving had been in vain, for though the
+judge valued Mr. Mahaffy because of certain sterling qualities
+which he professed to discern beneath the hard crust that made up
+the external man, he was not disposed to accept him as his mentor
+in nice matters of taste and gentlemanly feeling.  He owed it to
+himself personally to tender his sympathy.  Miss Malroy must have
+heard something of the honorable part he had played; surely she
+could not be in ignorance of the fact that the lawless element,
+dreading his further activities, had threatened him.  She must
+know, too, about that reward of five thousand dollars.  Certainly
+her grief could not blind her to the fact that he had met the
+situation with a largeness of public spirit that was an
+impressive lesson to the entire community.'
+
+These were all points over which he and Mahaffy had wrangled, and
+he felt that his friend, in seeking to keep him away from Belle
+Plain, was standing squarely in his light.  He really could not
+understand Solomon or his objections.  He pointed out that Norton
+had probably left a will--no one knew yet--probably his estate
+would go to his intended wife--what more likely?  He understood
+Norton had cousins somewhere in middle Tennessee--there was the
+attractive possibility of extended litigation.  Miss Malroy
+needed a strong, clear brain to guide her past those difficulties
+his agile fancy assembled in her path.  He beamed on his friend
+with a wide sunny smile.
+
+"You mean she needs a lawyer, Price?" insinuated Mahaffy.
+
+"That slap at me, Solomon, is unworthy of you.  Just name some
+one, will you, who has shown an interest comparable to mine?  I
+may say I have devoted my entire energy to her affairs, and with
+disinterestedness.  I have made myself felt.  Will you mention
+who else these cutthroats have tried to browbeat and frighten?
+They know that my theories and conclusions are a menace to them!
+I got 'em in a panic, sir--presently some fellow will lose his
+nerve and light out for the tall timber--and it will be just
+Judge Slocum Price who's done the trick--no one else!"
+
+"Are you looking for some one to take a pot shot at you?"
+inquired Mahaffy sourly.
+
+"Your remark uncovers my fondest hope, Solomon--I'd give five
+years of my life just to be shot at--that would round out the
+episode of the letter nicely;" again the judge beamed on Mahaffy
+with that wide and sunny smile of his.
+
+"Why don't you let the boy go alone, Price?" suggested Mahaffy.
+He lacked that sense of sublime confidence in the judge's tact
+and discretion of which the judge, himself, entertained never a
+doubt.
+
+"I shall not obtrude myself, Solomon; I shall merely walk out to
+Belle Plain and leave a civil message.  I know what's due Miss
+Malroy in her bereaved state--she has sustained no ordinary loss,
+and in no ordinary fashion.  She has been the center of a
+striking and profoundly moving tragedy!  I would give a good deal
+to know if my late client left a will--"
+
+"You might ask her," said Mahaffy cynically.  "Nothing like going
+to headquarters for the news!"
+
+"Solomon, Solomon, give me credit for common sense--go further,
+and give me credit for common decency!  Don't let us forget that
+ever since we came here she has manifested a charmingly
+hospitable spirit where we are concerned!"
+
+"Wouldn't charity hit nearer the mark, Price?"
+
+"I have never so regarded it, Solomon," said the judge mildly.
+"I have read a different meaning in the beef and flour and
+potatoes she's sent here.  I expect if the truth could be known
+to us she is wondering in the midst of her grief why I haven't
+called, but she'll appreciate the considerate delicacy of a
+gentleman.  I wish it were possible to get cut flowers in this
+cussed wilderness!"
+
+The judge had been occupied with a simple but ingenious toilet.
+He had trimmed the frayed skirts of, his coat; then by turning
+his cuffs inside out and upside down a fresh surface made its
+first public appearance.  Next his shoes had engaged his
+attention.  They might have well discouraged a less resolute and
+resourceful character, but with the contents of his ink-well he
+artfully colored his white yarn socks where they showed though
+the rifts in the leather.  This the judge did gaily, now humming
+a snatch of song, now listening civilly to Mahaffy, now replying
+with undisturbed cheerfulness.  Last of all he clapped his dingy
+beaver on his head, giving it an indescribably jaunty slant, and
+stepped to the door.
+
+"Well, wish me luck, Solomon, I'm off--come, Hannibal!" he said.
+At heart he cherished small hope of seeing Betty, advantageous as
+he felt an interview might prove.  However, on reaching Belle
+Plain he and Hannibal were shown into the cool parlor by little
+Steve.  It was more years than the judge cared to remember since
+he had put his foot inside such a house, but with true grandeur
+of soul he rose to the occasion; a sublimated dignity shone from
+every battered feature, while he fixed little Steve with so
+fierce a glance that the grin froze on his lips.
+
+"You are to say that judge Slocum Price presents his compliments
+and condolences to Miss Malroy--have you got that straight, you
+pinch of soot?" he concluded affably.  Little Steve, impressed
+alike by the judge's air of condescension and his easy flow of
+words, signified that he had.  "You may also say that judge
+Price's ward, young Master Hazard, presents his compliments and
+condolences--"  What more the judge might have said was
+interrupted by the entrance of Betty, herself.
+
+"My dear young lady--" the judge bowed, then he advanced toward
+her with the solemnity of carriage and countenance he deemed
+suitable to the occasion, and her extended hand was engulfed
+between his two plump palms.  He rolled his eyes heavenward.
+"It's the Lord's to deal with us as His own inscrutable wisdom
+dictates," he murmured with pious resignation.  "We are all
+poorer, ma'am, that he has died--just as we were richer while he
+lived!"  The rich cadence of the judge's speech fell sonorously
+on the silence, and that look of horror which had never quite
+left Betty's eyes since they saw Charley Norton fall, rose out of
+their clear depths again.  The judge, instantly stricken with a
+sense of the inadequacy of his words, doubled on his spiritual
+tracks.  "In a round-about way, ma'am, we're bound to believe in
+the omnipresence of Providence--we must think it--though a body
+might be disposed to hold that west Tennessee had got out of the
+line of divine supervision recently.  Let me lead you to a chair,
+ma'am!"
+
+Hannibal had slipped to Betty's side and placed his hand in hers.
+The judge regarded the pair with great benevolence of expression.
+"He would come, and I hadn't the heart to forbid it.  If I can be
+of any service to you, ma'am, either in the capacity of a
+friend--or professionally--I trust you will not hesitate to
+command me--"  The judge backed toward the door.
+
+"Did you walk out, Judge Price?" asked Betty kindly.
+
+"Nothing more than a healthful exercise--but we will not detain
+you, ma'am; the pleasure of seeing you is something we had not
+reckoned on!"  The judge's speech was thick and unctuous with
+good feeling.  He wished that Mahaffy might have been there to
+note the reserve and dignity of his deportment.
+
+"But you must let me order luncheon for you," said Betty.  At
+least this questionable old man was good to Hannibal.
+
+"I couldn't think of it, ma'am--"
+
+"You'll have a glass of wine, then," urged Betty hospitably.  For
+the moment she had lost sight of what was clearly the judge's
+besetting sin.
+
+The judge paused abruptly.  He endured a moment of agonizing
+irresolution.
+
+"On the advice of my physician I dare not touch wine--gout,
+ma'am, and liver--but this restriction does not apply to corn
+whisky--in moderation, and as a tonic--either before meals,
+immediately after meals or at any time between meals--always
+keeping in mind the idea of its tonic properties--"  The judge
+seemed to mellow and ripen.  This was much better than having the
+dogs sicked on you!  His manner toward Betty became almost
+fatherly.  Poor young thing, so lonely and desolate in the midst
+of all this splendor--he surreptitiously wiped away a tear, and
+when little Steve presented himself and was told to bring whisky,
+audibly smacked his lips--a whole lot better, surely!
+
+"I am sorry you think you must hurry away, Judge Price," said
+Betty.  She still retained the small brown hand Hannibal had
+thrust into hers.
+
+"The eastern mail gets in to-day, ma'am, and I have reason to
+think my share of it will be especially heavy, for it brings the
+bulk of my professional correspondence."  In ten years the judge
+had received just one communication by mail--a bill which had
+followed him through four states and seven counties.  "I expect
+my secretary--" boldly fixing Solomon Mahaffy's status, "is
+already dipping into it; an excellent assistant, ma'am, but
+literary rather than legal."
+
+Little Steve reappeared bearing a silver tray on which was a
+decanter and glass.
+
+"Since you insist, ma'am," the judge poured himself a drink, "my
+best respects--" he bowed profoundly.
+
+"If you are quite willing, judge, I think I will keep Hannibal.
+Miss Bowen, who has been here--since--" her voice broke suddenly.
+
+"I understand, ma'am," said the judge soothingly.  He gave her a
+glance of great concern and turned to Hannibal.  "Dear lad,
+you'll be very quiet and obedient, and do exactly as Miss Malroy
+says?  When shall I come for him, ma'am?"
+
+"I'll send him to you when he is ready to go home.  I am thinking
+of visiting my friends in North Carolina, and I should like to
+have him spend as much time as possible with me before I start
+for the East."
+
+It had occurred to Betty that she had done little or nothing for
+the child; probably this would be her last opportunity.
+
+The state of the judge's feelings was such that with elaborate
+absence of mind he poured himself a second drink of whisky; and
+that there should be no doubt the act was one of inadvertence,
+said again, "My best respects, ma'am," and bowed as before.
+Putting down the glass he backed toward the door.
+
+"I trust you will not hesitate to call upon me if I can be of any
+use to you, ma'am--a message will bring me here without a
+moment's delay." He was rather disappointed that no allusion had
+been made to his recent activities.  He reasoned correctly that
+Betty was as yet in ignorance of the somewhat dangerous eminence
+he had achieved as the champion of law and order.  However, he
+reflected with satisfaction that Hannibal, in remaining, would
+admirably serve his ends.
+
+Betty insisted that he should be driven home, and after faintly
+protesting, the judge gracefully yielded the point, and a few
+moments later rolled away from Belle Plain behind a pair of
+sleek-coated bays, with a negro in livery on the box.  He was
+conscious of a great sense of exaltation.  He felt that he should
+paralyze Mahaffy.  He even temporarily forgot the blow his hopes
+had sustained when Betty spoke of returning to North Carolina.
+This was life--broad acres and niggers--principally to trot after
+you toting liquor--and such liquor!--he lolled back luxuriantly
+with half-closed eyes.
+
+"Twenty years in the wood if an hour!" he muttered.  "I'd like to
+have just such a taste in my mouth when I come to die--and
+probably she has barrels of it!" he sighed deeply, and searched
+his soul for words with which adequately to describe that whisky
+to Mahaffy.
+
+But why not do more than paralyze Solomon--that would be pleasant
+but not especially profitable.  The judge came back quickly to
+the vexed problem of his future.  He desired to make some
+striking display of Miss Malroy's courtesy.  He knew that his
+credit was experiencing the pangs of an early mortality; he was
+not sensitive, yet for some days he had been sensible of the fact
+that what he called the commercial class was viewing him with
+open disfavor, but he must hang on in Raleigh a little longer
+--for him it had become the abode of hope.  The judge considered
+the matter.  At least he could let people see something of that
+decent respect with which Miss Malroy treated him.
+
+They were entering Raleigh now, and he ordered the coachman to
+pull his horses down to a walk.  He had decided to make use of
+the Belle Plain turnout in creating an atmosphere of confidence
+and trust--especially trust.  To this end he spent the best part
+of an hour interviewing his creditors.  It amounted almost to a
+mass-meeting of the adult male population, for he had no
+favorites.  When he invaded virgin territory he believed in
+starting the largest possible number of accounts without delay.
+The advantage of his system, as he explained its workings to
+Mahaffy, was that it bred a noble spirit of emulation.
+He let it be known in a general way that things were looking up
+with him; just in what quarter he did not specify, but there he
+was, seated in the Belle Plain carriage and the inference was
+unavoidable that Miss Malroy was to recognize his activities in a
+substantial manner.
+
+Mahaffy, loafing away the afternoon in the county clerk's office,
+heard of the judge's return.  He heard that Charley Norton had
+left a will; that Thicket Point went to Miss Malroy; that the
+Norton cousins in middle Tennessee were going to put up a fight;
+that Judge Price had been retained as counsel by Miss Malroy;
+that he was authorized to begin an independent search for Charley
+Norton's murderer, and was to spare no expense; that Judge Price
+was going to pay his debts.  Mahaffy grinned at this and hurried
+home.  He could believe all but the last, that was the crowning
+touch of unreality.
+
+The judge explained the situation.
+
+"I wouldn't withhold hope from any man, Solomon; it's the
+cheapest thing in the world and the one thing we are most miserly
+about extending to our fellows.  These people all feel better
+--and what did it cost me?--just a little decent consideration;
+just the knowledge of what the unavoidable associations of ideas
+in their own minds would do for them!"
+
+What had seemed the corpse of credit breathed again, and the
+judge and Mahaffy immediately embarked upon a characteristic
+celebration.  Early candlelight found them making a beginning;
+midnight came--the gray and purple of dawn--and they were still
+at it, back of closed doors and shuttered windows.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+BETTY LEAVES BELLE PLAIN
+
+
+Hannibal had devoted himself loyally to the judge's
+glorification, and Betty heard all about the letter, the snuffing
+of the candles and the reward of five thousand dollars.  It
+vastly increased the child's sense of importance and satisfaction
+when he discovered she had known nothing of these matters until
+he told her of them.
+
+"Why, where would Judge Price get so much money, Hannibal?" she
+asked, greatly astonished.
+
+"He won't have to get it, Miss Betty; Mr. Mahaffy says he don't
+reckon no one will ever tell who wrote the letter--he 'lows the
+man who done that will keep pretty mum--he just dassent tell!"
+the boy explained.
+
+"No, I suppose not--" and Betty saw that perhaps, after all, the
+judge had not assumed any very great financial responsibility.
+"He can't be a coward, though, Hannibal!" she added, for she
+understood that the risk of personal violence which he ran was
+quite genuine.  She had formed her own unsympathetic estimate of
+him that day at Boggs' race-track; Mahaffy in his blackest hour
+could have added nothing to it.  Twice since then she had met him
+in Raleigh, which had only served to fix that first impression.
+
+"Miss Betty, he's just like my Uncle Bob was- he ain't afraid of
+nothing!  He totes them pistols of his--loaded--if you notice
+good you can see where they bulge out his coat!"  Hannibal's
+eyes, very round and big, looked up into hers.
+
+"Is he as poor as he seems, Hannibal?" inquired Betty.
+
+"He never has no money, Miss Betty, but I don't reckon he's what
+a body would call pore."
+
+It might have baffled a far more mature intelligence than
+Hannibal's to comprehend those peculiar processes by which the
+judge sustained himself and his intimate fellowship with
+adversity--that it was his magnificence of mind which made the
+squalor of his daily life seem merely a passing phase--but the
+boy had managed to point a delicate distinction, and Betty
+grasped something of the hope and faith which never quite died
+out in Slocum Price's indomitable breast.
+
+"But you always have enough to eat, dear?" she questioned
+anxiously.  Hannibal promptly reassured her on this point.  "You
+wouldn't let me think anything that was not true, Hannibal--you
+are quite sure you have never been hungry?"
+
+"Never, Miss Betty; honest!"
+
+Betty gave a sigh of relief.  She had been reproaching herself
+for her neglect of the child; she had meant to do so much for him
+and had done nothing!  Now it was too late for her personally to
+interest herself in his behalf, yet before she left for the East
+she would provide for him.  If she had felt it was possible to
+trust the judge she would have made him her agent, but even in
+his best aspect he seemed a dubious dependence.  Tom, for quite
+different reasons, was equally out of the question.  She thought
+of Mr. Mahaffy.
+
+"What kind of a man is Mr. Mahaffy, Hannibal?"
+
+"He's an awful nice man, Miss Eetty, only he never lets on; a
+body's got to find it out for his own self--he ain't like the
+judge."
+
+"Does he--drink, too, Hannibal?" questioned Betty.
+
+"Oh, yes; when he can get the licker, he does."  It was evident
+that Hannibal was cheerfully tolerant of this weakness on the
+part of the austere Mahaffy.  By this time Betty was ready to
+weep over the child, with his knowledge of shabby vice, and his
+fresh young faith in those old tatterdemalions.
+
+"But, no matter what they do, they are very, very kind to you?"
+she continued quite tremulously.
+
+"Yes, ma'am--why, Miss Betty, they're lovely men!"
+
+"And do you ever hear the things spoken of you learned about at
+Mrs. Ferris' Sunday-school?"
+
+"When the judge is drunk he talks a heap about 'em.  It's
+beautiful to hear him then; you'd love it, Miss Betty," and
+Hannibal smiled up sweetly into her face.
+
+"Does he have you go to Sunday-school in Raleigh?"
+
+The boy shook his head.
+
+"I ain't got no clothes that's fitten to wear, nor no pennies to
+give, but the judge, he 'lows that as soon as he can make a raise
+I got to go, and he's learning me my letters--but we ain't a
+book.  Miss Betty, I reckon it'd stump you some to guess how he's
+fixed it for me to learn?"
+
+"He's drawn the letters for you, is that the way?"  In spite of
+herself, Betty was experiencing a certain revulsion of feeling
+where the judge and Mahaffy were concerned.  They were doubtless
+bad enough, but they could have been worse.
+
+"No, ma'am; he done soaked the label off one of Mr. Pegloe's
+whisky bottles and pasted it on the wall just as high as my chin,
+so's I can see it good, and he's learning me that-a-ways!  Maybe
+you've seen the kind of bottle I mean--Pegloe's Mississippi
+Pilot: Pure Corn Whisky?"  But Hannibal's bright little face
+fell.  He was quick to see that the educational system devised by
+the judge did not impress Betty at all favorably.  She drew him
+into her arms.
+
+"You shall have my books--the books I learned to read out of when
+I was a little girl, Hannibal!"
+
+"I like learning from the label pretty well," said Hannibal
+loyally.
+
+"But you'll like the books better, dear, when you see them.  I
+know just where they are, for I happened on them on a shelf in
+the library only the other day."
+
+After they had found and examined the books and Hannibal had
+grudgingly admitted that they might possess certain points of
+advantage over the label, he and Betty went out for a walk.  It
+was now late afternoon and the sun was sinking behind the wall of
+the forest that rose along the Arkansas coast.  Their steps had
+led them to the terrace where they stood looking off into the
+west.  It was here that Betty had said good-by to Bruce
+Carrington--it might have been months ago, and it was only days.
+She thought of Charley--Charley, with his youth and hope and high
+courage--unwittingly enough she had led him on to his death!  A
+sob rose in her throat.
+
+Hannibal looked up into her face.  The memory of his own loss was
+never very long absent from his mind, and Miss Betty had been the
+victim of a similarly sinister tragedy.  He recalled those first
+awful days of loneliness through which he had lived, when there
+was no Uncle Bob--soft-voiced, smiling and infinitely
+companionable.
+
+"Why, Hannibal, you are crying--what about, dear?" asked Betty
+suddenly.
+
+"No, ma'am; I ain't crying," said Hannibal stoutly, but his wet
+lashes gave the lie to his words.
+
+"Are you homesick--do you wish to go back to the judge and Mr.
+Mahaffy?"
+
+"No, ma'am--it ain't that--I was just thinking--"
+
+"Thinking about what, dear?"
+
+"About my Uncle Bob."  The small face was very wistful.
+
+"Oh--and you still miss him so much, Hannibal?"
+
+"I bet I do--I reckon anybody who knew Uncle Bob would never get
+over missing him; they just couldn't, Miss Betty!  The judge is
+mighty kind, and so is Mr. Mahaffy--they're awful kind, Miss
+Betty, and it seems like they get kinder all the time--but with
+Uncle Bob, when he liked you, he just laid himself out to let you
+know it!"
+
+"That does make a great difference, doesn't it?" agreed Betty
+sadly, and two piteous tearful eyes were bent upon him.
+
+"Don't you reckon if Uncle Bob is alive, like the judge says, and
+he's ever going to find me, he had ought to be here by now?"
+continued Hannibal anxiously.
+
+"But it hasn't been such a great while, Hannibal; it's only that
+so much has happened to you.  If he was very badly hurt it may
+have been weeks before he could travel; and then when he could,
+perhaps he went back to that tavern to try to learn what had
+become of you.  But we may be quite certain he will never abandon
+his search until he has made every possible effort to find you,
+dear!  That means he will sooner or later come to west Tennessee,
+for there will always be the hope that you have found your way
+here."
+
+"Sometimes I get mighty tired waiting, Miss Betty," confessed the
+boy.  "Seems like I just couldn't wait no longer"  He sighed
+gently, and then his face cleared.  "You reckon he'll come most
+any time, don't you, Miss Betty ?"
+
+"Yes, Hannibal; any day or hour!"
+
+"Whoop!" muttered Hannibal softly under his breath.  Presently he
+asked: "Where does that branch take you to?"  He nodded toward
+the bayou at the foot of the terraced bluff.
+
+"It empties into the river," answered Betty.
+
+Hannibal saw a small skiff beached among the cottonwoods that
+grew along the water's edge and his eyes lighted up instantly.
+He had a juvenile passion for boats.
+
+"Why, you got a boat, ain't you, Miss Betty?"  This was a
+charming and an important discovery.
+
+"Would you like to go down to it?" inquired Betty.
+
+"'Deed I would!  Does she leak any, Miss Betty?"
+
+"I don't know about that.  Do boats usually leak, Hannibal?"
+
+"Why, you ain't ever been out rowing in her, Miss Betty, have
+you?--and there ain't no better fun than rowing a boat!"  They
+had started down the path.
+
+"I used to think that, too, Hannibal; how do you suppose it is
+that when people grow up they forget all about the really nice
+things they might do?"
+
+"What use is she if you don't go rowing in her?" persisted
+Hannibal.
+
+"Oh, but it is used.  Mr. Tom uses it in crossing to the other
+side where they are clearing land for cotton.  It saves him a
+long walk or ride about the head of the bayou."
+
+"Like I should take you out in her, Miss Betty?' demanded
+Hannibal with palpitating anxiety.
+
+They had entered the scattering timber when Betty paused suddenly
+with a startled exclamation, and Hannibal felt her fingers close
+convulsively about his.  The sound she had heard might have been
+only the rustling of the wind among the branches overhead in that
+shadowy silence, but Betty's nerves, the placid nerves of youth
+and perfect health, were shattered.
+
+"Didn't you hear something, Hannibal?" she whispered fearfully.
+
+For answer Hannibal pointed mysteriously, and glancing in the
+direction he indicated, Betty saw a woman advancing along the
+path toward them.  The look of alarm slowly died out of his eyes.
+
+"I think it's the overseer's niece," she told Hannibal, and they
+kept on toward the boat.
+
+The girl came rapidly up the path, which closely followed the
+irregular line of the shore in its windings.  Once she was seen
+to stop and glance back over her shoulder, her attitude intent
+and listening, then she hurried forward again.  Just by the boat
+the three met.
+
+"Good evening!" said Betty pleasantly.
+
+The girl made no reply to this; she merely regarded Betty with a
+fixed stare.  At length she broke silence abruptly.
+
+"I got something I want to say to you--you know who I am, I
+reckon?"  She was a girl of about Betty's own age, with a certain
+dark, sullen beauty and that physical attraction which Tom, in
+spite of his vexed mood, had taken note of earlier in the day.
+
+"You are Bess Hicks," said Betty.
+
+"Make the boy go back toward the house a spell--I got something I
+want to say to you."  Betty hesitated.  She was offended by the
+girl's manner, which was as rude as her speech.  "I ain't going
+to hurt you--you needn't be afraid of me, I got something
+important to say--send him off, I tell you; there ain't no time
+to lose!"  The girl stamped her foot impatiently.
+
+Betty made a sign to Hannibal and he passed slowly back along the
+path.  He went unwillingly, and he kept his head turned that he
+might see what was done, even if he were not to hear what was
+said.
+
+"That will do, Hannibal--wait there--don't go any farther!" Betty
+called after him when he had reached a point sufficiently distant
+to be out of hearing of a conversation carried on in an ordinary
+tone.  "Now, what is it?  Speak quickly if you have anything to
+tell me!"
+
+"I got a heap to say," answered the girl with a scowl.  Her
+manner was still fierce and repellent, and she gave Betty a
+certain jealous regard out of her black eyes which the latter was
+at a loss to explain.  "Where's Mr. Tom?" she demanded.
+
+"Tom?  Why, about the place, I suppose--in his office, perhaps."
+So it had to do with Tom. . . . Betty felt sudden disgust with
+the situation.
+
+"No, he ain't about the place, either!  He done struck out for
+Memphis two hours after sun-up, and what's more, he ain't coming
+back here to-night--"  There was a moment of silence.  The girl
+looked about apprehensively.  She continued, fixing her black
+eyes on Betty: "You're here alone at Belle Plain--you know what
+happened when Mr. Tom started for Memphis last timeI reckon
+you-all ain't forgot that!"
+
+Betty felt a pallor steal over her face.  She rested a hand that
+shook on the trunk of a tree to steady herself.  The girl laughed
+shortly.
+
+"Don't be so scared; I reckon Belle Plain's as good as his if
+anything happened to you?"
+
+By a great effort Betty gained a measure of control over herself.
+She took a step nearer and looked the girl steadily in the face.
+
+"Perhaps you will stop this sort of talk, and tell me what is
+going to happen to me--if you know?" she said quietly.
+
+"Why do you reckon Mr. Norton was shot?  I can tell you why--it
+was all along of you--that was why!"  The girl's furtive glance,
+which searched and watched the gathering shadows, came back as it
+always did to Betty's pale face.  "You ain't no safer than he
+was, I tell you!" and she sucked in her breath sharply between
+her full red lips.
+
+"What do you mean?" faltered Betty.
+
+"Do you reckon you're safe here in the big house alone?  Why do
+you reckon Mr. Tom cleared out for Memphis?  It was because he
+couldn't be around and have anything happen to you--that was
+why!" and the girl sank her voice to a whisper.  "You quit Belle
+Plain now--to-night--just as soon as you can!"
+
+"This is absurd--you are trying to frighten me!"
+
+"Did they stop with trying to frighten Charley Norton?" demanded
+Bess with harsh insistence.
+
+Whatever the promptings that inspired this warning, they plainly
+had nothing to do with either liking or sympathy.  Her dominating
+emotion seemed to be a sullen sort of resentment which lit up her
+glance with a dull fire; yet her feelings were so clearly and so
+keenly personal that Betty understood the motive that had brought
+her there.  The explanation, she found, left her wondering just
+where and how her own fate was linked with that of this poor
+white.
+
+"You have been waiting some time to see me?" she asked.
+
+"Ever since along about noon."
+
+"You were afraid to come to the house?"
+
+"I didn't want to be seen there."
+
+"And yet you knew I was alone."
+
+"Alone--but how do you know who's watching the place?"
+
+"Do you think there was reason to be afraid of that?" asked
+Betty.
+
+Again the girl stamped her foot with angry impatience.
+
+"You're just wastin' time--just foolin' it away--and you ain't
+got none to spare!"
+
+"You must tell me what I have to fear--I must know more or I
+shall stay just where I am!"
+
+"Well, then, stay!" The girl turned away, and then as quickly
+turned back and faced Betty once more.  "I reckon he'd kill me if
+he knew--I reckon I've earned that already--"
+
+"Of whom are you speaking?"
+
+"He'll have you away from here to-night!"
+
+"He? . . . who? . . . and what if I refuse to go?"
+
+"Did they ask Charley Norton whether he wanted to live or die?"
+came the sinister question.
+
+A shiver passed through Betty.  She was seeing it all again
+--Charley as he groped among the graves with the hand of death
+heavy upon him.
+
+A moment later she was alone.  The girl had disappeared.  There
+was only the shifting shadows as the wind tossed the branches of
+the trees, and the bands of golden light that slanted along the
+empty path.  The fear of the unknown leaped up afresh in Betty's
+soul, in an instant her flying feet had borne her to the boy's
+side.
+
+"Come--come quick, Hannibal!" she gasped out, and seized his
+hand.
+
+"What is it, Miss Betty?  What's the matter?" asked Hannibal as
+they fled panting up the terraces.
+
+"I don't know--only we must get away from here just as soon as we
+can!"  Then, seeing the look of alarm on the child's face, she
+added more quietly, "Don't be frightened, dear, only we must go
+away from Belle Plain at once."  But where they were to go, she
+had not considered.
+
+Reaching the house, they stole up to Betty's room.  Her
+well-filled purse was the important thing; that, together with
+some necessary clothing, went into a small hand-bag.
+
+"You must carry this, Hannibal; if any one sees us leave the
+house they'll think it something you are taking away," she
+explained.  Hannibal nodded understandingly.
+
+"Don't you trust your niggers, Miss Betty?" he whispered as they
+went from the room.
+
+"I only trust you, dear!"
+
+"What makes you go?  Was it something that woman told you?  Are
+they coming after us, Miss Betty?  Is it Captain Murrell?"
+
+"Captain Murrell?"  There was less of mystery now, but more of
+terror, and her hand stole up to her heart, and, white and slim,
+rested against the black fabric of her dress.
+
+"Don't you be scared, Miss Betty!" said Hannibal.
+
+They went silently from the house and again crossed the lawn to
+the terrace.  Under the leafy arch which canopied them there was
+already the deep purple of twilight.
+
+"Do you reckon it were Captain Murrell shot Mr. Norton, Miss
+Betty?" asked Hannibal in a shuddering whisper.
+
+"Hush--Oh, hush, Hannibal!  It is too awful to even speak of--"
+and, sobbing and half hysterical, she covered her face with her
+hands.
+
+"But where are we going, Miss Betty?" asked the boy.
+
+"I don't know, dear!" she had an agonizing sense of the night's
+approach and of her own utter helplessness.
+
+"I'll tell you what, Miss Betty, let's go to the judge and Mr.
+Mahaffy!" said Hannibal.
+
+"Judge Price?" She had not thought of him as a possible
+protector.
+
+"Why, Miss Betty, ain't I told you he ain't afraid of nothing?
+We could walk to Raleigh easy if you don't want your niggers to
+hook up a team for you."
+
+Betty suddenly remembered the carriage which had taken the judge
+into town; she was sure it had not yet returned.
+
+"We will go to the judge, Hannibal!  George, who drove him into
+Raleigh, has not come back; if we hurry we may meet him on the
+road."
+
+Screened by the thick shadows, they passed up the path that edged
+the bayou; at the head of the inlet they entered a clearing, and
+crossing this they came to the corn-field which lay between the
+house and the highroad.  Following one of the shock rows they
+hurried to the mouth of the lane.
+
+"Hannibal, I don't want to tell the judge why I am leaving Belle
+Plain--about the woman, I mean," said Betty.
+
+"You reckon they'd kill her, don't you, Miss Betty, if they knew
+what she'd done?" speculated the boy.  It occurred to him that an
+adequate explanation of their flight would require preparation,
+since the judge was at all times singularly alive to the
+slightest discrepancy of statement.  They had issued from the
+cornfield now and were going along the road toward Raleigh.
+Suddenly Betty paused.
+
+"Hark!" she whispered.
+
+"It were nothing, Miss Betty," said Hannibal reassuringly, and
+they hurried forward again.  In the utter stillness through which
+they moved Betty heard the beating of her own heart, and the
+soft, and all but inaudible patter of the boy's bare feet on the
+warm dust of the road.  Vague forms that resolved themselves into
+trees and bushes seemed to creep toward them out of the night's
+black uncertainty.  Once more Betty paused.
+
+"It were nothing, Miss Betty," said Hannibal as before, and he
+returned to his consideration of the judge.  He sensed something
+of that intellectual nimbleness which his patron's physical
+make-up in nowise suggested, since his face was a mask that
+usually left one in doubt as to just how much of what he heard
+succeeded in making its impression on him; but the boy knew that
+Slocum Price's blind side was a shelterless exposure.
+
+"You don't think the carriage could have passed us while we were
+crossing the corn-field?" said Betty.
+
+"No, I reckon we couldn't a-missed hearing it," answered
+Hannibal.  He had scarcely spoken when they caught the rattle of
+wheels and the beat of hoofs.  These sounds swept nearer and
+nearer, and then the darkness disgorged the Belle Plain team and
+carriage.
+
+"George!" cried Betty, a world of relief in her tones.
+
+"Whoa, you!" and George reined in his horses with a jerk.  "Who's
+dar?" he asked, bending forward on the box as he sought to pierce
+the darkness with his glance.
+
+"George--"
+
+"Oh, it you, Missy?"
+
+"Yes, I wish you to drive me into Raleigh," said Betty, and she
+and Hannibal entered the carriage.
+
+"All right, Missy.  Yo'-all ready fo' me to go along out o'
+here?"
+
+"Yes--drive fast, George!" urged Betty.
+
+"It's right dark fo' fas' drivin' Missy, with the road jes'
+aimin' fo' to bus' yo' springs with chuckholes!"  He had turned
+his horses' heads in the direction of Raleigh while he was
+speaking.  "It's scandalous black in these heah woods, Missy I
+'clar' I never seen it no blacker!"
+
+The carriage swung forward for perhaps a hundred yards, then
+suddenly the horses came to a dead stop.
+
+"Go along on, dar!" cried George, and struck them with his whip,
+but the horses only reared and plunged.
+
+"Hold on, nigger!" said a rough voice out of the darkness.
+
+"What yo' doin' ?" the coachman gasped.  "Don' yo' know dis de
+Belle Plain carriage?  Take yo' han's offen to dem hosses' bits!"
+
+Two men stepped to the side of the carriage.
+
+"Show your light, Bunker," said the same rough voice that had
+spoken before.  Instantly a hooded lantern was uncovered, and
+Hannibal uttered a cry of terror.  He was looking into the face
+of Slosson, the tavern-keeper.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+PRISONERS
+
+
+In the face of Betty's indignant protest Slosson and the man
+named Bunker climbed into the carriage.
+
+"Don't you be scared, ma'am," said the tavernkeeper, who smelt
+strongly of whisky.  "I wouldn't lift my hand ag'in no good
+looking female except in kindness."
+
+"How dare you stop my carriage?" cried Betty, with a very genuine
+anger which for the moment dominated all her other emotions.  She
+struggled to her feet, but Slosson put out a heavy hand and
+thrust her back.
+
+"There now," he urged soothingly.  "Why make a fuss?  We ain't
+going to harm you; we wouldn't for no sum of money.  Drive on,
+Jim--drive like hell!"  This last was addressed to the man who
+had taken George's place on the box, where a fourth member of
+Slosson's band had forced the coachman down into the narrow space
+between the seat and dashboard, and was holding a pistol to his
+head while he sternly enjoined silence.
+
+With a word to the horses Jim swung about and the carriage rolled
+off through the night at a breakneck' pace.  Betty's shaking
+hands drew Hannibal closer to her side as she felt the surge of
+her terrors rise within her.  Who were these men--where could
+they be taking her--and for what purpose?  The events of the past
+weeks linked themselves in tragic sequence in her mind.
+
+What was it she had to fear?  Was it Tom who had inspired
+Norton's murder?  Was it Tom for whom these men were acting?  Tom
+who would profit greatly by her disappearance or death.
+
+They swept past the entrance at Belle Plain, past a break in the
+wall of the forest where the pale light of stars showed Betty the
+corn-field she and Hannibal had but lately crossed, and then on
+into pitchy darkness again.  She clung to the desperate hope that
+they might meet some one on the road, when she could cry out and
+give the alarm.  She held herself in readiness for this, but
+there was only the steady pounding of the big bays as Jim with
+voice and whip urged them forward.  At last he abruptly checked
+them, and Bunker and Slosson sprang from their seats.
+
+"Get down, ma'am!" said the latter.
+
+"Where are you taking me?" asked Betty, in a voice that shook in
+spite of her efforts to control it.
+
+"You must hurry, ma'am," urged Slosson impatiently.
+
+"I won't move until I know where you intend taking me!" said
+Betty, "If I am to die--"
+
+Mr. Slosson laughed loudly and indulgently.
+
+"You ain't.  If you don't want to walk, I'm man enough fo' to
+tote you.  We ain't far to go, and I've tackled jobs I'd a heap
+less heart fo' in my time," he concluded gallantly.  From the
+opposite side of the carriage Bunker swore nervously.  He desired
+to know if they were to stand there talking all night.  "Shut
+your filthy mouth, Bunker, and see you keep tight hold of that
+young rip-staver," said Slosson.  "He's a perfect eel--I've had
+dealings with him afore!"
+
+"You tried to kill my Uncle Bob--at the tavern, you and Captain
+Murrell.  I heard you, and I seen you drag him to the river!"
+cried Hannibal.
+
+Slosson gave a start of astonishment at this.
+
+"Why, ain't he hateful?" he exclaimed aghast.  "See here, young
+feller, that's no kind of a way fo' you to talk to a man who has
+riz his ten children!"
+
+Again Bunker swore, while Jim told Slosson to make haste.  This
+popular clamor served to recall the tavernkeeper to a sense of
+duty.
+
+"Ma'am, like I should tote you, or will you walk?" he inquired,
+and reaching out his hand took hold of Betty.
+
+"I'll walk," said the girl quickly, shrinking from the contact.
+
+"Keep close at my heels.  Bunker, you tuck along after her with
+the boy."
+
+"What about this nigger?" asked the fourth man.
+
+"Fetch him along with us," said Slosson.  They turned from the
+road while he was speaking and entered a narrow path that led off
+through the woods, apparently in the direction of the river.  A
+moment later Betty heard the carriage drive away.  They went
+onward in silence for a little time, then Slosson spoke over his
+shoulder.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I've riz ten children but none of 'em was like him
+--I trained 'em up to the minute!"  Mr. Slosson seemed to have
+passed completely under the spell of his domestic recollections,
+for he continued with just a touch of reminiscent sadness in his
+tone.  "There was all told four Mrs. Slossons: two of 'em was
+South Carolinians, one was from Georgia, and the last was a widow
+lady out of east Tennessee.  She'd buried three husbands and I
+figured we could start perfectly even."
+
+The intrinsic fairness of this start made its strong appeal.  Mr.
+Slosson dwelt upon it with satisfaction.  "She had three to her
+credit, I had three to mine; neither could crow none over the
+other."
+
+As they stumbled forward through the thick obscurity he continued
+his personal revelations, the present enterprise having roused
+whatever there was of sentiment slumbering in his soul.  At last
+they came out on a wide bayou; a white mist hung above it, and on
+the low shore leaf and branch were dripping with the night dews.
+Keeping close to the water's edge Slosson led the way to a point
+where a skiff was drawn up on the bank.
+
+"Step in, ma'am," he said, when he had launched it.
+
+"I will go no farther!" said Betty in desperation.  She felt an
+overmastering fear, the full horror of the unknown lay hold of
+her, and she gave a piercing cry for help.  Slosson swung about
+on his heel and seized her.  For a moment she struggled to
+escape, but the man's big hands pinioned her.
+
+"No more of that!" he warned, then he recovered himself and
+laughed.  "You could yell till you was black in the face, ma'am,
+and there'd be no one to hear you."
+
+"Where are you taking me?" and Betty's voice faltered between the
+sudden sobs that choked her.
+
+"Just across to George Hicks's."
+
+"For what purpose?"
+
+"You'll know in plenty of time."  And Slosson leered at her
+through the darkness.
+
+"Hannibal is to go with me?" asked Betty tremulously.
+
+"Sure!" agreed Slosson affably.  "Your nigger, too--quite a
+party."
+
+Betty stepped into the skiff.  She felt her hopes quicken--she
+was thinking of Bess; whatever the girl's motives, she had wished
+her to escape.  She would wish it now more than ever since the
+very thing she had striven to prevent had happened.  Slosson
+seated himself and took up the oars, Bunker followed with
+Hannibal and they pushed off.  No word was spoken until they
+disembarked on the opposite shore, when Slosson addressed Bunker.
+"I reckon I can manage that young rip-staver, you go back after
+Sherrod and the nigger," he said.
+
+He conducted his captives up the bank and they entered a
+clearing.  Looking across this Betty saw where a cabin window
+framed a single square of light.  They advanced toward this and
+presently the dark outline of the cabin itself became
+distinguishable.  A moment later Slosson paused, a door yielded
+to his hand, and Betty and the boy were thrust into the room
+where Murrell had held his conference with Fentress and Ware.
+The two women were now its only occupants and the mother, gross
+and shapeless, turned an expressionless face on the intruders;
+but the daughter shrank into the shadow, her burning glance fixed
+on Betty.
+
+"Here's yo' guests, old lady!" said Mr. Slosson.  Mrs. Hicks rose
+from the three-legged stool on which she was sitting.
+
+"Hand me the candle, Bess," she ordered.
+
+At one side of the room was a steep flight of stairs which gave
+access to the loft overhead.  Mrs. Hicks, by a gesture, signified
+that Betty and Hannibal were to ascend these stairs; they did so
+and found themselves on a narrow landing inclosed by a partition
+of rough planks, this partition was pierced by a low door.  Mrs.
+Hicks, who had followed close at their heels, handed the candle
+to Betty.
+
+"In yonder!" she said briefly, nodding toward the door.
+
+"Wait!" cried Betty in a whisper.
+
+"No," said the woman with an almost masculine surliness of tone.
+"I got nothing to say."  She pushed them into the attic, and,
+closing the door, fastened it with a stout wooden bar.
+
+Beyond that door, which seemed to have closed on every hope,
+Betty held the tallow dip aloft, and by its uncertain and
+flickering light surveyed her prison.  The briefest glance
+sufficed.  The room contained two shakedown beds and a stool,
+there was a window in the gable, but a piece of heavy plank was
+spiked before it.
+
+"Miss Betty, don't you be scared," whispered Hannibal.  "When the
+judge hears we're gone, him and Mr. Mahaffy will try to find us.
+They'll go right off to Belle Plain--the judge is always wanting
+to do that, only Mr. Mahaffy never lets him but now he won't be
+able to stop him."
+
+"Oh, Hannibal, Hannibal, what can he do there--what can any one
+do there?"  And a dead pallor overspread the girl's face.  To
+speak of the blind groping of her friends but served to fix the
+horror of their situation in her mind.
+
+"I don't know, Miss Betty, but the judge is always thinking of
+things to do; seems like they was mostly things no one else would
+ever think of."
+
+Betty had placed the candle on the stool and seated herself on
+one of the beds.  There was the murmur of voices in the room
+below; she wondered if her fate was under consideration and what
+that fate was to be.  Hannibal, who had been examining the
+window, returned to her side.
+
+"Miss Betty, if we could just get out of this loft we could steal
+their skiff and row down to the river; I reckon they got just the
+one boat; the only way they could get to us would be to swim out,
+and if they done that we could pound 'em over the head with the
+oars the least little thing sinks you when you're in the water."
+But this murderous fancy of his failed to interest Betty.
+
+Presently they heard Sherrod and Bunker come up from the shore
+with George.  Slosson joined them and there was a brief
+discussion, then an interval of silence, and the sound of voices
+again as the three white men moved back across the field in the
+direction of the bayou.  There succeeded a period of utter
+stillness, both in the cabin and in the clearing, a somber hush
+that plunged Betty yet deeper in despair.  Wild thoughts assailed
+her, thoughts against which she struggled with all the strength
+of her will.
+
+In that hour of stress Hannibal was sustained by his faith in the
+judge.  He saw his patron's powerful and picturesque intelligence
+applied to solving the mystery of their disappearance from Belle
+Plain; it was inconceivable that this could prove otherwise than
+disastrous to Mr. Slosson and he endeavored to share the
+confidence he was feeling with Betty, but there was something so
+forced and unnatural in the girl's voice and manner when she
+discussed his conjectures that he quickly fell into an awed
+silence.  At last, and it must have been some time after
+midnight, troubled slumbers claimed him.  No moment of
+forgetfulness came to Betty.  She was waiting for what--she did
+not know!  The candle burnt lower and lower and finally went out
+and she was left in darkness, but again she was conscious of
+sounds from the room below.  At first it was only a word or a
+sentence, then the guarded speech became a steady monotone that
+ran deep into the night; eventually this ceased and Betty fancied
+she heard sobs.
+
+At length points of light began to show through chinks in the
+logs.  Hannibal roused and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the
+backs of his hands.
+
+"Wasn't you able to sleep none?" he inquired.  Betty shook her
+head.  He looked at her with an expression of troubled concern.
+"How soon do you reckon the judge will know?" he asked.
+
+"Very soon now, dear."  Hannibal was greatly consoled by this
+opinion.
+
+"Miss Betty, he will love to find us--"
+
+"Hark!  What was that?" for Betty had caught the distant splash
+of oars.  Hannibal found a chink in the logs through which by
+dint of much squinting he secured a partial view of the bayou.
+"They're fetching up a keel boat to the shore, Miss Betty--it's a
+whooper!" he announced.  Betty's heart sank, she never doubted
+the purpose for which that boat was brought into the bayou, or
+that it nearly concerned herself.
+
+Half an hour later Mrs. Hicks appeared with their breakfast.  It
+was in vain that Betty attempted to engage her in conversation,
+either she cherished some personal feeling of dislike for her
+prisoner, or else the situation in which she herself was placed
+had little to recommend it, even to her dull mind, and her
+dissatisfaction was expressed in her attitude toward the girl.
+
+Betty passed the long hours of morning in dreary speculation
+concerning what was happening at Belle Plain.  In the end she
+realized that the day could go by and her absence occasion no
+alarm; Steve might reasonably suppose George had driven her into
+Raleigh or to the Bowens' and that she had kept the carriage.
+Finally all her hope centered on Judge Price.  He would expect
+Hannibal during the morning, perhaps when the boy did not arrive
+he would be tempted to go out to Belle Plain to discover the
+reason of his nonappearance.  She wondered what theories would
+offer themselves to his ingenious mind, for she sensed something
+of that indomitable energy which in the face of rebuffs and
+laughter carried him into the thick of every sensation.
+
+At noon, Mrs. Hicks, as sullen as in the morning, brought them
+their dinner.  She had scarcely quitted the loft when a shrill
+whistle pierced the silence that hung above the clearing.  It was
+twice repeated, and the two women were heard to go from the
+cabin.  Perhaps half an hour elapsed, then a step became audible
+on the packed earth of the dooryard; some one entered the room
+below and began to ascend the narrow stairs, and Betty's fingers
+closed convulsively about Hannibal's.  This was neither Mrs.
+Hicks nor her daughter, nor Slosson with his clumsy shufe.  There
+was a brief pause when the landing was reached, but it was only
+momentary; a hand lifted the bar, the door was thrown open, and
+its space framed the figure of a man.  It was John Murrell.
+
+Standing there he regarded Betty in silence, but a deep-seated
+fire glowed in his sunken eyes.  The sense of possession was
+raging through him, his temples throbbed, a fever stirred his
+blood.  Love, such as it was, he undoubtedly felt for her and
+even his giant project with all its monstrous ramifications was
+lost sight of for the moment.  She was the inspiration for it
+all, the goal and reward toward which he struggled.
+
+"Betty!" the single word fell softly from his lips.  He stepped
+into the room, closing the door as he did so.
+
+The girl's eyes were dilating with a mute horror, for by some
+swift intuitive process of the mind, which asked nothing of the
+logic of events, but dealt only with conclusions, Murrell stood
+revealed as Norton's murderer.  Perhaps he read her thoughts, but
+he had lived in his degenerate ambitions until the common
+judgments or the understanding of them no longer existed for him.
+That Betty had loved Norton seemed inconsequential even; it was a
+memory to be swept away by the force of his greater passion.  So
+he watched her smilingly, but back of the smile was the menace of
+unleashed impulse.
+
+"Can't you find some word of welcome for me, Betty?" he asked at
+length, still softly, still with something of entreaty in his
+tone.
+
+"Then it was you--not Tom--who had me brought here!"  She could
+have thanked God had it been Tom, whose hate was not to be feared
+as she feared this man's love.
+
+"Tom--no!" and Murrell laughed.  "You didn't think I'd give you
+up?  I am standing with a halter, about my neck, and all for your
+sake--who'd risk as much for love of you?" he seemed to expand
+with savage pride that this was so, and took a step toward her.
+
+"Don't come near me!" cried Betty.  Her eyes blazed, and she
+looked at him with' loathing.
+
+"You'll learn to be kinder," he exulted.  "You wouldn't see me at
+Belle Plain; what was left for me but to have you brought here?"
+While Murrell was speaking, the signal that had told of his own
+presence on the opposite shore of the bayou was heard again.
+This served to arrest his attention.  A look of uncertainty
+passed over his face, then he made an impatient gesture as if he
+dismissed some thought that had forced itself upon him, and
+turned to Betty.
+
+"You don't ask what my purpose is where you are concerned; have
+you no curiosity on that score?"  She endeavored to meet his
+glance with a glance as resolute, then her eyes sought the boy's
+upturned face.  "I am going to send you down river, Betty.  Later
+I shall join you in New Orleans, and when I leave the country you
+shall go with me--"
+
+"Never!" gasped Betty.
+
+"As my wife, or however you choose to call it.  I'll teach you
+what a man's love is like," he boasted, and extended his hand.
+Betty shrank from him, and his hand fell at his side.  He looked
+at her steadily out of his deep-sunk eyes in which blazed the
+fires of his passion, and as he looked, her face paled and
+flushed by turns.  "You may learn to be kind to me, Betty," he
+said.  "You may find it will be worth your while."  Betty made no
+answer, she only gathered Hanniba closer to her side.  "Why not
+accept what I have to offer, Betty?" again he went nearer her,
+and again she shrank from him, but the madness of his mood was in
+the ascendant.  He seized her and drew her to him.  She struggled
+to free herself, but his fingers tightened about hers.
+
+"Let me go!" she panted.  He laughed his cool laugh of triumph.
+
+"Let you go--ask me anything but that, Betty!  Have you no reward
+for patience such as mine?  A whole summer has passed since I saw
+you first--"
+
+There was the noisy shuffling of feet on the stairs, and
+releasing Betty, Murrell swung about on his heel and faced the
+door.  It was pushed open an inch at a time by a not too
+confident hand and Mr. Slosson thus guardedly presented himself
+to the eye of his chief, whom he beckoned from the room.
+
+"Well?" said Murrell, when they stood together on the landing.
+
+"Just come across to the keel boat!" and Slosson led the way down
+the stairs and from the house.
+
+"Damn you, Joe; you might have waited!" observed the outlaw.
+Slosson gave him a hardened grin.  They crossed the clearing and
+boarded the keel boat which rested against the bank.  As they did
+so, the cabin in the stern gave up a shattered presence in the
+shape of Tom Ware.  Murrell started violently.  "I thought you
+were hanging out in Memphis, Tom?" he said, and his brow darkened
+as, sinister and forbidding, he stepped closer to the planter.
+Ware did not answer at once, but looked at Murrell out of heavy
+bloodshot eyes, his face pinched and ghastly.  At last he said,
+speaking with visible effort,
+
+"I stayed in Memphis until five o'clock this morning."
+
+"Damn your early hours!" roared Murrell.  "What are you doing
+here?  I suppose you've been showing that dead face of yours
+about the neighborhood--why didn't you stay at Belle Plain since
+you couldn't keep away?"
+
+"I haven't been near Belle Plain, I came here instead.  How am I
+going to meet people and answer questions?"  His teeth were
+chattering.  "Is it known she's missing?" he added.
+
+"Hicks raised the alarm the first thing this morning, according
+to the instructions I'd given him."
+
+"Yes?" gasped Ware.  He was dripping from every pore and the
+sickly color came and went on his unshaven cheeks.  Murrell
+dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
+
+"You haven't been at Belle Plain, you say, but has any one seen
+you on the road this morning?"
+
+"No one, John," cried Ware, panting between each word.  There was
+a moment's pause and Ware spoke again.  "What are they doing at
+Belle Plain?" he demanded in a whisper.  Murrell's lips curled.
+
+"I understand there is talk of suicide," he said.
+
+"Good!" cried Ware.
+
+"They are dragging the bayou down below the house.  It looks as
+though you were going to reap the rewards of the excellent
+management you have given her estate.  They have been trying to
+find you in Memphis, so the sooner you show yourself the better,"
+he concluded significantly.
+
+"You are sure you have her safe, John, no chance of discovery?
+For God's sake, get her away from here as soon as you can, it's
+an awful risk you run!"
+
+"She'll be sent down river to-night," said Murrell.
+
+"Captain," began Slosson who up to this had taken no part in the
+conversation.  "When are you going to cross to t'other side of
+the bayou?"
+
+"Soon," replied Murrell.  Slosson laughed.
+
+"I didn't know but you'd clean forgot the Clan's business.  I
+want to ask another question--but first I want to say that no one
+thinks higher or more frequent of the ladies than just me, I'm
+genuinely fond of 'em and I've never lifted my hand ag'in' 'em
+except in kindness."  Mr. Slosson looked at Ware with an
+exceedingly virtuous expression of countenance.  He continued.
+"Yo' orders are that we're to slip out of this a little afore
+midnight, but suppose there's a hitch--here's the lady knowing
+what she knows and here's the boy knowing what he knows."
+
+"There can be no hitch," rasped out Murrell arrogantly.
+
+"I never knew a speculation that couldn't go wrong; and by rights
+we should have got away last night."
+
+"Well, whose fault is it you didn't?" demanded Murrell.
+
+"In a manner it were mine, but the ark got on a sandbank as we
+were fetching it in and it took us the whole damn night to get
+clear."
+
+"Well?" prompted Murrell, with a sullen frown.
+
+"Suppose they get shut of that notion of theirs that the lady's
+done drowned herself, suppose they take to watching the river?
+Or suppose the whole damn bottom drops out of this deal?  What
+then?  Why, I'll tell you what then--the lady, good looking as
+she is, knows enough to make west Tennessee mighty onhealthy for
+some of us.  I say suppose it's a flash in the pan and you have
+to crowd the distance in between you and this part of the world,
+you can't tell me you'll have any use for her then."  Slosson
+paused impressively.  "And here's Mr. Ware feeling bad, feeling
+like hell," he resumed.  "Him and me don't want to be left in no
+trap with you gone God only knows where."
+
+"I'll send a man to take charge of the keel boat.  I can't risk
+any more of your bungling, Joe."
+
+"That's all right, but you don't answer my question," persisted
+Slosson, with admirable tenacity of purpose.
+
+"What is your question, Joe?"
+
+"A lot can happen between this and midnight--"
+
+"If things go wrong with us there'll be a blaze at the head of
+the bayou; does that satisfy you?"
+
+"And what then?"
+
+Murrell hesitated.
+
+"What about the girl?" insisted Slosson, dragging him back to the
+point at issue between them.  "As a man I wouldn't lift my hand
+ag'in' no good looking woman except like I said--in kindness, but
+she can't be turned loose, she knows too much.  What's the word,
+Captain--you say it!" he urged.  He made a gesture of appeal to
+Ware.
+
+"Look for the light; better still, look for the man I'll send."
+And with this Murrell would have turned away, but Slosson
+detained him.
+
+"Who'll he be?"
+
+"Some fellow who knows the river."
+
+"And if it's the light?" asked the tavern-keeper in a hoarse
+undertone.  Again he looked toward Ware, who, dry-lipped and
+ashen, was regarding him steadfastly.  Glance met glance, for a
+brief instant they looked deep into each other's eyes and then
+the hand Slosson had rested on Murrell's shoulder dropped at his
+side.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+THE JUDGE MEETS THE SITUATION
+
+
+The judge's and Mr. Mahaffy's celebration of the former's
+rehabilitated credit had occupied the shank of the evening, the
+small hours of the night, and that part of the succeeding day
+which the southwest described as soon in the morning; and as the
+stone jug, in which were garnered the spoils of the highly
+confidential but entirely misleading conversation which the judge
+had held with Mr. Pegloe after his return from Belle Plain, lost
+in weight, it might have been observed that he and Mr. Mahaffy
+seemed to gain in that nice sense of equity which should form the
+basis of all human relations.  The judge watched Mr. Mahaffy, and
+Mr. Mahaffy watched the judge, each trustfully placing the
+regulation of his private conduct in the hands of his friend, as
+the one most likely to be affected by the rectitude of his acts.
+
+Probably so extensive a consumption of Mr. Pegloe's corn whisky
+had never been accomplished with greater highmindedness.  They
+honorably split the last glass, the judge scorning to set up any
+technical claim to it as his exclusive property; then he stared
+at Mahaffy, while Mahaffy, dark-visaged and forbidding, stared
+back at him.
+
+The judge sighed deeply.  He took up the jug and inverted it.  A
+stray drop or so fell languidly into his glass.
+
+"Try squeezing it, Price," said Mahaffy.
+
+The judge shook the jug, it gave forth an empty sound, and he
+sighed again; he attempted to peer into it, closing one watery
+eye as he tilted it toward the light.
+
+"I wonder no Yankee has ever thought to invent a jug with a glass
+bottom," he observed.
+
+"What for?" asked Mahaffy.
+
+"You astonish me, Solomon," exclaimed the judge.  "Coming as you
+do from that section which invented the wooden nutmeg, and an
+eight-day clock that has been known to run as much as four or
+five hours at a stretch.  I am aware the Yankees are an ingenious
+people; I wonder none of 'em ever thought of a jug with a glass
+bottom, so that when a body holds it up to the light he can see
+at a glance whether it is empty or not.  Do you reckon Pegloe has
+sufficient confidence to fill the jug again for us?"
+
+But Mahaffy's expression indicated no great confidence in Mr.
+Pegloe's confidence.
+
+"Credit," began the judge, "is proverbially shy; still it may
+sometimes be increased, like the muscles of the body and the
+mental faculties, by judicious use.  I've always regarded Pegloe
+as a cheap mind.  I hope I have done him an injustice."  He put
+on his hat, and tucking the jug under his arm, went from the
+house.
+
+Ten or fifteen minutes elapsed.  Mahaffy considered this a good
+sign, it didn't take long to say no, he reflected.  Another ten
+or fifteen elapsed.  Mahaffy lost heart.  Then there came a hasty
+step beyond the door, it was thrown violently open, and the judge
+precipitated himself into the room.  A glance showed Mahaffy that
+he was laboring under intense excitement.
+
+"Solomon, I bring shocking news.  God knows what the next few
+hours may reveal!" cried the judge, mopping his brow.  "Miss
+Malroy has disappeared from Belle Plain, and Hannibal has gone
+with her!"
+
+"Where have they gone?" asked Mahaffy, and his long jaw dropped.
+
+"Would to God I had an answer ready for that question, Solomon!"
+answered the judge, with a melancholy shake of the head.  He
+gazed down on his friend with an air of large tolerance.  "I am
+going to Belle Plain, but you are too drunk.  Sleep it off,
+Solomon, and join me when your brain is clear and your legs
+steady."
+
+Mahaffy jerked out an oath, and lifting himself off his chair,
+stood erect.  He snatched up his hat.
+
+"Stuff your pistols into your pockets, and come on, Price!" he
+said, and stalked toward the door.
+
+He flitted up the street, and the judge puffed and panted in his
+wake.  They gained the edge of the village without speech.
+
+"There is mystery and rascality here!" said the judge.
+
+"What do you know, Price, and where did you hear this?" Mahaffy
+shot the question back over his shoulder.
+
+"At Pegloe's, the Belle Plain overseer had just fetched the news
+into town."
+
+Again they were silent, all their energies being absorbed by the
+physical exertion they were making.  The road danced before their
+burning eyes, it seemed to be uncoiling itself serpentwise with
+hideous undulations.  Mr. Mahaffy was conscious that the judge,
+of whom he caught a blurred vision now at his right side, now at
+his left, was laboring painfully in the heat and dust, the breath
+whistling from between his parched lips.
+
+"You're just ripe for apoplexy, Price!" he snarled, moderating
+his pace.
+
+"Go on," said the judge, with stolid resolution.
+
+Two miles out of the village they came to a roadside spring, here
+they paused for an instant.  Mahaffy scooped up handfuls of the
+clear water and sucked it down greedily.  The judge dropped on
+his stomach and buried his face in the tiny pool, gulping up
+great thirsty swallows.  After a long breathless instant he stood
+erect, with drops of moisture clinging to his nose and eyebrows.
+Mahaffy was a dozen paces down the road, hurrying forward again
+with relentless vigor.  The judge shuffled after him.  The tracks
+they left in the dust crossed and re-crossed the road, but
+presently the slanting lines of their advance straightened, the
+judge gained and held a fixed place at Mahaffy's right, a step or
+so in the rear.  His oppulent fancy began to deal with the
+situation.
+
+"If anything happens to the child, the man responsible for it
+would better never been born--I'll pursue him with undiminished
+energy from this moment forth!" he panted.
+
+"What could happen to him, Price?" asked Mahaffy.
+
+"God knows, poor little lad!"
+
+"Will you shut up!" cried Mahaffy savagely.
+
+"Solomon!"
+
+"Why do you go building on that idea?  Why should any one harm
+him--what earthly purpose--"
+
+"I tell you, Solomon, we are the pivotal point in a vast circle
+of crime.  This is a blow at me--this is revenge, sir, neither
+more nor less!  They have struck at me through the boy, it is as
+plain as day."
+
+"What did the overseer say?"
+
+"Just that they found Miss Malroy gone from Belle Plain this
+morning, and the boy with her."
+
+"This is like you, Price!  How do you know they haven't spent the
+night at some neighbor's?"
+
+"The nearest neighbor is five or six miles distant.  Miss Malroy
+and Hannibal were seen along about dusk in the grounds at Belle
+Plain, do you mean to tell me you consider it likely that they
+set out on foot at that hour, and without a word to any one, to
+make a visit?" inquired the judge; but Mahaffy did not contend
+for this point.
+
+"What are you going to do first, Price?"
+
+"Have a look over the grounds, and talk with the slaves."
+
+"Where's the brother--wasn't he at Belle Plain last night?"
+
+"It seems he went to Memphis yesterday."
+
+They plodded forward in silence; now and again they were passed
+by some man on horseback whose destination was the same as their
+own, and then at last they caught sight of Belle Plain in its
+grove of trees.
+
+All work on the plantation had stopped, and the hundreds of
+slaves--men, women and children--were gathered about the house.
+Among these moved the members of the dominant race.  The judge
+would have attached himself to the first group, but he heard a
+whispered question, and the answer,
+
+"Miss Malroy's lawyer."
+
+Clearly it was not for him to mix with these outsiders, these
+curiosity seekers.  He crossed the lawn to the house, and mounted
+the steps.  In the doorway was big Steve, while groups of men
+stood about in the hall, the hum of busy purposeless talk
+pervading the place.  The judge frowned.  This was all wrong.
+
+"Has Mr. Ware returned from Memphis?" he asked of Steve.
+
+"No, Sah;; not yet."
+
+"Then show me into the library," said the judge with bland
+authority, surrendering his hat to the butler.  "Come along,
+Mahaffy!" he added.  They entered the library, and the judge
+motioned Steve to close the door.  "Now, boy, you'll kindly ask
+those people to withdraw--you may say it is Judge Price's orders.
+Allow no one to enter the house unless they have business with
+me, or as I send for them--you understand?  After you have
+cleared the house, you may bring me a decanter of corn whisky
+--stop a bit--you may ask the sheriff to step here."
+
+"Yes, Sah."  And Steve withdrew.
+
+The judge drew an easy-chair up to the flat-topped desk that
+stood in the center of the room, and seated himself.
+
+"Are you going to make this the excuse for another drunk, Price?
+If so, I feel the greatest contempt for you," said Mahaffy
+sternly.
+
+The judge winced at this.
+
+"You have made a regrettable choice of words, Solomon," he urged
+gently.
+
+"Where's your feeling for the boy?"
+
+"Here!" said the judge, with an eloquent gesture, resting his
+hand on his heart.
+
+"If you let whisky alone, I'll believe you, otherwise what I have
+said must stand."
+
+The door opened, and the sheriff slouched into the room.  He was
+chewing a long wheat straw, and his whole appearance was one of
+troubled weakness.
+
+"Morning," he said briefly.
+
+"Sit down, Sheriff," and the judge indicated a meek seat for the
+official in a distant corner.  "Have you learned anything?" he
+asked.
+
+The sheriff shook his head.
+
+"What you turning all these neighbors out of doors for?" he
+questioned.
+
+"We don't want people tracking in and out the house, Sheriff.
+Important evidence may be destroyed.  I propose examining the
+slaves first--does that meet with your approval?"
+
+"Oh, I've talked with them, they don't know nothing," said the
+sheriff.  "No one don't know nothing."
+
+"Please God, we may yet put our fingers on some villain who
+does," said the judge.
+
+Outside it was noised about that judge Price had taken matters in
+hand--he was the old fellow who had been warned to keep his mouth
+shut, and who had never stopped talking since.  A crowd collected
+beyond the library windows and feasted its eyes on the back of
+this hero's bald head.
+
+One by one the house servants were ushered into the judge's
+presence.  First he interrogated little Steve, who had gone to
+Miss Betty's door that morning to rouse her, as was his custom.
+Next he examined Betty's maid; then the cook, and various house
+servants, who had nothing especial to tell, but told it at
+considerable.  length; and lastly big Steve.
+
+"Stop a bit," the judge suddenly interrupted the butler in the
+midst of his narrative.  "Does the overseer always come up to the
+house the first thing in the morning?"
+
+"Why, not exactly, Sah, but he come up this mo'ning, Sah.  He was
+talking to me at the back of the house, when the women run out
+with the word that Missy was done gone away."
+
+"He joined in the search?"
+
+"Yes, Sah.''
+
+"When was Miss Malroy seen last?" asked the judge.
+
+"She and the young gemman you fotched heah were seen in the
+gyarden along about sundown.  I seen them myself."
+
+"They had had supper?"
+
+"Yes, Sah."
+
+"Who sleeps here?"
+
+"Just little Steve and three of the women, they sleeps at the
+back of the house, Sah.''
+
+"No sounds were heard during the night?"
+
+"No, Sah."
+
+"I'll see the overseer--what's his name?--Hicks?  Suppose you go
+for him!" said the judge, addressing the sheriff.
+
+The sheriff was gone from the room only a few moments, and
+returned with the information that Hicks was down at the bayou,
+which was to be dragged.
+
+"Why?" inquired the judge.
+
+"Hicks says Miss Malroy's been acting mighty queer ever since
+Charley Norton was shot--distracted like!  He says he noticed it,
+and that Tom Ware noticed it."
+
+"How does he explain the boy's disappearance?"
+
+"He reckons she throwed herself in, and the boy tried to drag her
+out, like he naturally would, and got drawed in."
+
+"Humph!  I'll trouble Mr. Hicks to step here," said the judge
+quietly.
+
+"There's Mr. Carrington and a couple of strangers outside who've
+been asking about Miss Malroy and the boy, seems like the
+strangers knowed her and him back yonder in No'th Carolina," said
+the sheriff as he turned away.
+
+"I'll see them."  The sheriff went from the room and the judge
+dismissed the servants.
+
+"Well, what do you think, Price?" asked Mahaffy anxiously when
+they were alone.
+
+"Rubbish!  Take my word for it, Solomon, this blow is leveled at
+me.  I have been too forward in my attempts to suppress the
+carnival of crime that is raging through west Tennessee.  You'll
+observe that Miss Malroy disappeared at a moment when the public
+is disposed to think she has retained me as her legal adviser,
+probably she will be set at liberty when she agrees to drop the
+matter of Norton's murder.  As for the boy, they'll use him to
+compel my silence and inaction."  The judge took a long breath.
+"Yet there remains one point where the boy is concerned that
+completely baffles me.  If we knew just a little more of his
+antecedents it might cause me to make a startling and radical
+move."
+
+Mahaffy was clearly not impressed by the vague generalities in
+which the judge was dealing.
+
+"There you go, Price, as usual, trying to convince yourself that
+you are the center of everything!" he said, in a tone of much
+exasperation.  "Let's get down to business!  What does this man
+Hicks mean by hinting at suicide?  You saw Miss Malroy
+yesterday?"
+
+"You have put your finger on a point of some significance," said
+the judge.  "She bore evidence of the shock and loss she had
+sustained; aside from that she was quite as she has always been."
+
+"Well, what do you want to see Hicks for?  What do you expect to
+learn from him?"
+
+"I don't like his insistence on the idea that Miss Malroy is
+mentally unbalanced.  It's a question of some delicacy--the law,
+sir, fully recognizes that.  It seems to me he is overanxious to
+account for her disappearance in a manner that can compromise no
+one."
+
+Here they were interrupted by the opening of the door, and big
+Steve admitted Carrington and the two men of whom the sheriff had
+spoken.
+
+"A shocking condition of affairs, Mr. Carrington!" said the judge
+by way of greeting.
+
+"Yes," said Carrington shortly.
+
+"You left these parts some time ago, I believe?" continued the
+judge.
+
+"The day before Norton was shot.  I had started home for
+Kentucky.  I heard of his death when I reached Randolph on the
+second bluff," explained Carrington, from whose cheeks the
+weather-beaten bloom had faded.  He rested his hand on the edge
+of the desk and turned to the men who had followed him into the
+room.  "This is the gentleman you wish to see," he said.  and
+stepped to one of the windows; it overlooked the terraces where
+he had said good-by to Betty scarcely a week before.
+
+The two men had paused by the door.  They now advanced.  One was
+gaunt and haggard, his face disfigured by a great red scar, the
+other was a shockheaded individual who moved with a shambling
+gait.  Both carried rifles and both were dressed in coarse
+homespun.
+
+"Morning, sir," said the man with the scar.  "Yancy's my name,
+and this gentleman 'lows he'd rather be known now as Mr.
+Cavendish."
+
+The judge started to his feet.
+
+"Bob Yancy?" he cried.
+
+"Yes, sir, that's me."  The judge passed nimbly around the desk
+and shook the Scratch Hiller warmly by the hand.  "Where's my
+nevvy, sir--what's all this about him and Miss Betty?"  Yancy's
+soft drawl was suddenly eager.
+
+"Please God we'll recover him soon!" said the judge.
+
+By the window Carrington moved impatiently.  No harm could come
+to the boy, but Betty--a shudder went through him.
+
+"They've stolen him."  Yancy spoke with conviction.  "I reckon
+they've started back to No'th Carolina with him--only that don't
+explain what's come of Miss Betty, does it?" and he dropped
+rather helplessly into a chair.
+
+"Bob are just getting off a sick bed.  He's been powerful porely
+in consequence of having his head laid open and then being
+throwed into the Elk River, where I fished him out," explained
+Cavendish, who still continued to regard the judge with unmixed
+astonishment, first cocking his shaggy head on one side and then
+on the other, his bleached eyes narrowed to a slit.  Now and then
+he favored the austere Mahaffy with a fleeting glance.  He seemed
+intuitively to understand the comradeship of their degradation.
+
+"Mr. Cavendish fetched me here on his raft.  We tied up to the
+sho' this morning.  It was there we met Mr. Carrington--I'd
+knowed him slightly back yonder in No'th Carolina," continued
+Yancy.  "He said I'd find Hannibal with you.  I was counting a
+heap on seeing my nevvy."
+
+Carrington, no longer able to control himself, swung about on his
+heel.
+
+"What's been done?" he asked, with fierce repression.  "What's
+going to be done?  Don't you know that every second is precious?"
+
+"I am about to conclude my investigations, sir," said the judge
+with dignity.
+
+Carrington stepped to the door.  After all, what was there to
+expect of these men?  Whatever their interest, it was plainly
+centered in the boy.  He passed out into the hall.
+
+As the door closed on him the judge turned again to the Scratch
+Hiller.
+
+"Mr. Yancy, Mr. Mahaffy and I hold your nephew in the tenderest
+regard, he has been our constant companion ever since you were
+lost to him.  In this crisis you may rely upon us; we are
+committed to his recovery, no matter what it involves."  The
+judge's tone was one of unalterable resolution.
+
+"I reckon you-all have been mighty good and kind to him," said
+Yancy huskily.
+
+"We have endeavored to be, Mr. Yancy--indeed I had formed the
+resolution legally to adopt him should you not come to claim him.
+I should have given him my name, and made him my heir.  His
+education has already begun, under my supervision," and the
+judge, remembering the high use to which he had dedicated one of
+Pegloe's trade labels, fairly glowed with philanthropic fervor.
+
+"Think of that!" murmured Yancy softly.  He was deeply moved.  So
+was Mr. Cavendish, who was gifted with a wealth of ready
+sympathy.  He thrust out a hardened hand to the judge.
+
+"Shake!" he said.  "You're a heap better than you look."  A thin
+ripple of laughter escaped Mahaffy, but the judge accepted Chills
+and Fever's proffered hand.  He understood that here was a simple
+genuine soul.
+
+"Price, isn't it important for us to know why Mr. Yancy thinks
+the boy has been taken back to North Carolina?" said Mahaffy.
+
+"Just what kin is Hannibal to you, Mr. Yancy?" asked the judge
+resuming his seat.
+
+"Strictly speaking, he ain't none.  That he come to live with me
+is all owing to Mr. Crenshaw, who's a good man when left to
+himself, but he's got a wife, so a body may say he never is left
+to himself," began Yancy; and then briefly he told the story of
+the woman and the child much as he had told it to Bladen at the
+Barony the day of General Quintard's funeral.
+
+The judge, his back to the light and his face in shadow, rested
+his left elbow on the desk and with his cbin sunk in his palm,
+followed the Scratch Hiller's narrative with the closest
+attention.
+
+"And General Quintard never saw him--never manifested any
+interest in him?" the words came slowly from the judge's lips, he
+seemed to gulp down something that rose in his throat.  "Poor
+little lad!" he muttered, and again, "Poor little lad!"
+
+"Never once, sir.  He told the slaves to keep him out of his
+sight.  We-all wondered, fo' you know how niggers will talk.  We
+thought maybe he was some kin to the Quintards, but we couldn't
+figure out how.  The old general never had but one child and she
+had been dead fo' years.  The child couldn't have been hers no
+how." Yancy paused.
+
+The judge drummed idly on the desk.
+
+"What implacable hate--what iron pride!" he murmured, and swept
+his hand across his eyes.  Absorbed and aloof, he was busy with
+his thoughts that spanned the waste of yearsyears that seemed to
+glide before him in review, each bitter with its hideous memories
+of shame and defeat.  Then from the smoke of these lost battles
+emerged the lonely figure of the child as he had seen him that
+June night.  His ponderous arm stiffened where it rested on the
+desk, he straightened up in his chair and his face assumed its
+customary expression of battered dignity, while a smile at once
+wistful and tender hovered about his lips.
+
+"One other question," he said.  "Until this man Murrell appeared
+you had no trouble with Bladen?  He was content that you should
+keep the child--your right to Hannibal was never challenged?"
+
+"Never, sir.  All my troubles began about that time."
+
+"Murrell belongs in these parts," said the judge.
+
+"I'd admire fo' to meet him," said Yancy quietly.
+
+The judge grinned.
+
+"I place my professional services at your disposal," he said.
+"Yours is a clear case of felonous assault."
+
+"No, it ain't, sir--I look at it this-a-ways; it's a clear case
+of my giving him the damnedest sort of a body beating!"
+
+"Sir," said the judge, "I'll hold your hat while you are about
+it!"
+
+Hicks had taken his time in responding to the judge's summons,
+but now his step sounded in the hall and throwing open the door
+he entered the room.  Whether consciously or not he had acquired
+something of that surly, forbidding manner which was
+characteristic of his employer.  A curt nod of the head was his
+only greeting.
+
+"Will you sit down?" asked the judge.  Hicks signified by another
+movement of the head that he would not.  "This is a very dreadful
+business!" began the judge softly.
+
+"Ain't it?" agreed Hicks.  "What you got to say to me?" he added
+petulantly.
+
+"Have you started to drag the bayou?" asked the judge.  Hicks
+nodded.  "That was your idea?" suggested the judge.
+
+"No, it wa'n't," objected Hicks quickly.  "But I said she had
+been actin' like she was plumb distracted ever since Charley
+Norton got shot--"
+
+"How?" inquired the judge, arching his eyebrows.  Hicks was
+plainly disturbed by the question.
+
+"Sort of out of her head.  Mr. Ware seen it, too--"
+
+"He spoke of it?"
+
+"Yes, sir; him and me discussed it together."
+
+The judge regarded Hicks long and intently and in, silence.  His
+magnificent mind was at work.  If Betty had been distraught he
+had not observed any sign of it the previous day.  If Ware were
+better informed as to her true mental state why had he chosen
+this time to go to Memphis?
+
+"I suppose Mr. Ware asked you to keep an eye on Miss Malroy while
+he was away from home?" said the judge.  Hicks, suspicious of the
+drift of his questioning, made no answer.  "I suppose you told
+the house servants to keep her under observation?" continued the
+judge.
+
+"I don't talk to no niggers," replied Hicks, "except to give 'em
+my orders."
+
+"Well, did you give them that order?"
+
+"No, I didn't."
+
+The sudden and hurried entrance of big Steve brought the judge's
+examination of Mr. Hicks to a standstill.
+
+"Mas'r, you know dat 'ar coachman George--the big black fellow
+dat took you into town las' evenin'?  I jes' been down at Shanty
+Hill whar Milly, his wife, is carryin' on something scandalous
+'cause George ain't never come home!"  Steve was laboring under
+intense excitement, but he ignored the presence of the overseer
+and addressed himself to Slocum Price.
+
+"Well, what of that?" cried Hicks quickly.
+
+"Thar warn't no George, mind you, Mas'r, but dar was his team in
+de stable this mo'ning and lookin' mighty nigh done up with hard
+driving."
+
+"Yes." interrupted Hicks uneasily; "put a pair of lines in a
+nigger's hands and he'll run any team off its legs!"
+
+"An' the kerriage all scratched up from bein' thrashed through
+the bushes," added Steve.
+
+"There's a nigger for you!" said Hicks.  "She took the rascal out
+of the field, dressed him like he was a gentleman and pampered
+him up, and now first chance he gets he runs off!"
+
+"Ah!" said the judge softly.  "Then you knew this?"
+
+"Of course I knew--wa'n't it my business to know?  I reckon he
+was off skylarking, and when he'd seen the mess he'd made, the
+trifling fool took to the woods.  Well, he catches it when I lay
+hands on him!"
+
+"Do you know when and under what circumstances the team was
+stabled, Mr. Hicks?" inquired the judge.
+
+"No, I don't, but I reckon it must have been along after dark,"
+said Hicks unwillingly.  "I seen to the feeding just after
+sundown like I always do, then I went to supper," Hicks
+vouchsafed to explain.
+
+"And no one saw or heard the team drive in?"
+
+"Not as I know of," said Hicks.
+
+"Mas'r Ca'ington's done gone off to get a pack of dawgs--he 'lows
+hit's might' important to find what's come of George," said
+Steve.
+
+Hicks started violently at this piece of news.
+
+"I reckon he'll have to travel a right smart distance to find a
+pack of dogs," he muttered.  "I don't know of none this side of
+Colonel Bates' down below Girard."
+
+The judge was lost in thought.  He permitted an interval of
+silence to elapse in which Hicks' glance slid round in a furtive
+circle.
+
+"When did Mr. Ware set out for Memphis?" asked the judge at
+length.
+
+"Early yesterday.  He goes there pretty often on business."
+
+"You talked with Mr. Ware before he left?" Hicks nodded.  "Did he
+speak of Miss Malroy?"  Hicks shook his head.  "Did you see her
+during the afternoon?"
+
+"No--maybe you think these niggers ain't enough to keep a man
+stirring?" said Hicks uneasily and with a scowl.  The judge
+noticed both the uneasiness and the scowl.
+
+"I should imagine they would absorb every moment of your time,
+Mr. Hicks," he agreed affably.
+
+"A man's got to be a hog for work to hold a job like mine," said
+Hicks sourly.
+
+"But it came to your notice that Miss Malroy has been in a
+disturbed mental state ever since Mr. Norton's murder?  I am
+interested in this point, Mr. Hicks, because your experience is
+so entirely at variance with my own.  It was my privilege to see
+and speak with her yesterday afternoon; I was profoundly
+impressed by her naturalness and composure."  The judge smiled,
+then he leaned forward across the desk.  "What were you doing up
+here early this morning--hasn't a hog for work like you got any
+business of his own at that hour?"  The judge's tone was suddenly
+offensive.
+
+"Look here, what right have you got to try and pump me?" cried
+Hicks.
+
+For no discernible reason Mr. Cavendish spat on his palms.
+
+"Mr. Hicks," said the judge, urbane and gracious, "I believe in
+frankness."
+
+"Sure," agreed Hicks, mollified by the judge's altered tone.
+
+"Therefore I do not hesitate to say that I consider you a damned
+scoundrel!" concluded the judge.
+
+Mr. Cavendish, accepting the judge's ultimatum as something which
+must debar Hicks from all further consideration, and being, as he
+was, exceedingly active and energetic by nature, if one passed
+over the various forms of gainful industry, uttered a loud whoop
+and threw himself on the overseer.  There was a brief struggle
+and Hicks went down with the Earl of Lambeth astride of him; then
+from his boot leg that knightly soul flashed a horn-handled
+tickler of formidable dimensions.
+
+The judge, Yancy, and Mahaffy, sprang from their chairs.  Mr.
+Mahaffy was plainly shocked at the spectacle of Mr. Cavendish's
+lawless violence.  Yancy was disturbed too, but not by the moral
+aspects of the case; he was doubtful as to just how his friend's
+act would appeal to the judge.  He need not have been distressed
+on that score, since the judge's one idea was to profit by it.
+With his hands on his knees he was now bending above the two men.
+
+"What do you want to know, judge?" cried Cavendish, panting from
+his exertions.  "I'll learn this parrot to talk up!"
+
+"Hicks," said the judge, "it is in your power to tell us a few
+things we are here to find out."  Hicks looked up into the
+judge's face and closed his lips grimly.  "Mr. Cavendish, kindly
+let him have the point of that large knife where he'll feel it
+most!" ordered the judge.
+
+"Talk quick!" said Cavendish with a ferocious scowl.  "Talk--or
+what's to hinder me slicing open your woozen?" and he pressed the
+blade of his knife against the overseer's throat.
+
+"I don't know anything about Miss Betty," said Hicks in a sullen
+whisper.
+
+"Maybe you don't, but what do you know about the boy?"  Hicks was
+silent, but he was grateful for the judge's question.  From Tom
+Ware he had learned of Fentress' interest in the boy.  Why should
+he shelter the colonel at risk to himself?  "If you please, Mr.
+Cavendish!" said the judge quietly nodding toward the knife.
+
+"You didn't ask me about him," said Hicks quickly.
+
+"I do now," said the judge.
+
+"He was here yesterday."
+
+"Mr. Cavendish-- " and again the judge glanced toward the knife.
+
+"Wait!" cried Hicks.  "You go to Colonel Fentress."
+
+"Let him up, Mr. Cavendish; that's all we want to mow," said the
+judge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+COLONEL FENTRESS
+
+
+The judge had not forgotten his ghost, the ghost he had seen in
+Mr. Saul's office that day he went to the court-house on business
+for Charley Norton.  Working or idling--principally the latter
+--drunk or sober--principally the former--the ghost, otherwise
+Colonel Fentress, had preserved a place in his thoughts, and now
+as he moved stolidly up the drive toward Fentress' big white
+house on the hill with Mahaffy, Cavendish, and Yancy trailing in
+his wake, memories of what had once been living and vital crowded
+in upon him.  Some sense of the wreck that littered the long
+years, and the shame of the open shame that had swept away pride
+and self-respect, came back to him out of the past.
+
+He only paused when he stood on the portico before Fentress' open
+door.  He glanced about him at the wide fields, bounded by the
+distant timber lands that hid gloomy bottoms, at the great log
+barns in the hollow to his right; at the huddle of whitewashed
+cabins beyond; then with his big fist he reached in and pounded
+on the door.  The blows echoed loudly through the silent house,
+and an instant later Fentress' tall, spare figure was seen
+advancing from the far end of the hall.
+
+"Who is it?" he asked.
+
+"Judge Price--Colonel Fentress'' said the judge.
+
+"Judge Price," uncertainly, and still advancing.
+
+"I had flattered myself that you must have heard of me," said the
+judge.
+
+"I think I have," said Fentress, pausing now.
+
+"He thinks he has!" muttered the judge under his breath.
+
+"Will you come in?" it was more a question than an invitation.
+
+"If you are at liberty."  The colonel bowed.  "Allow me," the
+judge continued.  "Colonel Fentress--Mr. Mahaffy, Mr. Yancy and
+Mr. Cavendish."  Again the colonel bowed.
+
+"Will you step into the library?"
+
+"Very good," and the judge followed the colonel briskly down the
+hall.
+
+When they entered the library Fentress turned and took stock of
+his guests.  Mahaffy he had seen before; Yancy and Cavendish were
+of course strangers to him, but their appearance explained them;
+last of all his glance shifted to the judge.  He had heard
+something of those activities by means of which Slocum Price had
+striven to distinguish himself, and he had a certain curiosity
+respecting the man.  It was immediately satisfied.  The judge had
+reached a degree of shabbiness seldom equaled, and but for his
+mellow, effulgent personality might well have passed for a common
+vagabond; and if his dress advertised the state of his finances,
+his face explained his habits.  No misconception was possible
+about either.
+
+"May I offer you a glass of liquor?" asked Fentress, breaking the
+silence.  He stepped to the walnut centertable where there was a
+decanter and glasses.  By a gesture the judge declined the
+invitation.  Whereat the colonel looked surprised, but not so
+surprised as Mahaffy.  There was another silence.
+
+"I don't think we ever met before?" observed Fentress.  There was
+something in the fixed stare his visitor was bending upon him
+that he found disquieting, just why, he could not have told.
+
+But that fixed stare of the judge's continued.  No, the man had
+not changed--he had grown older certainly, but age had not come
+ungracefully; he became the glossy broadcloth and spotless linen
+he wore.  Here was a man who could command the good things of
+life, using them with a rational temperance.  The room itself was
+in harmony with his character; it was plain but rich in its
+appointments, at once his library and his office, while the
+well-filled cases ranged about the walls showed his tastes to be
+in the main scholarly and intellectual.
+
+"How long have you lived here?" asked the judge abruptly.
+Fentress seemed to hesitate; but the judge's glance, compelling
+and insistent, demanded an answer.
+
+"Ten years."
+
+"You have known many men of all classes as a lawyer and a
+planter?" said the judge.  Fentress inclined his head.  The judge
+took a step nearer him.  "People have a great trick of coming and
+going in these western states--all sorts of damned riffraff drift
+in and out of these new lands."  A deadly earnestness lifted the
+judge's words above mere rudeness.  Fentress, cold and distant,
+made no reply.  "For the past twenty years I have been looking
+for a man by the name of Gatewood--David Gatewood."  Disciplined
+as he was, the colonel started violently.  "Ever heard of him,
+Fentress?" demanded the judge with a savage scowl.
+
+"What's all this to me?"  The words came with a gasp from
+Fentress' twitching lips.  The judge looked at him moody and
+frowning.
+
+"I have reason to think this man Gatewood came to west
+Tennessee," he said.
+
+"If so, I have never heard of him."
+
+"Perhaps not under that name--at any rate you are going to hear
+of him now.  This man Gatewood, who between ourselves was a
+damned scoundrel"--the colonel winced--"this man Gatewood had a
+friend who threw money and business in his way--a planter he was,
+same as Gatewood.  A sort of partnership existed between the
+pair.  It proved an expensive enterprise for Gatewood's friend,
+since he came to trust the damned scoundrel more and more as time
+passed--even large sums of his money were in Gatewood's hands--"
+the judge paused.  Fentress' countenance was like stone, as
+expressionless and as rigid.
+
+By the door stood Mahaffy with Yancy and Cavendish; they
+understood that what was obscure and meaningless to them held a
+tragic significance to these two men.  The judge's heavy face,
+ordinarily battered and debauched, but infinitely good-natured,
+bore now the markings of deep passion, and the voice that rumbled
+forth from his capacious chest came to their ears like distant
+thunder.
+
+"This friend of Gatewood's had a wife--"  The judge's voice
+broke, emotion shook him like a leaf, he was tearing open his
+wounds.  He reached over and poured himself a drink, sucking it
+down with greedy lips.  "There was a wife--" he whirled about on
+his heel and faced Fentress again.  "There was a wife,
+Fentress--" he fixed Fentress with his blazing eyes.
+
+"A wife and child.  Well, one day Gatewood and the wife were
+missing.  Under the circumstances Gatewood's friend was well rid
+of the pair--he should have been grateful, but he wasn't, for his
+wife took his child, a daughter; and Gatewood a trifle of thirty
+thousand dollars his friend had intrusted to him!"
+
+There was another silence.
+
+"At a later day I met this man who had been betrayed by his wife
+and robbed by his friend.  He had fallen out of the race--drink
+had done for him--there was just one thing he seemed to care
+about and that was the fate of his child, but maybe he was only
+curious there.  He wondered if she had lived, and married--"
+Once more the judge paused.
+
+"What's all this to me?" asked Fentress.
+
+"Are you sure it's nothing to you?" demanded the judge hoarsely.
+"Understand this, Fentress.  Gatewood's treachery brought ruin to
+at least two lives.  It caused the woman's father to hide his
+face from the world, it wasn't enough for him that his friends
+believed his daughter dead; he knew differently and the shame of
+that knowledge ate into his soul.  It cost the husband his place
+in the world, too--in the end it made of him a vagabond and a
+penniless wanderer."
+
+"This is nothing to me," said Fentress.
+
+"Wait!" cried the judge.  "About six years ago the woman was seen
+at her father's home in North Carolina.  I reckon Gatewood had
+cast her off.  She didn't go back empty-handed.  She had run away
+from her husband with a child--a girl; after a lapse of twenty
+years she returned to her father with a boy of two or three.
+There are two questions that must be answered when I find
+Gatewood: what became of the woman and what became of the child;
+are they living or dead; did the daughter grow up and marry and
+have a son?  When I get my answer it will be time enough to think
+of Gatewood's punishment!"  The judge leaned forward across the
+table, bringing his face close to Fentress' face.  "Look at me
+--do you know me now?"
+
+But Fentress' expression never altered.  The judge fell back a
+step.
+
+"Fentress, I want the boy," he said quietly.
+
+"What boy?"
+
+"My grandson."
+
+"You are mad!  What do I know of him--or you?"  Fentress was
+gaining courage from the sound of his own voice.
+
+"You know who he is and where he is.  Your business relations
+with General Ware have put you on the track of the Quintard lands
+in this state.  You intend to use the boy to gather them in."
+
+"You're mad!" repeated Fentress.
+
+"Unless you bring him to me inside of twenty-four hours I'll
+smash you!" roared the judge.  "Your name isn't Fentress, it's
+Gatewood; you've stolen the name of Fentress, just as you have
+stolen other things.  What's come of Turberville's wife and
+child?  What's come of Turberville's money?  Damn your soul!  I
+want my grandson!  I'll pull you down and leave you stripped and
+bare!  I'll tell the world the false friend you've been--the
+thief you are!  I'll strip you and turn you out of these doors as
+naked as when you entered the world!"  The judge seemed to tower
+above Fentress, the man had shot up out of his deep debasement.
+"Choose!  Choose!" he thundered, his shaggy brows bent in a
+menacing frown.
+
+"I know nothing about the boy," said Fentress slowly.
+
+"By God, you lie!" stormed the judge.
+
+"I know nothing about the boy," and Fentress took a step toward
+the door.
+
+"Stay where you are!" commanded the judge.  "If you attempt to
+leave this room to call your niggers I'll kill you on its
+threshold!"
+
+But Yancy and Cavendish had stepped to the door with an intention
+that was evident, and Fentress' thin face cast itself in haggard
+lines.  He was feeling the judge's terrible capacity, his
+unexpected ability to deal with a supreme situation.  Even
+Mahaffy gazed at his friend in wonder.  He had only seen him
+spend himself on trifles, with no further object than the next
+meal or the next drink; he had believed that as he knew him so he
+had always been, lax and loose of tongue and deed, a noisy tavern
+hero, but now he saw that he was filling what must have been the
+measure of his manhood.
+
+"I tell you I had no hand in carrying off the boy," said Fentress
+with a sardonic smile.
+
+"I look to you to return him.  Stir yourself, Gatewood, or by
+God, I'll hold so fierce a reckoning with you--"
+
+The sentence remained unfinished, for Fentress felt his
+overwrought nerves snap, and giving way to a sudden blind fury
+struck at the judge.
+
+"We are too old for rough and tumble," said the judge, who had
+displayed astonishing agility in avoiding the blow.  "Furthermore
+we were once gentlemen.  At present I am what I am, while you are
+a hound and a blackguard!  We'll settle this as becomes our
+breeding."  He poured himself a second glass of liquor from
+Fentress' decanter.  "I wonder if it is possible to insult you,"
+and he tossed glass and contents in Fentress' face.  The
+colonel's thin features were convulsed.  The judge watched him
+with a scornful curling of the lips.  "I am treating you better
+than you deserve," he taunted.
+
+"To-morrow morning at sun-up at Boggs' racetrack!" cried
+Fentress.  The judge bowed with splendid courtesy.
+
+"Nothing could please me half so well," he declared.  He turned
+to the others.  "Gentlemen, this is a private matter.  When I
+have met Colonel Fentress I shall make a public announcement of
+why this appeared necessary to me; until then I trust this matter
+will not be given publicity.  May I ask your silence?"  He bowed
+again, and abruptly passed from the room.
+
+His three friends followed in his steps, leaving Fentress
+standing by the table, the ghost of a smile on his thin lips.
+
+As if the very place were evil, the judge hurried down the drive
+toward the road.  At the gate he paused and turned on his
+companions, but his features wore a look of dignity that forbade
+comment or question.  He held out his hand to Yancy.
+
+"Sir," he said, "if I could command the riches of the Indies, it
+would tax my resources to meet the fractional part of my
+obligations to you."
+
+"Think of that!" said Yancy, as much overwhelmed by the judge's
+manner as by his words.
+
+"His Uncle Bob shall keep his place in my grandson's life!  We'll
+watch him grow into manhood together."  The judge was visibly
+affected.  A smile of deep content parted Mr. Yancy's lips as his
+muscular fingers closed about the judge's hand with crushing
+force.
+
+"Whoop!" cried Cavendish, delighted at this recognition of
+Yancy's love for the boy, and he gleefully smote the austere
+Mahaffy on the shoulder.  But Mahaffy was dumb in the presence of
+the decencies, he quite lacked an interpreter.  The judge looked
+back at the house.
+
+"Mine!" he muttered.  "The clothes he stands inthe food he
+eats--miine!  Mine!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+THE BUBBLE BURSTS
+
+
+At about the same hour that the judge was hurling threats and
+insults at Colonel Fentress, three men were waiting ten miles
+away at the head of the bayou which served to isolate Hicks'
+cabin.  Now no one of these three had ever heard of Judge Slocum
+Price; the breath of his fame had never blown, however gently, in
+their direction, yet they were preparing to thrust opportunity
+upon him.  To this end they were lounging about the opening in
+the woods where the horses belonging to Ware and Murrell were
+tied.
+
+At length the dip of oars became audible in the silence and one
+of the trio stole down the path, a matter of fifty yards, to a
+point that overlooked the bayou.  He was gone but a moment.
+
+"It's Murrell all right!" he said in an eager whisper.  "Him and
+another fellow--the Hicks girl is rowing them."  He glanced from
+one to the other of his companions, who seemed to take firmer
+hold of themselves under his eye.  "It'll be all right," he
+protested lightly.  "He's as good as ours.  Wait till I give you
+the word."  And he led the way into an adjacent thicket.
+
+Meantime Ware and Murrell had landed and were coming along the
+path, the outlaw a step or two in advance of his friend.  They
+reached the horses and were untying them when the thicket
+suddenly disgorged the three men; each held a cocked pistol; two
+of these pistols covered Murrell and the third was leveled at
+Ware.
+
+"Hues!" cried Murrell in astonishment, for the man confronting
+him was the Clan's messenger who should have been speeding across
+the state.
+
+"Toss up your hands, Murrell," said Hues quietly.
+
+One of the other men spoke.
+
+"You are under arrest!"
+
+"Arrest!"
+
+"You are wanted for nigger-stealing," said the man.  Still
+Murrell did not seem to comprehend.  He looked at Hues in dull
+wonder.
+
+"What are you doing here?" he asked.
+
+"Waiting to arrest you--ain't that plain?" said Hues, with a grim
+smile.
+
+The outlaw's hands dropped at his side, limp and helpless.  With
+some idea that he might attempt to draw a weapon one of the men
+took hold of him, but Murrell was nerveless to his touch; his
+face had gone a ghastly white and was streaked with the markings
+of terror.
+
+"Well, by thunder!" cried the man in utter amazement.
+
+Murrell looked into Hues' face.
+
+"You--you--" and the words thickened on his tongue becoming an
+inarticulate murmur.
+
+"It's all up, John," said Hues.
+
+"No!" said Murrell, recovering himself.  "You may as well turn me
+loose--you can't arrest me!"
+
+"I've done it," answered Hues, with a laugh.  "I've been on your
+track for six months."
+
+"How about this fellow?" asked the man, whose pistol still
+covered Ware.  Hues glanced toward the planter and shook his
+head.
+
+"Where are you going to take me?" asked Murrell quickly.  Again
+Hues laughed.
+
+"You'll find that out in plenty of time, and then your friends
+can pass the word around if they like; now you'll come with me!"
+
+Ware neither moved nor spoke as Hues and his prisoner passed back
+along the path, Hues with his hand on Murrell's shoulder, and one
+of his companions close at his heels, while the third man led off
+the outlaw's horse.
+
+Presently the distant clatter of hoofs was borne to Ware's
+ears--only that; the miracle of courage and daring he had half
+expected had not happened.  Murrell, for all his wild boasting,
+was like other men, like himself.  His bloodshot eyes slid around
+in their sockets.  There across the sunlit stretch of water was
+Betty--the thought of her brought him to quick choking terrors.
+The whole fabric of crime by which he had been benefited in the
+past or had expected to profit in the future seemed toppling in
+upon him, but his mind clutched one important fact.  Hues, if he
+knew of Betty's disappearance, did not connect Murrell with it.
+Ware sucked in comfort between his twitching lips.  Stealing
+niggers!  No one would believe that he, a planter, had a hand in
+that, and for a brief instant he considered signaling Bess to
+return.  Slosson must be told of Murrell's arrest; but he was
+sick with apprehension, some trap might have been prepared for
+him, he could not know; and the impulse to act forsook him.
+
+He smote his hands together in a hopeless, beaten gesture.  And
+Murrell had gone weak--with his own eyes he had seen it--Murrell
+--whom he believed without fear!  He felt that he had been
+grievously betrayed in his trust and a hot rage poured through
+him.  At last he climbed into the saddle, and swaying like a
+drunken man, galloped off.
+
+When he reached the river road he paused and scanned its dusty
+surface.  Hues and his party had turned south when they issued
+from the wood path.  No doubt Murrell was being taken to Memphis.
+Ware laughed harshly.  The outlaw would be free before another
+dawn broke.
+
+He had halted near where Jim had turned his team the previous
+night after Betty and Hannibal had left the carriage; the marks
+of the wheels were as plainly distinguishable as the more recent
+trail left by the four men, and as he grasped the significance of
+that wide half circle his sense of injury overwhelmed him again.
+He hoped to live to see Murrell hanged!
+
+He was so completely lost in his bitter reflections that he had
+been unaware of a mounted man who was coming toward him at a
+swift gallop, but now he heard the steady pounding of hoofs and,
+startled by the sound, looked up.  A moment later the horseman
+drew rein at his side.
+
+"Ware!" he cried.
+
+"How are you, Carrington?" said the planter.
+
+"You are wanted at Belle Plain," began Carrington, and seemed to
+hesitate.
+
+"Yes--yes, I am going there at once--now--" stammered Ware, and
+gathered up his reins with a shaking hand.
+
+"You've heard, I take it?" said Carrington slowly.
+
+"Yes," answered Ware, in a hoarse whisper.  "My God, Carrington,
+I'm heart sick; she has been like a daughter to me!" he fell
+silent mopping his face.
+
+"I think I understand your feeling," said Carrington, giving him
+a level glance.
+
+"Then you'll excuse me," and the planter clapped spurs to his
+horse.  Once he looked back over his shoulder; he saw that
+Carrington had not moved from the spot where they had met.
+
+At Belle Plain, Ware found his neighbors in possession of the
+place.  They greeted him quietly and spoke in subdued tones of
+their sympathy.  The planter listened with an air of such abject
+misery that those who had neither liked nor respected him, were
+roused to a sudden generous feeling where he was concerned, they
+could not question but that he was deeply affected.  After all
+the man might have a side to his nature with which they had never
+come in contact.
+
+When he could he shut himself in his room.  He had experienced a
+day of maddening anxiety, he had not slept at all the previous
+night, in mind and body he was worn out; and now he was plunged
+into the thick of this sensation.  He must keep control of
+himself, for every word he said would be remembered.  In the
+present there was sympathy for him, but sooner or later people
+would return to their sordid unemotional judgments.
+
+He sought to forecast the happenings of the next few hours.
+Murrell's friends would break jail for him, that was a foregone
+conclusion, but the insurrection he had planned was at an end.
+Hues had dealt its death blow.  Moreover, though the law might be
+impotent to deal with Murrell, he could not hope to escape the
+vengeance of the powerful class he had plotted to destroy; he
+would have to quit the country.  Ware gloated in this idea of
+craven flight.  Thank God, he had seen the last of him!
+
+But as always his thoughts came back to Betty.  Slosson would
+wait at the Hicks' place for the man Murrell had promised him,
+and failing this messenger, for the signal fire, but there would
+be neither; and Slosson would be left to determine his own course
+of action.  Ware felt certain that he would wait through the
+night, but as sure as the morning broke, if no word had reached
+him, he would send one of his men across the bayou, who must
+learn of Murrell's arrest, escape, flight--for in Ware's mind
+these three events were indissolubly associated.  The planter's
+teeth knocked together.  He was having a terrible acquaintance
+with fear, its very depths had swallowed him up; it was a black
+pit in which he sank from horror to horror.  He had lost all
+faith in the Clan which had terrorized half a dozen states, which
+had robbed and murdered with apparent impunity, which had
+marketed its hundreds of stolen slaves.  He had utterly collapsed
+at the first blow dealt the organization, but he was still seeing
+Murrell, pallid and shaken.
+
+A step sounded in the hall and an instant later Hicks entered the
+room without the formality of knocking.  Ware recognized his
+presence with a glance of indifference, but did not speak.  Hicks
+slouched to his employer's side and handed him a note which
+proved to be from Fentress.  Ware read and tossed it aside.
+
+"If he wants to see me why don't he come here?" he growled.
+
+"I reckon that old fellow they call Judge Price has sprung
+something sudden on the colonel," said Hicks.
+
+"He was out here the first thing this morning; you'd have thought
+he owned Belle Plain.  There was a couple of strangers with him,
+and he had me in and fired questions at me for half an hour, then
+he hiked off up to The Oaks."
+
+"Murrell's been arrested," said Ware in a dull level voice.
+Hicks gave him a glance of unmixed astonishment.
+
+"No!" he cried.
+
+"Yes, by God!"
+
+"Who'd risk it?"
+
+"Risk it?  Man, he almost fainted dead away--a damned coward.
+Hell!"
+
+"How do you know this?" asked Hicks, appalled.
+
+"I was with him when he was taken--it was Hues the man he trusted
+more than any other!"  Ware gave the overseer a ghastly grin and
+was silent, but in that silence he heard the drumming of his own
+heart.  He went on.  "I tell you to save himself John Murrell
+will implicate the rest of us; we've got to get him free, and
+then, by hell--we ought to knock him in the head; he isn't fit to
+live!"
+
+"The jail ain't built that'll hold him!!" muttered Hicks.
+
+"Of course, he can't be held," agreed Ware.  "And 'he'll never be
+brought to trial; no lawyer will dare appear against him, no jury
+will dare find him guilty; but there's Hues, what about him?"  He
+paused.  The two men looked at each other for a long moment.
+
+"Where did they carry the captain?" inquired Hicks.
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"It looks like the Clan was in a hell-fired hole--but shucks!
+What will be easier than to fix Hues?--and while they're fixing
+folks they'd better not overlook that old fellow Price.  He's got
+some notion about Fentress and the boy."  Mr. Hicks did not
+consider it necessary to explain that he was himself largely
+responsible for this.
+
+"How do you know that?" demanded Ware.
+
+"He as good as said so."  Hicks looked uneasily at the planter.
+He knew himself to be compromised.  The stranger named Cavendish
+had forced an admission from him that Murrell would not condone
+if it came to his knowledge.  He had also acquired a very proper
+and wholesome fear of Judge Slocum Price.  He stepped close to
+Ware's side.  "What'll come of the girl, Tom?  Can you figure
+that out?" he questioned, sinking his voice almost to a whisper.
+But Ware was incapable of speech, again his terrors completely
+overwhelmed him.  "I reckon you'll have to find another overseer.
+I'm going to strike out for Texas," said Hicks.
+
+Ware's eyes met his for an instant.  He had thought of flight,
+too, was still thinking of it, but greed was as much a part of
+his nature as fear; Belle Plain was a prize not to be lightly
+cast aside, and it was almost his.  He lurched across the room to
+the window.  If he were going to act, the sooner he did so the
+better, and gain a respite from his fears.  The road down the
+coast slid away before his heavy eyes, he marked each turn; then
+a palsy of fear shook him, his heart beat against his ribs, and
+he stood gnawing his lips while he gazed up at the sun.
+
+"Do you get what I say, Tom?  I am going to quit these parts,"
+said Hicks.  Ware turned slowly from the window.
+
+"All right, Hicks.  You mean you want me to settle with you, is
+that it?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, I'm going to leave while I can, maybe I can't later on,"
+said Hicks stolidly.  He added: "I am going to start down the
+coast as soon as it turns dark, and before it's day again I'll
+have put the good miles between me and these parts."
+
+"You're going down the coast?" and Ware was again conscious of
+the quickened beating of his heart.  Hicks nodded.  "See you
+don't meet up with John Murrell," said Ware.
+
+"I'll take that chance.  It seems a heap better to me than
+staying here."
+
+Ware looked from the window.  The shadows were lengthening across
+the lawn.
+
+"Better start now, Hicks," he advised.
+
+"I'll wait until it turns dark."
+
+"You'll need a horse."
+
+"I was going to help myself to one.  This ain't no time to stand
+on ceremony," said Hicks shortly.
+
+"Slosson shouldn't be left in the lurch like this--or your
+brother's folks--"
+
+"They'll have to figure it out for themselves same as me,"
+rejoined Hicks.
+
+"You can stop there as you go by."
+
+"No," said Hicks; "I never did believe in this damn foolishness
+about the girl, and I won't go near George's--"
+
+"I don't ask you to go there, you can give them the signal from
+the head of the bayou.  All I want is for you to stop and light a
+fire on the shore.  They'll know what that means.  I'll give you
+a horse and fifty dollars for the job."
+
+Hicks' eyes sparkled, but he only said
+
+"Make it twice that and maybe we can deal."
+
+Racked and tortured, Ware hesitated; but the sun was slipping
+into the west, his windows blazed with the hot light.
+
+"You swear you'll do your part?" he said thickly.  He took his
+purse from his pocket and counted out the amount due Hicks.  He
+named the total, and paused irresolutely.
+
+"Don't you want the fire lighted?" asked Hicks.  He was familiar
+with his employer's vacillating moods.
+
+"Yes," answered Ware, his lips quivering; and slowly, with
+shaking fingers, he added to the pile of bills in Hicks' hand.
+
+"Well, take care of yourself," said Hicks, when the count was
+complete.  He thrust the roll of bills into his pocket and moved
+to the door.
+
+Alone again, the planter collapsed into his chair, breathing
+heavily, but his terrors swept over him and left him with a
+savage sense of triumph.  This passed, he sprang up, intending to
+recall Hicks and unmake his bargain.  What had he been thinking
+of--safety lay only in flight!  Before he reached the door his
+greed was in the ascendant.  He dropped down on the edge of his
+bed, his eyes fixed on the window.  The sun sank lower.  From
+where he sat he saw it through the upper half of the sash,
+blood-red and livid in a mist of fleecy clouds.
+
+It was in the tops of the old oaks now, which sent their shadows
+into his room.  Again maddened by his terrors he started up and
+backed toward the door; but again his greed, the one dominating
+influence in his life, vanquished him.
+
+He watched the sun sink.  He watched the red splendor fade over
+the river; he saw the first stars appear.  He told himself that
+Hicks would soon be gone--if the fire was not to be lighted he
+must act at once!  He stole to the window.  It was dusk now, yet
+he could distinguish the distant wooded boundaries of the great
+fields framed by the darkening sky.  Then in the silence he heard
+the thud of hoofs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+THE KEEL BOAT
+
+
+"PRICE " began Mahaffy.  They were back in Raleigh in the room
+the judge called his office, and this was Mahaffy's first
+opportunity to ease his mind on the subject of the duel, as they
+had only just parted from Yancy and Cavendish, who had stopped at
+one of the stores to make certain purchases for the raft.
+
+"Not a word, Solomon--it had to come.  I am going to kill him.  I
+shall feel better then."
+
+"What if he kills you?" demanded Mahaffy harshly.  The judge
+shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"That is as it may be."
+
+"Have you forgotten your grandson?"  Mahaffy's voice was still
+harsh and rasping.
+
+"I regard my meeting with Fentress as nothing less than a sacred
+duty to him."
+
+"We know no more than we did this morning," said Mahaffy.  "You
+are mixing up all sorts of side issues with what should be your
+real purpose."
+
+"Not at all, Solomon--not at all!  I look upon my grandson's
+speedy recovery as an assured fact.  Fentress dare not hold him.
+He knows he is run to earth at last."
+
+"Price--"
+
+"No, Solomon--no, my friend, we will not speak of it again.  You
+will go back to Belle Plain with Yancy and Cavendish; you must
+represent me there.  We have as good as found Hannibal, but we
+must be active in Miss Malroy's behalf.  For us that has an
+important bearing on the future, and since I can not, you must be
+at Belle Plain when Carrington arrives with his pack of dogs.
+Give him the advantage of your sound and mature judgment,
+Solomon; don't let any false modesty keep you in the background."
+
+"Who's going to second you?" snapped Mahaffy.
+
+The judge was the picture of indifference.
+
+"It will be quite informal, the code is scarcely applicable; I
+merely intend to remove him because he is not fit to live."
+
+"At sun-up!" muttered Mahaffy.
+
+"I intend to start one day right even if I never live to begin
+another," said the judge, a sudden fierce light flashing from his
+eyes.  "I feel that this is the turning point in my career,
+Solomon!" he went on.  "The beginning of great things!  But I
+shall take no chances with the future, I shall prepare for every
+possible contingency.  I am going to make you and Yancy my
+grandson's guardians.  There's a hundred thousand acres of land
+hereabout that must come to him.  I shall outline in writing the
+legal steps to be taken to substantiate his claims.  Also he will
+inherit largely from me at my death."
+
+Something very like laughter escaped from Mahaffy's lips.
+
+"There you go, Solomon, with your inopportune mirth!  What in
+God's name have I if I haven't hope?  Take that from me and what
+would I be?  Why, the very fate I have been fighting off with
+tooth and nail would overwhelm me.  I'd sink into unimportance
+--my unparalleled misfortunes would degrade me to a level with the
+commonest!  No, sir, I've never been without hope, and though
+I've fallen I've always got up.  What Fentress has is based on
+money he stole from me.  By God, the days of his profit-taking
+are at an end!  I am going to strip him.  And even if I don't
+live to enjoy what's mine, my grandson shall!  He shall wear
+velvet and a lace collar and ride his pony yet, by God, as a
+gentleman's grandson should!"
+
+"It sounds well, Price, but where's the money coming from to push
+a lawsuit?"
+
+The judge waved this aside.
+
+"The means will be found, Solomon.  Our horizon is lifting--I can
+see it lift!  Don't drag me back from the portal of hope!  We'll
+drink the stuff that comes across the water; I'll warm the
+cockles of your heart with imported brandy.  I carry twenty
+years' hunger and thirst under my wes-coat and I'll feed and
+drink like a gentleman yet!"  The judge smacked his lips in an
+ecstasy of enjoyment, and dropping down before the table which
+served him as a desk, seized a pen.
+
+"It's good enough to think about, Price," admitted Mahaffy
+grudgingly.
+
+"It's better to do; and if anything happens to me the papers I am
+going to leave will tell you how it's to be done.  Man, there's a
+million of money in sight, and we've got to get it and spend it
+and enjoy it!  None of your swinish thrift for me, but life on a
+big scale--company, and feasting, and refined surroundings!"
+
+"And you are going to meet Fentress in the morning?" asked
+Mahaffy.  "I suppose there's no way of avoiding that?"
+
+"Avoiding it?" almost shouted the judge.  "For what have I been
+living?  I shall meet him, let the consequences be what they may.
+To-night when I have reduced certain facts to writing I shall
+join you at Belle Plain.  The strange and melancholy history of
+my life I shall place in your hands for safe keeping.  In the
+morning I can be driven back to Boggs'."
+
+"And you will go there without a second?"
+
+"If necessary; yes."
+
+"I declare, Price, you are hardly fitted to be at large!  Why,
+you act as if you were tired of life.  There's Yancy--there's
+Cavendish!"
+
+The judge gave him an indulgent but superior smile.
+
+"Two very worthy men, but I go to Boggs' attended by a gentleman
+or I go there alone.  I am aware of your prejudices, Solomon;
+otherwise I might ask this favor of you."
+
+Mr. Mahaffy snorted loudly and turned to the door, for Yancy and
+Cavendish were now approaching the house, the latter with a meal
+sack slung over his shoulder.
+
+"Here, Solomon, take one of my pistols," urged the judge hastily.
+"You may need it at Belle Plain.  Goodby, and God bless you!"
+
+Just where he had parted from Ware, Carrington sat his horse, his
+brows knit and his eyes turned in the direction of the path.  He
+was on his way to a plantation below Girard, the owner of which
+had recently imported a pack of bloodhounds; but this unexpected
+encounter with Ware had affected him strangely.  He still heard
+Tom's stammering speech, he was still seeing his ghastly face,
+and he had come upon him with startling suddenness.  He had
+chanced to look back over his shoulder and when he faced about
+there had been the planter within a hundred yards of him.
+
+Presently Carrington's glance ceased to follow the windings of
+the path.  He stared down at the gray dust and saw the trail left
+by Hues and his party.  For a moment he hesitated; if the dogs
+were to be used with any hope of success he had no time to spare,
+and this was the merest suspicion, illogical conjecture, based on
+nothing beyond his distrust of Ware.  In the end he sprang from
+the saddle and leading his horse into the woods, tied it to a
+sapling.
+
+A hurried investigation told him that five men had ridden in and
+out of that path.  Of the five, all coming from the south, four
+had turned south again, but the fifth man--Ware, in other words
+--had gone north.  He weighed the possible significance of these
+facts.
+
+"I am only wasting time!" he confessed reluctantly, and was on
+the point of turning away, when, on the very edge of the road and
+just where the dust yielded to the hard clay of the path, his
+glance lighted on the print of a small and daintily shod foot.
+The throbbing of his heart quickened curiously.
+
+"Betty!" The word leaped from his lips.
+
+That small foot had left but the one impress.  There were other
+signs, however, that claimed his attention; namely, the
+bootprints of Slosson and his men; and he made the inevitable
+discovery that these tracks were all confined to the one spot.
+They began suddenly and as suddenly ceased, yet there was no
+mystery about these; he had the marks of the wheels to help him
+to a sure conclusion.  A carriage had turned just here, several
+men had alighted, they had with them a child or a woman.  Either
+they had reentered the carriage and driven back as they had come,
+or they had gone toward the :fiver.  He felt the soul within him
+turn sick.
+
+He stole along the path; the terror of the river was ever in his
+thoughts, and the specter of his fear seemed to flit before him
+and lure him on.  Presently he caught his first glimpse of the
+bayou and his legs shook under him; but the path wound deeper
+still into what appeared to be an untouched solitude, wound on
+between the crowding tree forms, a little back from the shore,
+with an intervening tangle of vines and bushes.  He scanned this
+closely as he hurried forward, scarcely conscious that he was
+searching for some trampled space at the water's edge; but the
+verdant wall preserved its unbroken continuity, and twenty
+minutes later he came within sight of the Hicks' clearing and the
+keel boat, where it rested against the bank.
+
+A little farther on he found the spot where Slosson had launched
+the skiff the night before.  The keel of his boat had cut deep
+into the slippery clay; more than this, the impress of the small
+shoe was repeated here, and just beside it was the print of a
+child's bare foot.
+
+He no longer doubted that Betty and Hannibal had been taken
+across the bayou to the cabin, and he ran back up the path the
+distance of a mile and plunged into the woods on his right, his
+purpose being to pass around the head of the expanse of sluggish
+water to a point from which he could later approach the cabin.
+But the cabin proved to be better defended than he had foreseen;
+and as he advanced, the difficulties of the task he had set
+himself became almost insurmountable; yet sustained as he was by
+his imperative need, he tore his way through the labyrinth of
+trailing vines, or floundered across acre-wide patches of green
+slime and black mud, which at each step threatened to engulf him
+in their treacherous depths, until at the end of an hour he
+gained the southern side of the clearing and a firmer footing
+within the shelter of the woods.
+
+Here he paused and took stock of his surroundings.  The two or
+three buildings Mr. Hicks had erected stood midway of the
+clearing and were very modest improvements adapted to their
+owner's somewhat flippant pursuit of agriculture.  While
+Carrington was still staring about him, the cabin door swung open
+and a woman stepped forth.  It was the girl Bess.  She went to a
+corner of the building and called loudly:
+
+"Joe!  Oh, Joe!"
+
+Carrington glanced in the direction of the keel boat and an
+instant later saw Slosson clamber over its side.  The
+tavern-keeper crossed to the cabin, where he was met by Bess, who
+placed in his hands what seemed to be a wooden bowl.  With this
+he slouched off to one of the outbuildings, which he entered.
+Ten or fifteen minutes slipped by, then he came from the shed and
+after securing the door, returned to the cabin.  He was again met
+by Bess, who relieved him of the bowl; they exchanged a few words
+and Slosson walked away and afterward disappeared over the side
+of the keel boat.
+
+This much was clear to the Kentuckian: food had been taken to
+some one in the shed--to Betty and the boy!--more likely to
+George.
+
+He waited now for the night to come, and to him the sun seemed
+fixed in the heavens.  At Belle Plain Tom Ware was watching it
+with a shuddering sense of the swiftness of its flight.  But at
+last the tops of the tall trees obscured it; it sank quickly then
+and blazed a ball of fire beyond the Arkansas coast, while its
+dying glory spread aslant the heavens, turning the flanks of the
+gray clouds to violet and purple and gold.
+
+With the first approach of darkness Carrington made his way to
+the shed.  Hidden in the shadow he paused to listen, and fancied
+he heard difficult breathing from within.  The door creaked
+hideously on its wooden hinges when he pushed it open, but as it
+swung back the last remnant of the day's light showed him some
+dark object lying prone on the dirt floor.  He reached down and
+his hand rested on a man's booted foot.
+
+"George--" Carrington spoke softly, but the man on the floor gave
+no sign that he heard, and Carrington's questioning touch
+stealing higher he found that George--if it were George--was
+lying on his side with his arms and legs securely bound.
+Thinking he slept, the Kentuckian shook him gently to arouse him.
+
+"George?" he repeated, still bending above him.  This time an
+inarticulate murmur answered him.  At the same instant the woolly
+head of the negro came under his fingers and he discovered the
+reason of his silence.  He was as securely gagged as he was
+bound.
+
+"Listen, George--it's Carrington--I am going to take off this
+gag, but don't speak above a whisper--they may hear us!"  And he
+cut the cords that held the gag in place.
+
+"How yo' get here, Mas'r Ca'ington?" asked the negro guardedly,
+as the gag fell away.
+
+"Around the head of the bayou."
+
+"Lawd!" exclaimed George, in a tone of wonder.
+
+"Where's Miss Betty?"
+
+"She's in the cabin yonder--fo' the love of God, cut these here
+other ropes with yo' knife, Mas'r Ca'ington--I'm perishin' with
+'em!"  Carrington did as he asked, and groaning, George sat
+erect.  "I'm like I was gone to sleep all over," he said.
+
+"You'll feel better in a moment.  Tell me about Miss Malroy?"
+
+"They done fetched us here last night.  I was drivin' Missy into
+Raleigh--her and young Mas'r Hazard--when fo' men stop us in the
+road."
+
+"Who were they, do you know?" asked Carrington.
+
+"Lawd--what's that?"
+
+Carrington, knife in hand swung about on his heel.  A lantern's
+light flashed suddenly in his face and Bess Hicks, with a low
+startled cry breaking from her lips, paused in the doorway.
+Springing forward, Carrington seized her by the wrist.
+
+"Hush!" he grimly warned.
+
+"What are you doin' here?" demanded the girl, as she endeavored
+to shake off his hand, but Carrington drew her into the shed, and
+closing the door, set his back against it.  There was a brief
+silence during which Bess regarded the Kentuckian with a kind of
+stolid fearlessness.  She was the first to speak.  "I reckon
+you-all have come after Miss Malroy," she observed quietly.
+
+"Then you reckon right," answered Carrington.  The girl studied
+him from beneath her level brows.
+
+"And you-all think you can take her away from here," she
+speculated.  "I ain't afraid of yo' knife--you-all might use it
+fast enough on a man, but not on me.  I'll help you," she added.
+Carrington gave her an incredulous glance.  "You don't believe
+me?  What's to hinder my calling for help?  That would fetch our
+men up from the keel boat.  No--yo'-all's knife wouldn't stop
+me!"
+
+"Don't be too sure of that," said Carrington sternly.  The girl
+met the menace of his words with soft, fullthroated laughter.
+
+"Why, yo' hand's shakin' now, Mr. Carrington!"
+
+"You know me?"
+
+"Yes, I seen you once at Boggs'."  She made an impatient
+movement.  "You can't do nothing against them fo' men unless I
+help you.  Miss Malroy's to go down river to-night; they're only
+waiting fo' a pilot--you-all's got to act quick!"
+
+Carrington hesitated.
+
+"Why do you want Miss Malroy to escape?" he said.
+
+The girl's mood changed abruptly.  She scowled at him.
+
+"I reckon that's a private matter.  Ain't it enough fo' you-all
+to know that I do?  I'm showing how it can be done.  Them four
+men on the keel boat are strangers in these parts, they're
+waiting fo' a pilot, but they don't know who he'll be.  I've
+heard you-all was a riverman; what's to hinder yo' taking the
+pilot's place?  Looks like yo' was willing to risk yo' life fo'
+Miss Malroy or you wouldn't be here."
+
+"I'm ready," said Carrington, his hand on the door.
+
+"No, you ain't--jest yet," interposed the girl hastily.  "Listen
+to me first.  They's a dugout tied up 'bout a hundred yards above
+the keel boat; you must get that to cross in to the other side of
+the bayou, then when yo're ready to come back yo're to whistle
+three times--it's the signal we're expecting--and I'll row across
+fo' you in one of the skiffs."
+
+"Can you see Miss Malroy in the meantime?"
+
+"If I want to, they's nothin' to hinder me," responded Bess
+sullenly.
+
+"Tell her then--" began Carrington, but Bess interrupted him.
+
+"I know what yo' want.  She ain't to cry out or nothin' when she
+sees you-all.  I got sense enough fo' that."
+
+Carrington looked at her curiously.
+
+"This may be a serious business for your people," he said
+significantly, and watched her narrowly.
+
+"And you-all may get killed.  I reckin if yo' want to do a thing
+bad enough you don't mind much what comes after," she answered
+with a hard little laugh, as she went from the shed.
+
+"Come!" said Carrington to the negro, when he had seen the cabin
+door close on Bess and her lantern; and they stole across the
+clearing.  Reaching the bayou side they began a noiseless search
+for the dugout, which they quickly found, and Carrington turned
+to George.  "Can you swim?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, Mas'r."
+
+"Then go down into the water and drag the canoe farther along the
+shore--and for God's sake, no sound!" he cautioned.
+
+They placed a second hundred yards between themselves and the
+keel boat in this manner, then he had George bring the dug-out to
+the bank, and they embarked.  Keeping within the shadow of the
+trees that fringed the shore, Carrington paddled silently about
+the head of the bayou.
+
+"George," he at length said, bending toward the negro; "my horse
+is tied in the woods on the right-hand side of the road just
+above where you were taken from the carriage last night--you can
+be at Belle Plain inside of an hour."
+
+"Look here, Mas'r Ca'ington, those folks yonder is kin to Boss
+Hicks.  If he get his hand on me first don't you reckon he'll
+stop my mouth?  I been here heaps of times fotchin' letters fo'
+Mas'r Tom," added George.
+
+"Who were the letters for?" asked the Kentuckian, greatly
+surprised.
+
+"They was fo' that Captain Murrell; seems like him and Mas'r Tom
+was mixed up in a sight of business."
+
+"When was this--recently?" inquired Carrington.  He was turning
+this astonishing statement of the slave over in his mind.
+
+"Well, no, Mas'r; seems like they ain't so thick here recently."
+
+"I reckon you'd better keep away from the big house yet a while,"
+said Carrington.  "Instead of going there, stop at the Belle
+Plain landing.  You'll find a raft tied up to the shore, it
+belongs to a man named Cavendish.  Tell him what you know.  That
+I've found Miss Malroy and the boy, tell him to cast off and
+drift down here.  I'll run the keel boat aground the first chance
+I get, so tell him to keep a sharp lookout."
+
+A few minutes later they had separated, George to hurry away in
+search of the horse, and Carrington to pass back along the shore
+until he gained a point opposite the clearing.  He whistled
+shrilly three times, and after an interval of waiting heard the
+splash of oars and presently saw a skiff steal out of the gloom.
+
+"Who's there?"  It was Bess who asked the question.
+
+"Carrington," he answered.
+
+"Lucky you ain't met the other man!" she said as she swept her
+skiff alongside the bank.
+
+"Lucky for him, you mean.  I'll take the oars," added Carrington
+as he entered the skiff.
+
+Slowly the clearing lifted out of the darkness, then the keel
+boat became distinguishable; and Carrington checked the skiff by
+a backward stroke of the oars.
+
+"Hello!" he called.
+
+There was no immediate answer to his hail, and he called again as
+he sent the skiff forward.  He felt that he was risking all now.
+
+"What do you want?" asked a surly voice.
+
+"You want Slosson!" quickly prompted the girl in a whisper.
+
+"I want to see Slosson!" said Carrington glibly and with
+confidence, and once more he checked the skiff.
+
+"Who be you?"
+
+"Murrell sent you," prompted the girl again, in a hurried
+whisper.
+
+"Murrell--"  And in his astonishment Carrington spoke aloud.
+
+"Murrell?" cried the voice sharply.
+
+"--sent me!" said Carrington quickly, as though completing an
+unfinished sentence.  The girl laughed nervously under her
+breath.
+
+"Row closter!" came the sullen command, and the Kentuckian did as
+he was bidden.  Four men stood in the bow of the keel boat, a
+lantern was raised aloft and by its light they looked him over.
+There was a moment's silence broken by Carrington, who asked:
+
+"Which one of you is Slosson?"  And he sprang lightly aboard the
+keel boat.
+
+"I'm Slosson," answered the man with the lantern.  The previous
+night Mr. Slosson had been somewhat under the enlivening and
+elevating influence of corn whisky, but now he was his own
+cheerless self, and rather jaded by the passing of the hours
+which he had sacrificed to an irksome responsibility.  "What word
+do you fetch from the Captain, brother?" he demanded.
+
+"Miss Malroy is to be taken down river," responded Carrington.
+Slosson swore with surpassing fluency.
+
+"Say, we're five able-bodied men risking our necks to oblige him!
+You can get married a damn sight easier than this if you go about
+it right--I've done it lots of times."  Not understanding the
+significance of Slosson's allusion to his own matrimonial career,
+Carrington held his peace.  The tavern-beeper swore again with
+unimpaired vigor.  "You'll find mighty few men with more
+experience than me," he asserted, shaking his head.  "But if you
+say the word--"
+
+"I'm all for getting shut of this!" answered Carrington promptly,
+with a sweep of his arm.  "I call these pretty close quarters!"
+Still shaking his head and muttering, the tavernkeeper sprang
+ashore and mounted the bank, where his slouching figure quickly
+lost itself in the night.
+
+Carrington took up his station on the flat roof of the cabin
+which filled the stern of the boat.  He was remembering that day
+in the sandy Barony road--and during all the weeks and months
+that had intervened, Murrell, working in secret, had moved
+steadily toward the fulfilment of his desires!  Unquestionably he
+had been back of the attack on Norton, had inspired his
+subsequent murder, and the man's sinister and mysterious power
+had never been suspected.  Carrington knew that the horse-thieves
+and slave stealers were supposed to maintain a loosely knit
+association; he wondered if Murrell were not the moving spirit in
+some such organization.
+
+"If I'd only pushed my quarrel with him!" he thought bitterly.
+
+He heard Slosson's shuffling step in the distance, a word or two
+when he spoke grufy to some one, and a moment later he saw Betty
+and the boy, their forms darkly silhouetted against the lighter
+sky as they moved along the top of the bank.  Slosson, without
+any superfluous gallantry, helped his captives down the slope and
+aboard the keel boat, where he locked them in the cabin, the door
+of which fastened with a hasp and wooden peg.
+
+"You're boss now, pardner!" he said, joining Carrington at the
+steering oar.
+
+"We'll cast off then," answered Carrington.
+
+Thus far nothing had occurred to mar his plans.  If they could
+but quit the bayou before the arrival of the man whose place he
+had taken, the rest would be if not easy of accomplishment, at
+least within the realm of the possible.
+
+"I reckon you're a river-man?" observed Slosson.
+
+"All my life."
+
+The line had been cast off, and the crew with their setting poles
+were forcing the boat away from the bank.  All was quietly done;
+except for an occasional order from Carrington no word was
+spoken, and soon the unwieldy craft glided into the sluggish
+current and gathered way.  Mr. Slosson, who clearly regarded his
+relation to the adventure as being of an official character,
+continued to stand at Carrington's elbow.
+
+"What have we, between here and the river?" inquired the latter.
+It was best, he felt, not to give Slosson an opportunity to ask
+questions.
+
+"It narrows considerably, pardner, but it's a straight course,"
+said Slosson.  "Black in yonder, ain't it?" he added, nodding
+ahead.
+
+The shores drew rapidly together; they were leaving the lakelike
+expanse behind.  In the silence, above the rustling of the trees,
+Carrington heard the first fret of 'the river against its bank.
+Slosson yawned prodigiously.
+
+"I reckon you ain't needing me?" he said.
+
+"Better go up in the bow and get some sleep," advised Carrington,
+and Slosson, nothing loath, clambered down from the roof of the
+cabin and stumbled forward.
+
+The ceaseless murmur of the rushing waters grew in the stillness
+as the keel boat drew nearer the hurrying yellow flood, and the
+beat of the Kentuckian's pulse quickened.  Would he find the raft
+there?  He glanced back over the way they had come.  The dark
+ranks of the forest walled off the clearing, but across the water
+a dim point of light was visible.  He fixed its position as
+somewhere near the head of the bayou.  Apparently it was a
+lantern, but as he looked a ruddy glow crept up against the
+sky-line.
+
+From the bow Bunker had been observing this singular phenomenon.
+Suddenly he bent and roused Slosson, who had fallen asleep.  The
+tavern-keeper sprang to his feet and Bunker pointed without
+speaking.
+
+"Mebby you can tell me what that light back yonder means?" cried
+Slosson, addressing himself to Carrington; as he spoke he
+snatched up his rifle.
+
+"That's what I'm trying to make out," answered Carrington.
+
+"Hell!" cried Slosson, and tossed his gun to his shoulder.
+
+What seemed to be a breath of wind lifted a stray lock of
+Carrington's hair, but his pistol answered Slosson in the same
+second.  He fired at the huddle of men in the bow of the boat and
+one of them pitched forward with his arms outspread.
+
+"Keep back, you!" he said, and dropped off the cabin roof.
+
+His promptness had bred a momentary panic, then Slosson's
+bull-like voice began to roar commands; but in that brief instant
+of surprise and shock Carrington had found and withdrawn the
+wooden peg that fastened the cabin door.  He had scarcely done
+this when Slosson came tramping aft supported by the three men.
+
+Calling to Betty and Hannibal to escape in the skiff which was
+towing astern the Kentuckian rushed toward the bow.  At his back
+he heard the door creak on its hinges as it was pushed open by
+Betty and the boy, and again he called to them to escape by the
+skiff.  The fret of the current had grown steadily and from
+beneath the wide-flung branches of the trees which here met above
+his head, Carrington caught sight of the starspecked arch of the
+heavens beyond.  They were issuing from the bayou.  He felt the
+river snatch at the keel boat, the buffeting of some swift eddy,
+and saw the blunt bow swing off to the south as they were plunged
+into the black shore shadows.
+
+But what he did not see was a big muscular hand which had thrust
+itself out of the impenetrable gloom and clutched the side of the
+keel boat.  Coincident with this there arose a perfect babel of
+voices, high-pitched and shrill.
+
+"Sho--I bet it's him!  Sho'--it's Uncle Bob's nevvy!  Sho', you
+can hear 'em!  Sho', they're shootin' guns!  Sho'!"
+
+Carrington cast a hurried glance in the direction of these
+sounds.  There between the boat and the shore the dim outline of
+a raft was taking shape.  It was now canopied by a wealth of pale
+gray smoke that faded from before his eyes as the darkness
+lifted.  Turning, he saw Slosson and his men clearly.  Surprise
+and consternation was depicted on each face.
+
+The light increased.  From the flat stone hearth of the raft
+ascended a tall column of flame which rendered visible six pygmy
+figures, tow-headed and wonderfully vocal, who were toiling like
+mad at the huge sweeps.  The light showed more than this.  It
+showed a lady of plump and pleasing presence smoking a cobpipe
+while she fed the fire from a tick stuffed with straw.  It showed
+two bark shanties, a line between them decorated with the
+never-ending Cavendish wash.  It showed a rooster perched on the
+ridge-pole of one of these shanties in the very act of crowing
+lustily.
+
+Hannibal, who had climbed to the roof of the cabin, shrieked for
+help, and Betty added her voice to his.
+
+"All right, Nevvy!" came the cheerful reply, as Yancy threw
+himself over the side of the boat and grappled with Slosson.
+
+"Uncle Bob!  Uncle Bob!" cried Hannibal.
+
+Slosson uttered a cry of terror.  He had a simple but sincere
+faith in the supernatural, and even with the Scratch Hiller's big
+hands gripping his throat, he could not rid himself of the belief
+that this was the ghost of a murdered man.
+
+"You'll take a dog's licking from me, neighbor?" said Yancy
+grimly.  "I been saving it fo' you!"
+
+Meanwhile Mr. Cavendish, whose proud spirit never greatly
+inclined him to the practice of peace, had prepared for battle;
+Springing aloft he knocked his heels together.
+
+"Whoop!  I'm a man as can slide down a thorny locust and never
+get scratched!" he shouted.  This was equivalent to setting his
+triggers; then he launched himself nimbly and with enthusiasm
+into the thick of the fight.  It was Mr. Bunker's unfortunate
+privilege to sustain the onslaught of the Earl of Lambeth.
+
+The light from the Cavendish hearth continued to brighten the
+scene, for Polly was recklessly sacrificing her best straw tick.
+Indeed her behavior was in every way worthy of the noble alliance
+she had formed.  Her cob-pipe was not suffered to go out and with
+Connie's help she kept the six small Cavendishes from risking
+life and limb in the keel boat, toward which they were powerfully
+drawn.  Despite these activities she found time to call to Betty
+and Hannibal on the cabin roof.
+
+"Jump down here; that ain't no fittin' place for you-all to stop
+in with them gentlemen fightin'!"
+
+An instant later Betty and Hannibal stood on the raft with the
+little Cavendishes flocking about them.  Mr. Yancy's quest of his
+nevvy had taken an enduring hold on their imagination.  For weeks
+it had constituted their one vital topic, and the fight became
+merely a satisfying background for this interesting restoration.
+
+"Sho', they'd got him!  Sho'--he wa'n't no bigger than Richard!
+Sho'!"
+
+"Oh!" cried Betty, with a fearful glance toward the keel boat.
+"Can't you stop them?"
+
+"What fo'?" asked Polly, opening her black eyes very wide.
+
+"Bless yo' tender heart!-you don't need to worry none, we got
+them strange gentlemen licked like they was a passel of children!
+Connie, you-all mind that fire!"
+
+She accurately judged the outcome of the fight.  The boat was
+little better than a shambles with the havoc that had been
+wrought there when Yancy and Carrington dropped over its side to
+the raft.  Cavendish followed them, whooping his triumph as he
+came.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+THE RAFT AGAIN
+
+
+Yancy and Cavendish threw themselves on the sweeps and worked the
+raft clear of the keel boat, then the turbulent current seized
+the smaller craft and whirled it away into the night; as its
+black bulk receded from before his eyes the Earl of Lambeth spoke
+with the voice of authority and experience.
+
+"It was a good fight and them fellows done well, but not near
+well enough."  A conclusion that could not be gainsaid.  He
+added, "No one ain't hurt but them that had ought to have got
+hurt.  Mr. Yancy's all right, and so's Mr. Carrington--who's
+mighty welcome here."  The earl's shock of red hair was bristling
+like the mane of some angry animal and his eyes still flashed
+with the light of battle, but he managed to summon up an
+expression of winning friendliness.
+
+"Mr. Carrington's kin to me, Polly," explained Yancy to Mrs.
+Cavendish.  His voice was far from steady, for Hannibal had been
+gathered into his arms and had all but wrecked the stoic calm
+with which the Scratch Hiller was seeking to guard his emotions.
+
+Polly smiled and dimpled at the Kentuckian.  Trained to a
+romantic point of view she had a frank liking for handsome
+stalwart men.  Cavendish was neither, but none knew better than
+Polly that where he was most lacking in appearance he was richest
+in substance.  He carried scars honorably earned in those
+differences he had been prone to cultivate with less generous
+natures; for his scheme of life did not embrace the millennium.
+
+"Thank God, you got here when you did!" said Carrington.
+
+"We was some pushed fo' time, but we done it," responded the earl
+modestly.  He added, "What now?--do we make a landing?"
+
+"No--unless it interferes with your plans not to.  I 'want to get
+around the next bend before we tie up.  Later we'll all go back.
+Can I count on you?"
+
+"You shorely can.  I consider this here as sociable a
+neighborhood as I ever struck.  It pleases me well.  Folks are up
+and doing hereabout."
+
+Carrington looked eagerly around in search of Betty.  She was
+sitting on an upturned tub, a pathetic enough figure as she
+drooped against the wall of one of the shanties with all her
+courage quite gone from her.  He made his way quickly to her
+side.
+
+"La!" whispered Polly in Chills and Fever's ear.  "If that pore
+young thing yonder keeps a widow it won't be because of any
+encouragement she gets from Mr. Carrington.  If I ever seen
+marriage in a man's eye I seen it in his this minute!"
+
+"Bruce!" cried Betty, starting up as Carrington approached.  "Oh,
+Bruce, I am so glad you have come--you are not hurt?"  She
+accepted his presence without question.  She had needed him and
+he had not failed her.
+
+"We are none of us hurt, Betty," he said gently, as he took her
+hand.
+
+He saw that the suffering she had undergone during the preceding
+twenty-four hours had left its record on her tired face and in
+her heavy eyes.  She retained a shuddering consciousness of the
+unchecked savagery of those last moments on the keel boat; she
+was still hearing the oaths of the men as they struggled
+together, the sound of blows, and the dreadful silences that had
+followed them.  She turned from him, and there came the relief of
+tears.
+
+"There, Betty, the danger is over now and you were so brave while
+it lasted.  I can't bear to have you cry!"
+
+"I was wild with fear--all that time on the boat, Bruce--" she
+faltered between her sobs.  "I didn't know but they would find
+you out.  I could only wait and hope--and pray!"
+
+"I was in no danger, dear.  Didn't the girl tell you I was to
+take the place of a man Slosson was expecting?  He never doubted
+that I was that man until a light--a signal it must have been--on
+the shore at the head of the bayou betrayed me."
+
+"Where are we going now, Bruce?  Not the way they went--" and
+Betty glanced out into the black void where the keel boat had
+merged into the gloom.
+
+"No, no--but we can't get the raft back up-stream against the
+current, so the best thing is to land at the Bates' plantation
+below here; then as soon as you are able we can return to Belle
+Plain," said Carrington.
+
+There was an interval broken only by the occasional sweep of the
+great steering oar as Cavendish coaxed the raft out toward the
+channel.  The thought of Charley Norton's murder rested on
+Carrington like a pall.  Scarcely a week had elapsed since he
+quitted Thicket Point and in that week the hand of death had
+dealt with them impartially, and to what end?  Then the miles he
+had traversed in his hopeless journey up-river translated
+themselves into a division of time as well as space.  They were
+just so much further removed from the past with its blight of
+tragic terror.  He turned and glanced at Betty.  He saw that her
+eyes held their steady look of wistful pity that was for the dead
+man; yet in spite of this, and in spite of the bounds beyond
+which he would not let his imagination carry him, the future
+enriched with sudden promise unfolded itself.  The deep sense of
+recovered hope stirred within him.  He knew there must come a day
+when he would dare to speak of his love, and she would listen.
+
+"It's best we should land at Bates' place--we can get teams
+there," he went on to explain.  "And, Betty, wherever we go we'll
+go together, dear.  Cavendish doesn't look as if he had any very
+urgent business of his own, and I reckon the same is true of
+Yancy, so I am going to keep them with us.  There are some points
+to be cleared up when we reach Belle Plain--some folks who'll
+have a lot to explain or else quit this part of the state!  And I
+intend to see that you are not left alone until--until I have the
+right to take care of you for good and all--that's what you want
+me to do one of these days, isn't it, darling?" and his eyes,
+glowing and infinitely tender, dwelt on her upturned face.
+
+But Betty shrank from him in involuntary agitation.
+
+"Oh, not now, Bruce--not now--we mustn't speak of that--it's
+wrong--it's wicked--you mustn't make me forget him!" she cried
+brokenly, in protest.
+
+"Forgive me, Betty, I'll not speak of it again," he said.
+
+"Wait, Bruce, and some time--Oh, don't make me say it," she
+gasped, "or I shall hate myself!" for in his presence she was
+feeling the horror of her past experience grow strangely remote,
+only the dull ache of her memories remained, and to these she
+clung.  They were silent for a moment, then Carrington said:
+
+"After I'm sure you'll be safe here perhaps I'll go south into
+the Choctaw Purchase.  I've been thinking of that recently; but
+I'll find my way back here--don't misunderstand me--I'll not come
+too soon for even you, Betty.  I loved Norton.  He was one of my
+best friends, too," he continued gently.  "But you know--and I
+know--dear, the day will come when no matter where you are I
+shall find you again--find you and not lose you!"
+
+Betty made no answer in words, but a soft and eloquent little
+hand was slipped into his and allowed to rest there.
+
+Presently a light wind stirred the dead dense atmosphere, the
+mist lifted and enveloped the shore, showing them the river
+between piled-up masses of vapor.  Apparently it ran for their
+raft alone.  It was just twenty-four hours since Carrington had
+looked upon such another night but this was a different world the
+gray fog was unmasking--a world of hopes, and dreams, and rich
+content.  Then the thought of Norton--poor Norton who had had his
+world, too, of hopes and dreams and rich content--
+
+The calm of a highly domestic existence had resumed its
+interrupted sway on the raft.  Mr. Cavendish, associated in
+Betty's memory with certain earsplitting manifestations of
+ferocious rage, became in the bosom of his family low-voiced and
+genial and hopelessly impotent to deal with his five small sons;
+while Yancy was again the Bob Yancy of Scratch Hill, violence of
+any sort apparently had no place in his nature.  He was deeply
+absorbed in Hannibal's account of those vicissitudes which had
+befallen him during their separation.  They were now seated
+before a cheerful fire that blazed on the hearth, the boy very
+close to Yancy with one hand clasped in the Scratch Hiller's,
+while about them were ranged the six small Cavendishes sedately
+sharing in the reunion of uncle and nevvy, toward which they felt
+they had honorably labored.
+
+"And you wa'n't dead, Uncle Bob?" said Hannibal with a deep
+breath, viewing Yancy unmistakably in the flesh.
+
+"Never once.  I been floating peacefully along with these here
+titled friends of mine; but I was some anxious about you, son."
+
+"And Mr. Slosson, Uncle Bob--did you smack him like you smacked
+Dave Blount that day when he tried to steal me?" asked Hannibal,
+whose childish sense of justice demanded reparation for the
+wrongs they had suffered.
+
+Mr. Yancy extended a big right hand, the knuckle of which was
+skinned and bruised.
+
+"He were the meanest man I ever felt obliged fo' to hit with my
+fist, Nevvy; it appeared like he had teeth all over his face."
+
+"Sho--where's his hide, Uncle Bob?" cried the little Cavendishes
+in an excited chorus.  "Sho--did you forget that?"  They
+themselves had forgotten the unique enterprise to which Mr. Yancy
+was committed, but the allusion to Slosson had revived their
+memory of it.
+
+"Well, he begged so piteous to be allowed fo' to keep his hide, I
+hadn't the heart to strip it off," explained Mr. Yancy
+pleasantly.  "And the winter's comin' onat this moment I can feel
+a chill in the air--don't you-all reckon he's goin' to need it
+fo' to keep the cold out,' Sho', you mustn't be bloody-minded!"
+
+"What was it about Mr. Slosson's hide, Uncle Bob?" demanded
+Hannibal.  "What was you a-goin' to do to that?"
+
+"Why, Nevvy, after he beat me up and throwed me in the river, I
+was some peevish fo' a spell in my feelings fo' him," said Yancy,
+in a tone of gentle regret.  He glanced at his bruised hand.
+"But I'm right pleased to be able to say that I've got over all
+them oncharitable thoughts of mine."
+
+"And you seen the judge, Uncle Bob?" questioned Hannibal.
+
+"Yes, I've seen the judge.  We was together fo' part of a day.
+Me and him gets on fine."
+
+"Where is he now, Uncle Bob?"
+
+"I reckon he's back at Belle Plain by this time.  You see we left
+him in Raleigh along after noon to 'tend tosome business he had
+on hand.  I never seen a gentleman of his weight so truly spry on
+his legs--and all about you, Nevvy; while as to mind!  Sho--why,
+words flowed out of him as naturally as water out of a branch."
+
+Of Hannibal's relationship to the judge he said nothing.  He felt
+that was a secret to be revealed by the judge himself when he
+should see fit.
+
+"Uncle Bob, who'm I going to live with now?" questioned Hannibal
+anxiously.
+
+"That p'int's already come up, Nevvy--him and me's decided that
+there won't be no friction.  You-all will just go on living with
+him."
+
+"But what about you, Uncle Bob?" cried Hannibal, lifting a
+wistful little face to Yancy's.
+
+"Oh, me?--well, you-all will go right on living with me."
+
+"And what will come of Mr. Mahaffy?"
+
+"I reckon you-all will go right on living witli him, too."
+
+"Uncle Bob, you mean you reckon we are all going to live in one
+house?"
+
+"I 'low it will have to be fixed that-a-ways," agreed Yancy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+THE JUDGE RECEIVES A LETTER
+
+
+After he had parted with Solomon Mahaffy the judge applied
+himself diligently to shaping that miracle-working document which
+he was preparing as an offset to whatever risk he ran in meeting
+Fentress.  As sanguine as he was sanguinary he confidently
+expected to survive the encounter, yet it was well to provide for
+a possible emergency--had he not his grandson's future to
+consider?  While thus occupied he saw the afternoon stage arrive
+and depart from before the City Tavern.
+
+Half an hour later Mr. Wesley, the postmaster, came sauntering up
+the street.  In his hand he carried a letter.
+
+"Howdy," he drawled, from just beyond the judge's open door.
+
+The judge glanced up, his quill pen poised aloft.
+
+"Good evening, sir; won't you step inside and be seated?" he
+asked graciously.  His dealings with the United States mail
+service were of the most insignificant description, and in
+personally delivering a letter, if this was what had brought him
+there, he felt Mr. Wesley had reached the limit of official
+courtesy and despatch.
+
+"Well, sir; it looks like you'd never told us more than
+two-thirds of the truth!" said the postmaster.  He surveyed the
+judge curiously.
+
+"I am complimented by your opinion of my veracity," responded
+that gentleman promptly.  "I consider two-thirds an enormously
+high per cent to have achieved."
+
+"There is something in that, too," agreed Mr. Wesley.  "Who is
+Colonel Slocum Price Turberville?"
+
+The judge started up from his chair.
+
+"I have that honor," said he, bowing.
+
+"Well, here's a letter come in addressed like that, and as you've
+been using part of the name I am willing to assume you're legally
+entitled to the rest of it.  It clears up a point that off and on
+has troubled me considerable.  I can only wonder I wa'n't
+smarter;"
+
+"What point, may I ask?"
+
+"Why, about the time you hung out your shingle here, some one
+wrote a letter to General Jackson.  It was mailed after night,
+and when I seen it in the morning I was clean beat.  I couldn't
+locate the handwriting and yet I kept that letter back a couple
+of days and give it all my spare time.  It ain't that I'm one of
+your spying sort--there's nothing of the Yankee about me!"
+
+"Certainly not," agreed the judge.
+
+"Candid, Judge, I reckon you wrote that letter, seeing this one
+comes under a frank from Washington.  No, sir--I couldn't make
+out who was corresponding with the president and it worried me,
+not knowing, more than anything I've had to contend against since
+I came into office.  I calculate there ain't a postmaster in the
+United States takes a more personal interest in the service than
+me.  I've frequently set patrons right when they was in doubt as
+to the date they had mailed such and such � letter."  As Mr.
+Wesley sometimes canceled as many as three or four stamps in a
+single day he might have been pardoned his pride in a brain which
+thus lightly dealt with the burden of official business.  He
+surrendered the letter with marked reluctance.
+
+"Your surmise is correct," said the judge with dignity.  "I had
+occasion to write my friend, General Jackson, and unless I am
+greatly mistaken I have my answer here."  And with a fine air of
+indifference he tossed the letter on the table.
+
+"And do you know Old Hickory?" cried Mr. Wesley.
+
+"Why not?  Does it surprise you?" inquired the judge.  It was
+only his innate courtesy which restrained him from kicking the
+postmaster into the street, so intense was his desire to be rid
+of him.
+
+"No, I don't know as it does, judge.  Naturally a public man like
+him is in the way of meeting with all sorts.  A politician can't
+afford to be too blame particular.  Well, next time you write you
+might just send him my regards--G. W. M. de L. Wesley's
+regards--there was considerable contention over my getting this
+office; I reckon he ain't forgot.  There was speeches made, I
+understand the lie was passed between two United States senators,
+and that a quid of tobacco was throwed in anger."  Having thus
+clearly established the fact that he was a more or less national
+character, Mr. Wesley took himself off.
+
+When he had disappeared from sight down the street, the judge
+closed the door.  Then he picked up the letter.  For along minute
+he held it in his hand, uncertain, fearful, while his mind
+slipped back into the past until his inward searching vision
+ferreted out a handsome soldierly figure--his own.
+
+"That's what Jackson remembers if he remembers anything!" he
+muttered, as with trembling fingers he broke the seal.  Almost
+instantly a smile overspread his battered features.  He hitched
+his chin higher and squared his ponderous shoulders.  "I am not
+forgotten--no, damn it--no!" he exulted under his breath,
+"recalls me with sincere esteem and considers my services to the
+country as well worthy of recognition--" the judge breathed deep.
+What would Mahaffy find to say now!  Certainly this was well
+calculated to disturb the sour cynicism of his friend.  His
+bleared eyes brimmed.  After all his groping he had touched hands
+with the realities at last!  Even a federal judgeship, though not
+an office of the first repute in the south.  had its dignity--it
+signified something!  He would make Solomon his clerk!  The judge
+reached for his hat.  Mahaffy must know at once that fortune had
+mended for them.  Why, at that moment he was actually in receipt
+of an income!
+
+He sat down, the better to enjoy the unique sensation.  Taxes
+were being levied and collected with no other end in view than
+his stipend--his ardent fancy saw the whole machinery of
+government in operation for his benefit.  It was a singular
+feeling he experienced.  Then promptly his spendthrift brain
+became active.  He needed clothes--so did Mahaffy--so did his
+grandson; they must take a larger house; he would buy himself a
+man servant; these were pressing necessities as he now viewed
+them.
+
+Once again he reached for his hat, the desire to rush off to
+Belle Plain was overmastering.
+
+"I reckon I'd be justified in hiring a conveyance from Pegloe,"
+he thought, but just here he had a saving memory of his
+unfinished task; that claimed precedence and he resumed his pen.
+
+An hour later Pegloe's black boy presented himself to the judge.
+He came bearing a gift, and the gift appropriately enough was a
+square case bottle of respectable size.  The judge was greatly
+touched by this attention, but he began by making a most
+temperate use of the tavern-keeper's offering; then as the
+formidable document he was preparing took shape under his hand he
+more and more lost that feeling of Spartan fortitude which had at
+first sustained him in the presence of temptation.  He wrote and
+sipped in complete and quiet luxury, and when at last he had
+exhausted the contents of the bottle it occurred to him that it
+would be only proper personally to convey his thanks to Pegloe.
+Perhaps he was not uninspired in this by ulterior hopes; if so,
+they were richly rewarded.  The resources of the City Tavern were
+suddenly placed at his disposal.  He attributed this to a variety
+of causes all good and sufficient, but the real reason never
+suggested itself, indeed it was of such a perfidious nature that
+the judge, open and generous-minded, could not have grasped it.
+
+By six o'clock he was undeniably drunk; at eight he was sounding
+still deeper depths of inebriety with only the most confused
+memory of impending events; at ten he collapsed and was borne
+up-stairs by Pegloe and his black boy to a remote chamber in the
+kitchen wing.  Here he was undressed and put to bed, and the
+tavernkeeper, making a bundle of his clothes, retired from the
+room, locking the door after him, and the judge was doubly a
+prisoner.
+
+Rousing at last from a heavy dreamless sleep the judge was aware
+of a faint impalpable light in his room, the ashen light of a
+dull October dawn.  He was aware, too, of a feeling of profound
+depression.  He knew this was the aftermath of indulgence and
+that he might look forward to forty-eight hours of utter misery
+of soul, and, groaning aloud, he closed his eyes, Sleep was the
+thing if he could compass it.  Instead, his memory quickened.
+Something was to happen at sunup--he could not recall what it was
+to be, though he distinctly remembered that Mahaffy had spoken of
+this very matter--Mahaffy, the austere and implacable, the
+disembodied conscience whose fealty to duty had somehow survived
+his own spiritual ruin, so that he had become a sort of moral
+sign-post, ever pointing the way yet never going it himself.  The
+judge lay still and thought deeply as the light intensified
+itself.  What was it that Mahaffy had said he was to do at
+sun-up?  The very hour accented his suspicions.  Probably it was
+no more than some cheerless obligation to be met, or Mahaffy
+would not have been so concerned about it.  Eventually he decided
+to refer everything to Mahaffy.  He spoke his friend's name
+weakly and in a shaking voice, but received no answer.
+
+"Solomon!" he repeated, and shifting his position, looked in what
+should have been the direction of the shake-down bed his friend
+occupied.  Neither the bed nor Mahaffy were there.  The judge
+gasped he wondered if this were not a premonition of certain
+hallucinations to which he was not a stranger.  Then all in a
+flash he remembered Fentress and the meeting at Boggs', something
+of how the evening had been spent, and a spasm of regret shook
+him.
+
+"I had other things to think of.  This must never happen again!"
+he told himself remorsefully.
+
+He was wide-awake now.  Doubtless Pegloe had put him to bed.
+Well, that had been thoughtful of Pegloe--he would not forget
+him--the City Tavern should continue to enjoy his patronage.  It
+would be something for Pegloe to boast of that judge Slocum Price
+Turberville always made his place headquarters when in Raleigh.
+Feeling that he had already conferred wealth and distinction on
+the fortunate Pegloe the judge thrust his fat legs over the side
+of his bed and stood erect.  Stooping he reached for his clothes.
+He confidently expected to find them on the floor, but his hand
+merely swept an uncarpeted waste.  The judge was profoundly
+astonished.
+
+"Maybe I've got 'em on, I don't recall taking them off!" he
+thought hopefully.  He moved uncertainly in the direction of the
+window where the light showed him his own bare extremities.  He
+reverted to his original idea that his clothes were scattered
+about the floor.
+
+He was beginning to experience a great sense of haste, it was two
+miles to Boggs' and Fentress would be there at sun-up.  Finally
+he abandoned his quest of the missing garments and turned to the
+door.  To say that he was amazed when he found it locked would
+have most inadequately described his emotions.  Breathing deep,
+he fell back a step or two, and then with all the vigor he could
+muster launched himself at the door.  But it resisted him.
+"It's bolted on the other side!" he muttered, the full measure of
+Pegloe's perfidy revealing itself to his mind.
+
+He was aghast.  It was a plot to discredit him.  Pegloe's
+hospitality had been inspired by his enemy, for Pegloe was
+Fentress' tenant.
+
+Again he attacked the door; he believed it might be possible to
+force it from its hinges, but Pegloe had done his work too well
+for that, and at last, spent and breathless, the judge dropped
+down on the edge of his bed to consider the situation.  He was
+without clothes and he was a prisoner, yet his mind rose
+splendidly to meet the difficulties that beset him.  His greatest
+activities were reserved for what appeared to be only a season of
+despair.  He armed himself with a threelegged stool he had found
+and turned once more to the door, but the stout planks stood firm
+under his blows.
+
+"Unless I get out of here in time I'm a ruined man!" thought the
+judge.  "After this Fentress will refuse to meet me!"
+
+The window next engaged his attention.  That, too, Pegloe had
+taken the precaution to fasten, but a single savage blow of the
+stool shattered glass and sash and left an empty space that
+framed the dawn's red glow.  The judge looked out and shook his
+head dubiously.  It was twelve feet or more to the ground, a
+risky drop for a gentleman of his years and build.  The judge
+considered making a rope of his bedding and lowering himself to
+the ground by means of it, he remembered to have read of captives
+in that interesting French prison, the Bastille, who did this.
+However, an equally ingenious but much more simple use for his
+bedding occurred to him; it would form a soft and yielding
+substance on which to alight.  He gathered it up into his arms,
+feather-tick and all, and pushed it through the window, then he
+wriggled out across the ledge, feet first, and lowering himself
+to the full length of his arms, dropped.
+
+He landed squarely on the rolled-up bed with a jar that shook him
+to his center.  Almost gaily he snatched up a quilt, draping it
+about him after the manner of a Roman, toga, and thus lightly
+habited, started across Mr. Pegloe's truck-patch, his one thought
+Boggs' and the sun.  It would have served no purpose to have gone
+home, since his entire wardrobe, except for the shirt on his
+back, was in the tavern-keeper's possession, besides he had not a
+moment to lose, for the sun was peeping at him over the horizon.
+
+Unobserved he gained the edge of the town and the highroad that
+led past Boggs' and stole a fearful glance over his shoulder.
+The sun was clear of the treetops, he could even feel the
+lifeless dust grow warm beneath his feet; and wrapping the quilt
+closer about him he broke into a labored run.
+
+Some twenty minutes later Boggs' came in sight.  He experienced a
+moment of doubt--suppose Fentress had been there and gone!  It
+was a hideous thought and the judge groaned.  Then at the other
+end of the meadow near the woods he distinguished several men,
+Fentress and his friends beyond question.  The judge laughed
+aloud.  In spite of everything he was keeping his engagement, he
+was plucking his triumph out of the very dregs of failure.  The
+judge threw himself over the fence, a corner of the quilt caught
+on one of the rails; he turned to release it, and in that instant
+two pistol shots rang out sharply in the morning air.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+THE DUEL
+
+
+It had been with no little reluctance that Solomon Mahaffy
+accompanied Yancy and Cavendish to Belle Plain; he would have
+preferred to remain in Raleigh in attendance upon judge Price.
+Intimately acquainted with the judge's mental processes, he could
+follow all the devious workings of that magnificent mind; he
+could fathom the simply hellish ingenuity he was capable of
+putting forth to accomplish temporary benefits.  Permitting his
+thoughts to dwell upon the mingled strength and weakness which
+was so curiously blended in Slocum Price's character, he had
+horrid visions of that great soul, freed from the trammels of
+restraint, confiding his melancholy history to Mr. Pegloe in the
+hope of bolstering his fallen credit at the City Tavern.
+
+Always where the judge was concerned he fluctuated between
+extremes of doubt and confidence.  He felt that under the urgent
+spur of occasion his friend could rise to any emergency, while a
+sustained activity made demands which he could not satisfy; then
+his efforts were discounted by his insane desire to realize at
+once on his opportunities; in his haste he was for ever plucking
+unripe fruit; and though he might keep one eye on the main chance
+the other was fixed just as resolutely on the nearest tavern.
+
+With the great stake which fate had suddenly introduced into
+their losing game, he wished earnestly to believe that the judge
+would stay quietly in his office and complete the task he had set
+himself; that with this off his hands the promise of excitement
+at Belle Plain would compel his presence there, when he would
+pass somewhat under the restraining influence which he was
+determined to exert; in short, to Solomon, life embraced just the
+one vital consideration, which was to maintain the judge in a
+state of sobriety until after his meeting with Fentress.
+
+The purple of twilight was stealing over the land when he and his
+two companions reached Belle Plain.  They learned that Tom Ware
+had returned from Memphis, that the bayou had been dragged but
+without results, and that as yet nothing had been heard from
+Carrington or the dogs he had gone for.
+
+Presently Cavendish and Yancy set off across the fields.  They
+were going on to the raft, to Polly and the six little
+Cavendishes, whom they had not seen since early morning; but they
+promised to be back at Belle Plain within an hour.
+
+By very nature an alien, Mahaffy sought out a dark corner on the
+wide porch that overlooked the river to await their return.  The
+house had been thrown open, and supper was being served to
+whoever cared to stay and partake of it.  The murmur of idle
+purposeless talk drifted out to him; he was irritated and
+offended by it.  There was something garish in this
+indiscriminate hospitality in the very home of tragedy.  As the
+moments slipped by his sense of displeasure increased, with
+mankind in general, with himself, and with the judge--principally
+with the judge--who was to make a foolish target of himself in
+the morning.  He was going to give the man who had wrecked his
+life a chance to take it as well.  Mahaffy's cold logic dealt
+cynically with the preposterous situation his friend had created.
+
+In the midst of his angry meditations he heard a clock strike in
+the hall and counted the strokes.  It was nine o'clock.  Surely
+Yancy and Cavendish had been gone their hour!  He quitted his
+seat and strolled restlessly about the house.  He felt deeply
+indignant with everybody and everything.  Human intelligence
+seemed but a pitiable advance on brute instinct.  A whole day had
+passed and what had been accomplished?  Carrington, the judge,
+Yancy, Cavendish--the four men who might have worked together to
+some purpose had widely separated themselves; and here was the
+duel, the very climax of absurdity.  He resumed his dark corner
+and waited another hour.  Still no Carrington, and Yancy and
+Cavendish had not come up from the raft.
+
+"Fools!" thought Mahaffy bitterly.  "All of them fools!"
+
+At last he decided to go back to the judge; and a moment later
+was hurrying down the lane in the direction of the highroad, but,
+jaded as he was by the effort he had already put forth that day,
+the walk to Raleigh made tremendous demands on him, and it was
+midnight when he entered the little town.
+
+It can not be said that he was altogether surprised when he found
+their cottage dark and apparently deserted.  He had half expected
+this.  Entering, and not stopping to secure a candle, he groped
+his way up-stairs to the room on the second floor which he and
+the judge shared.
+
+"Price!" he called, but this gained him no response, and he
+cursed softly under his breath.
+
+He hastily descended to the kitchen, lighted a candle, and
+stepped into the adjoining room.  On the table was a neat pile of
+papers, and topping the pile was the president's letter.  Being
+burdened by no false scruples, and thinking it might afford some
+clue to the judge's whereabouts, Mahaffy took it up and read it.
+Having mastered its contents he instantly glanced in the
+direction of the City Tavern, but it was wrapped in darkness.
+
+"Price is drunk somewhere," was his definite conclusion.  "But
+he'll be at Boggs' the first thing in the morning--most likely so
+far gone he can hardly stand!"  The letter, with its striking
+news, made little or no impression on him just then; it merely
+furnished the clue he had sought.  The judge was off somewhere
+marketing his prospects.
+
+After a time Mahaffy went up-stairs, and, without removing his
+clothes, threw himself on the bed.  He was worn down to the point
+of exhaustion, yet he could not sleep, though the deep silence
+warned him that day was not far off.  What if--but he would not
+let the thought shape itself in his mind.  He had witnessed the
+judge's skill with the pistol, and he had even a certain
+irrational faith in that gentleman's destiny.  He prayed God that
+Fentress might die quickly and decently with the judge's bullet
+through his brain.  Over and over in savage supplication he
+muttered his prayer that Fentress might die.
+
+He began to watch for the coming of the dawn, but before the
+darkness lifted he had risen from the bed and gone downstairs,
+where he made himself a cup of wretched coffee.  Then he blew out
+his candle and watched the gray light spread.  He was impatient
+now to be off, and fully an hour before the sun, set out for
+Boggs', a tall, gaunt figure in the shadowy uncertainty of that
+October morning.  He was the first to reach the place of meeting,
+but he had scarcely entered the meadow when Fentress rode up,
+attended by Tom Ware.  They dismounted, and the colonel lifted
+his hat.  Mahaffy barely acknowledged the salute; he was in no
+mood for courtesies that meant nothing.  Ware was clearly of the
+same mind.
+
+There was an awkward pause, then Fentress and Ware spoke together
+in a low tone.  The planter's speech was broken and hoarse, and
+his heavy, bloodshot eyes were the eyes of a haunted man; this
+was all a part of Fentress' scheme to face the world, and Ware
+still believed that the fires Hicks had kindled had served his
+desperate need.
+
+When the first long shadows stole out from the edge of the woods
+Fentress turned to Mahaffy, whose glance was directed toward the
+distant corner of the field, where he knew his friend must first
+appear.
+
+"Why are we waiting, sir?" he demanded, his tone cold and formal.
+
+"Something has occurred to detain Price," answered Mahaffy.
+
+The colonel and Ware exchanged looks.  Again they spoke together,
+while Mahaffy watched the road.  Ten minutes slipped by in this
+manner, and once more Fentress addressed Mahaffy.
+
+"Do you know what could have detained him?" he inquired, the
+ghost of a smile curling his thin lips.
+
+"I don't," said Mahaffy, and relapsed into a moody and anxious
+silence.  He held dueling in very proper abhorrence, and only his
+feeling of intense but never-declared loyalty to his friend had
+brought him there.
+
+Another interval of waiting succeeded.
+
+"I have about reached the end of my patience; I shall wait just
+ten minutes longer," said Fentress, and drew out his watch.
+
+"Something has happened--" began Mahaffy.
+
+"I have kept my engagement; he should have kept his," Fentress
+continued, addressing Ware.  "I am sorry to have brought you here
+for nothing, Tom."
+
+"Wait!" said Mahaffy, planting himself squarely before Fentress.
+
+"I consider this comic episode at an end," and Fentress pocketed
+his watch.
+
+"Scarcely!" rejoined Mahaffy.  His long arm shot out and the open
+palm of his hand descended on the colonel's face.  "I am here for
+my friend," he said grimly.
+
+The colonel's face paled and colored by turns.
+
+"Have you a weapon?" he asked, when he could command his voice.
+Mahaffy exhibited the pistol he had carried to Belle Plain the
+day before.
+
+"Step off the ground, Tom."  Fentress spoke quietly.  When Ware
+had done as he requested, the colonel spoke again.  "You are my
+witness that I was the victim of an unprovoked attack."
+
+Mr. Ware accepted this statement with equanimity, not to say
+indifference.
+
+"Are you ready?" he asked; he glanced at Mahaffy, who by a slight
+inclination of the head signified that he was.  "I reckon you're
+a green hand at this sort of thing?" commented Tom evilly.
+
+"Yes," said Mahaffy tersely.
+
+"Well, listen: I shall count, one, two, three; at the word three
+you will fire.  Now take your positions."
+
+Mahaffy and the colonel stood facing each other, a distance of
+twelve paces separating them.  Mahaffy was pale but dogged, he
+eyed Fentress unflinchingly.  Quick on the word Fentress fired,
+an instant later Mahaffy's pistol exploded; apparently neither
+bullet had taken effect, the two men maintained the rigid
+attitude they had assumed; then Mahaffy was seen to turn on his
+heels, next his arm dropped to his side and the pistol slipped
+from his fingers, a look of astonishment passed over his face and
+left it vacant and staring while his right hand stole up toward
+his heart; he raised it slowly, with difficulty, as though it
+were held down by some invisible weight.
+
+A hush spread across the field.  It was like one of nature's
+invisible transitions.  Along the edge of the woods the song of
+birds was stricken into silence.  Ware, heavy-eyed Fentress, his
+lips twisted by a tortured smile, watched Mahaffy as he panted
+for breath, with his hand clenched against his chest.  That dead
+oppressive silence lasted but a moment, from out of it came a cry
+that smote on the wounded man's ears and reached his
+consciousness.
+
+"It's Price--" he gasped, his words bathed in blood.  and he
+pitched forward on his face.
+
+Ware and Fentress had heard the cry, too, and running to their
+horses threw themselves into the saddle and galloped off.  The
+judge midway of the meadow roared out a furious protest but the
+mounted men turned into the highroad and vanished from sight, and
+the judge's shaking legs bore him swiftly in the direction of the
+gaunt figure on the ground.
+
+Mahaffy struggled to rise, for he was hearing his friend's voice
+now, the voice of utter anguish, calling his name.  At last
+painful effort brought him to his knees.  He saw the judge,
+clothed principally in a gaily colored bed-quilt, hatless and
+shoeless, his face sodden and bleary from his night's debauch.
+Mahaffy stood erect and staggered toward him, his hand over his
+wound, his features drawn and livid, then with a cry he dropped
+at his friend's feet.
+
+"Solomon!  Solomon!" And the judge knelt beside him.
+
+"It's all right, Price; I kept your appointment," whispered
+Mahaffy; a bloody spume was gathering on his lips, and he stared
+up at his friend with glassy eyes.
+
+In very shame the judge hid his face in his hands, while sobs
+shook him.
+
+"Solomon--Solomon, why did you do this?" he cried miserably.
+
+The harsh lines on the dying man's face erased themselves.
+
+"You're the only friend I've known in twenty years of loneliness,
+Price.  I've loved you like a brother," he panted, with a pause
+between each word.
+
+Again the judge buried his face in his hands.
+
+"I know it, Solomon--I know it!" he moaned wretchedly.
+
+"Price, you are still a man to be reckoned with.  There's the
+boy; take your place for his sake and keep it--you can."
+
+"I will--by God, I will!" gasped the judge.  "You hear me?  You
+hear me, Solomon?  By God's good help, I will!"
+
+"You have the president's letter--I saw it " said Mahaffy in a
+whisper.
+
+"Yes!" cried the judge.  "Solomon, the world is changing for us!"
+
+"For me most of all," murmured Mahaffy, and there was a bleak
+instant when the judge's ashen countenance held the full pathos
+of age and failure.  "Remember your oath, Price," gasped the
+dying man.  A moment of silence succeeded.  Mahaffy's eyes
+closed, then the heavy lids slid back.  He looked up at the judge
+while the harsh lines of his sour old face softened wonderfully.
+"Kiss me, Price," he whispered, and as the judge bent to touch
+him on the brow, the softened lines fixed themselves in death,
+while on his lips lingered a smilc that was neither bitter nor
+sneering.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+A CRISIS AT THE COURT-HOUSE
+
+
+In that bare upper room they had shared, the judge, crushed and
+broken, watched beside the bed on which the dead man lay;
+unconscious of the flight of time he sat with his head bowed in
+his hands, having scarcely altered his position since he begged
+those who carried Mahaffy up the narrow stairs to leave him alone
+with his friend.
+
+He was living over the past.  He recalled his first meeting with
+Mahaffy in the stuffy cabin of the small river packet from which
+they had later gone ashore at Pleasantville; he thanked God that
+it had been given him to see beneath Solomon's forbidding
+exterior and into that starved heart!  He reviewed each phase of
+the almost insensible growth of their intimacy; he remembered
+Mahaffy's fine true loyalty at the time of his arrest--he thought
+of Damon and Pythias--Mahaffy had reached the heights of a
+sublime devotion; he could only feel enobled that he had inspired
+it.
+
+At last the dusk of twilight invaded the room.  He lighted the
+candles on the chimneypiece, then he resumed his seat and his
+former attitude.  Suddenly he became aware of a small hand that
+was resting on his arm and glanced up; Hannibal had stolen
+quietly into the room.  The boy pointed to the still figure on
+the bed.
+
+"Judge, what makes Mr. Mahaffy lie so quiet--is he dead?" he
+asked in a whisper.
+
+"Yes, dear lad," began the judge in a shaking voice as he drew
+Hannibal toward him, "your friend and mine is dead--we have lost
+him."  He lifted the boy into his lap, and Hannibal pressed a
+tear-stained face against the judge's shoulder.  "How did you get
+here?" the judge questioned gently.
+
+"Uncle Bob fetched me," said Hannibal.  "He's down-stairs, but he
+didn't tell me Mr. Mahaffy was dead-"
+
+"We have sustained a great loss, Hannibal, and we must never
+forget the moral grandeur of the man.  Some day, when you are
+older, and I can bring myself to speak of it, I will tell you of
+his last moments."  The judge's voice broke, a thick sob rose
+chokingly in his throat.  "Poor Solomon!  A man of such tender
+feeling that he hid it from the world, for his was a rare nature
+which only revealed itself to the chosen few he honored with his
+love."  The judge lapsed into a momentary brooding silence, in
+which his great arms drew the boy closer against his heart.
+"Dear lad, since I left you at Belle Plain a very astonishing
+knowledge has come to me.  It was the Hand of Providence--I see
+it now--that first brought us together.  You must not call me
+judge any more; I am your grandfather your mother was my
+daughter."
+
+Hannibal instantly sat erect and looked up at the judge, his blue
+eyes wide with amazement at this extraordinary statement.
+
+"It is a very strange story, Hannibal, and its links are not all
+in my hands, but I am sure because of what I already know.  I,
+who thought that not a drop of my blood flowed in any veins but
+my own, live again in you.  Do you understand what I am telling
+you?  Your are my own dear little grandson--" and the judge
+looked down with no uncertain love and pride into the small face
+upturned to his.
+
+"I am glad if you are my grandfather, judge," said Hannibal very
+gravely.  "I always liked you."
+
+"Thank you, dear lad," responded the judge with equal gravity,
+and then as Hannibal nestled back in his grandfather's arms a
+single big tear dropped from the end of that gentleman's
+prominent nose.
+
+"There will be many and great changes in store for us," continued
+the judge.  "But as we met adversity with dignity, I am sure we
+shall be able to endure prosperity with equanimityonly unworthy
+natures are affected by what is at best superficial and
+accidental.  I mean that the blight of poverty is about to be
+lifted from our lives."
+
+"Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?"
+asked Hannibal.
+
+The judge regarded him with infinite tenderness of expression; he
+was profoundly moved.
+
+"Would you mind saying that again, dear lad?"
+
+"Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?"
+repeated Hannibal.
+
+"I shall enjoy an adequate competency which I am about to
+recover.  It will be sufficient for the indulgence of those
+simple and intellectual tastes I propose to cultivate for the
+future."  In spite of himself the judge sighed.  This was hardly
+in line with his ideals, but the right to choose was no longer
+his.  "You will be very rich, Hannibal.  The Quintard lands--your
+grandmother was a Quintard--will be yours; they run up into the
+hundred of thousand of acres here about; this land will all be
+yours as soon as I can establish your identity."
+
+"Will Uncle Bob be rich too?" inquired Hannibal.
+
+"Certainly.  How can he be poor when we possess wealth?" answered
+the judge.
+
+"You reckon he will always live with us, don't you, grandfather?"
+
+"I would not have it otherwise.  I admire Mr. Yancy--he is simple
+and direct, and fit for any company under heaven except that of
+fools.  His treatment of you has placed me under everlasting
+obligations; he shall share what we have.  My one bitter,
+unavailing regret is that Solomon Mahaffy will not be here to
+partake of our altered fortunes."  And the judge sighed deeply.
+
+"Uncle Bob told me Mr. Mahaffy got hurt in a duel, grandfather?"
+said Hannibal.
+
+"He was as inexperienced as a child in the use of firearms, and
+he had to deal with scoundrels who had neither mercy nor generous
+feeling--but his courage was magnificent."
+
+Presently Hannibal was deep in his account of those adventures he
+had shared with Miss Betty.
+
+"And Miss Malroy--where is she now?" asked the judge, in the
+first pause of the boy's narrative.
+
+"She's at Mr. Bowen's house.  Mr. Carrington and Mr. Cavendish
+are here too.  Mrs. Cavendish stayed down yonder at the Bates'
+plantation.  Grandfather, it were Captain Murrell who had me
+stole--do you reckon he was going to take me back to Mr. Bladen?"
+
+"I will see Miss Malroy in the morning.   We must combine--our
+interests are identical.  There should be hemp in this for more
+than one scoundrel!  I can see now how criminal my disinclination
+to push myself to the front has been!" said the judge, with
+conviction.  "Never again will I shrink from what I know to be a
+public duty."
+
+A little later they went down-stairs, where the judge had Yancy
+make up a bed for himself and Hannibal on the floor.  He would
+watch alone beside Mahaffy, he was certain this would have been
+the dead man's wish; then he said good night and mounted heavily
+to the floor above to resume his vigil and his musings.
+
+Just at daybreak Yancy was roused by the pressure of a hand on
+his shoulder, and opening his eyes saw that the judge was bending
+over him.
+
+"Dress!" he said briefly.  "There's every prospect of trouble
+--get your rifle and come with me!"
+
+Yancy noted that this prospect of trouble seemed to afford the
+judge a pleasurable sensation; indeed, he had quite lost his
+former air of somber and suppressed melancholy.
+
+"I let you sleep, thinking you needed the rest," the judge went
+on.  "But ever since midnight we've been on the verge of riot and
+possible bloodshed.  They've arrested John Murrell--it's claimed
+he's planned a servile rebellion!  A man named Hues, who had
+wormed his way into his confidence, made the arrest.  He carried
+Murrell into Memphis, but the local magistrate, intimidated, most
+likely, declined to have anything to do with holding him.  In
+spite of this, Hues managed to get his prisoner lodged in jail,
+but along about nightfall the situation began to look serious.
+Folks were swarming into town armed to the teeth, and Hues
+fetched Murrell across country to Raleigh--"
+
+"Yes?" said Yancy.
+
+"Well, the sheriff has refused to take Murrell into custody.
+Hues has him down at the court-house, but whether or not he is
+going to be able to hold him is another matter!"
+
+Yancy and Hannibal had dressed by this time, and the judge led
+the way from the house.  The Scratch Hiller looked about him.
+Across the street a group of men, the greater number of whom were
+armed, stood in front of Pegloe's tavern.  Glancing in the
+direction of the court-house, he observed that the square before
+it held other groups.  But what impressed him more was the
+ominous silence that was everywhere.  At his elbow the judge was
+breathing deep.
+
+"We are face to face with a very deplorable condition, Mr. Yancy.
+Court was to sit here to-day, but judge Morrow and the public
+prosecutor have left town, and as you see, Murrell's friends have
+gathered for a rescue.  There's a sprinkling of the better
+element--but only a sprinkling.  I saw judge Morrow this morning
+at four o'clock--I told him I would obligate myself to present
+for his consideration evidence of a striking and sensational
+character, evidence which would show conclusively that Murrell
+should be held to await the action of the next grand jury--this
+was after a conference with Hues--I guaranteed his safety.  Sir,
+the man refused to listen to me!  He showed himself utterly
+devoid of any feeling of public duty."  The bitter sense of
+failure and futility was leaving the judge.  The situation made
+its demands on that basic faith in his own powers which remained
+imbedded in his character.
+
+They had entered the court-house square.  'On the steps of the
+building Betts was arguing loudly with Hues, who stood in the
+doorway, rifle in hand.
+
+"Maybe you don't know this is county property?" the sheriff was
+saying.  "And that you have taken unlawful possession of it for
+an unlawful purpose?  I am going to open them doors-a passel of
+strangers can't keep folks out of a building their own money has
+bought and paid for!"  While he was speaking, the judge had
+pushed his way through the crowd to the foot of the steps.
+
+"That was very nicely said, Mr. Betts," observed the judge.  He
+smiled widely and sweetly.  The sheriff gave him a hostile glare.
+"Do you know that Morrow has left town?" the judge went on.
+
+"I ain't got nothing to do with judge Morrow.  It's my duty to
+see that this building is ready for him when he's a mind to open
+court in it"
+
+"You are willing to assume the responsibility of throwing open
+these doors?" inquired the judge affably.
+
+"I shorely am," said Betts.  "Why, some of these folks are our
+leading people!"
+
+The judge turned to the crowd, and spoke in a tone of excessive
+civility.  "Just a word, gentlemen!--the sheriff is right; it is
+your court-house and you should not be kept out of it.  No doubt
+there are some of you whose presence in this building will sooner
+or later be urgently desired.  We are going to let all who wish
+to enter, but I beg you to remember that there will be five men
+inside whose prejudices are all in favor of law and order." He
+pushed past Hues and entered the court-house, followed by Yancy
+and Hannibal.  "We'll let 'em in where I can talk to 'em," he
+said almost gaily.  "Besides, they'll come in anyhow when they
+get ready, so there's no sense in exciting them."
+
+In the court-house, Murrell, bound hand and foot, was seated
+between Carrington and the Earl of Lambeth in the little
+railed-off space below the judge's bench.  Fear and suffering had
+blanched his unshaven cheeks and given a wild light to his deeply
+sunken eyes.  At sight of Yancy a smothered exclamation broke
+from his lips, he had supposed this man dead these many months!
+
+Hues had abandoned his post and the crowd, suddenly grown
+clamorous, stormed the narrow entrance.  One of the doors, borne
+from its hinges, went down with a crash.  The judge, a fierce
+light flashing from his eyes, turned to Yancy.
+
+"No matter what happens, this fellow Murrell is not to escape--if
+he calls on his friends to rescue him he is to be shot!"
+
+The hall was filling with swearing, struggling men, the floor
+shook beneath their heavy tread; then they burst into the
+court-room and saluted Murrell with a great shout.  But Murrell,
+bound, in rags, and silent, his lips frozen in a wolfish grin,
+was a depressing sight, and the boldest felt something of his
+unrestrained lawlessness go from him.
+
+Less noisy now, the crowd spread itself out among the benches or
+swarmed up into the tiny gallery at the back of the building.
+Man after man had hurried forward, intent on passing beyond the
+railing, but each lead encountered the judge, formidable and
+forbidding, and had turned aside.  Gradually the many pairs of
+eyes roving over the little group surrounding the outlaw focussed
+themselves on Slocum Price.  It was in unconscious recognition of
+that moral force which was his, a tribute to the grim dignity of
+his unshaken courage; what he would do seemed worth considering.
+
+He was charmed to hear his name pass in a whisper from lip to
+lip.  Well, it was time they knew him!  He squared his ponderous
+shoulders and made a gesture commanding silence.  Battered,
+shabby and debauched, he was like some old war horse who sniffs
+the odor of battle that the wind incontinently brings to his
+nostrils.
+
+"Don't let him speak!" cried a voice, and a tumult succeeded.
+
+Cool and indomitable the judge waited for it to subside.  He saw
+that the color was stealing back into Murrell's face.  The outlaw
+was feeling that he was a leader not overthrown, these were his
+friends and followers, his safety was their safety too.  In a
+lull in the storm of sound the judge attempted to make himself
+heard, but his words were lost in the angry roar that descended
+on him.
+
+"Don't let him speak!  Kill him!  Kill him!"
+
+A score of men sprang to their feet and from all sides came the
+click of rifle and pistol hammers as they were drawn to the full
+cock.  The judge's fate seemed to rest on a breath.  He swung
+about on his heel and gave a curt nod to Yancy and Cavendish,
+who, falling back a step, tossed their guns to their shoulders
+and covered Murrell.  A sudden hush grew up out of the tumult;
+the cries, angry and jeering, dwindled to a murmur, and a dead
+pall of silence rested on the crowded room.
+
+The very taste of triumph was in the judge's mouth.  Then came a
+commotion at the back of the building, a whispered ripple of
+comment, and Colonel Fentress elbowed his way through the crowd.
+At sight of his enemy the judge's face went from white to red,
+while his eyes blazed; but for the moment the force of his
+emotions left him speechless.  Here and there, as he advanced,
+Fentress recognized a friend and bowed coolly to the right and
+left.
+
+"What does this ridiculous mockery mean?" he demanded harshly.
+"Mr. Sheriff, as a member of the bar, I protest!  Why don't you
+clear the building?"  He did not wait for Betts to answer him,
+but continued.  "Where is this man Hues?"
+
+"Yonder, Colonel, by the captain," said Betts.
+
+"I have a warrant for his arrest.  You will take him into
+custody."
+
+"Wait!" cried the judge.  "I represent Mr. Hues.  I desire to see
+that warrant!"
+
+But Fentress ignored him.  He addressed the crowded benches.
+
+"Gentlemen, it is a serious matter forcibly to seize a man
+without authority from the courts and expose him to the danger of
+mob violence--Mr. Hues will learn this before we have done with
+him."
+
+Instantly there was a noisy demonstration that swelled into a
+burst of applause, which quickly spent itself.  The struggle
+seemed to have narrowed to an individual, contest for supremacy
+between Fentress and the judge.  On the edge of the railed off
+space they confronted each other: the colonel, a tall,
+well-cared-for presence; the judge shabby and unkempt.  For a
+moment their eyes met, while the judge's face purpled and paled,
+and purpled again.  The silence deepened.  Fentress' thin lips
+opened, twitched, but no sound came from them; then his glance
+wavered and fell.  He turned away.
+
+"Mr. Sheriff!" he called sharply.
+
+"All right, Colonel!"
+
+"Take your man into custody," ordered Fentress.  As he spoke he
+handed the warrant to Betts, who looked at it, grinned, and
+stepped toward Hues.  He would have pushed the judge aside had
+not that gentleman, bowing civilly, made way for him.
+
+"In my profound respect for the law and properly constituted
+authority I yield to no man, not even to Colonel Fentress," he
+said, with a gracious gesture.  "I would not place the slightest
+obstacle in the way of its sanctioned manifestation.  Colonel
+Fentress comes here with that high sanction."  He bowed again
+ceremoniously to the colonel.  "I repeat, I respect his
+dependence upon the law!" He whirled suddenly.
+
+Cavendish--Yancy--Carrington--I call upon you to arrest John
+Murrell!  I do this by virtue of the authority vested in me as a
+judge of the United States Federal Court.  His crime--a mere
+trifle, my friends--passing counterfeit money!  Colonel Fentress
+will inform you that this is a violation of the law which falls
+within my jurisdiction," and he beamed blandly on Fentress.
+
+"It's a lie!" cried the colonel.
+
+"You'll answer for that later!" said the judge, with abrupt
+austerity of tone.
+
+"For all we know you may be some fugitive from justice!  Why,
+your name isn't Price!"
+
+"Are you sure of that?" asked the judge quickly.
+
+"You're an impostor!  Your name is Turberville!"
+
+"Permit me to relieve your apprehensions.  It is Turberville who
+has received the appointment.  Would you like to examine my
+credentials?--I have them by me--no?  I am obliged for your
+introduction.  It could not have come at a more timely moment!"
+The judge seemed to dismiss Fentress contemptuously.  Once more
+he faced the packed benches.  "Put down your weapons!" he
+commanded.  "This man Murrell will not be released.  At the first
+effort at rescue he will be shot where he sits--we have sworn it
+--his plotting is at an end."  He stalked nearer the benches.
+"Not one chance in a thousand remains to him.  Either he dies
+here or he lives to betaken before every judge in the state, if
+necessary, until we find one with courage to try him!  Make no
+mistake--it will best conserve the ends of justice to allow the
+state court's jurisdiction in this case; and I pledge myself to
+furnish evidence which will start him well on his road to the
+gallows!"  The judge, a tremendous presence, stalked still nearer
+the benches.  Outfacing the crowd, a sense of the splendor of the
+part he was being called upon to play flowed through him like
+some elixir; he felt that he was transcending himself, that his
+inspiration was drawn from the hidden springs of the spirit, and
+that he could neither falter nor go astray.  "You don't know what
+you are meddling with!  This man has plotted to lay the South in
+ruins--he has been arming the negroes--it--it is incredible that
+you should all know this--to such I say, go home and thank God
+for your escape!  For the others"--his shaggy brows met in a
+menacing frown--"if they force our hand we will toss them John
+Murrell's dead carcass--that's our answer to their challenge!"
+
+He strode out among the gun muzzles which wavered where they
+still covered him.  He was thinking of Mahaffy--Mahaffy, who had
+said he was still a man to be reckoned with.  For the comfort of
+his own soul he was proving it.
+
+"Do you know what a servile insurrection means?--you men who have
+wives and daughters, have you thought of their fate?  Of the
+monstrous savagery to which they would be exposed?  Do you
+believe he could limit and control it?  Look at him!  Why, he has
+never had a consideration outside of his own safety, and yet he
+expects you to risk your necks to save his!  He would have left
+the state before the first blow was struck--his business was all
+down river--but we are going to keep him here to answer for his
+crimes!  The law, as implacable as it is impartial, has put its
+mark on him--the shadow in which he sits is the shadow of the
+gallows!"
+
+The judge paused, but the only sound in that expectant silence
+was the heavy breathing of men.  He drew his unwieldy form erect,
+while his voice rumbled on, aggressive and threatening in its
+every intonation.
+
+"You are here to defend something that no longer exists.  Your
+organization is wrecked, your signals and passwords are known,
+your secrets have become public property--I can even produce a
+list of your members; there are none of you who do not stand in
+imminent peril--yet understand, I have no wish to strike at those
+who have been misled or coerced into joining Murrell's band!"
+The judge's sodden old face glowed now with the magnanimity of
+his sentiments.  "But I have no feeling of mercy for your
+leaders, none for Murrell himself.  Put down your guns!--you can
+only kill us after we have killed Murrell--but you can't kill the
+law!  If the arch conspirator dies in this room and hour, on
+whose head will the punishment fall?"  He swung round his
+ponderous arm in a sweeping gesture and shook a fat but
+expressive forefinger in the faces of those nearest him.  "On
+yours--and yours--and yours!"
+
+Across the space that separated them the judge grinned his
+triumph at his enemy.  He had known when Fentress entered the
+room that a word or a sign from him would precipitate a riot, but
+he knew now that neither this word nor this sign would be given.
+Then quite suddenly he strode down the aisle, and foot by foot
+Fentress yielded ground before his advance.  A murderous light
+flashed from the judge's bloodshot eyes and his right hand was
+stealing toward the frayed tails of his coat.
+
+"Look out--he's getting ready to shoot!" cried a frightened
+voice.
+
+Instantly by doors and windows the crowd, seized with
+inexplicable panic, emptied itself into the courthouse yard.
+Fentress was caught up in the rush and borne from the room and
+from the building.  When he reached the graveled space below the
+steps he turned.  The judge was in the doorway, the center of a
+struggling group; Mr. Bowen, the minister, Mr. Saul and Mr.
+Wesley were vainly seeking to pinion his arm.
+
+"Draw--damn you!" he roared at Fentress, as he wrenched himself
+free, and the crowd swayed to right and left as Fentress was seen
+to reach for his pistol.
+
+Mr. Saul made a last frantic effort to restrain his friend; he
+seized the judge's arm just as the latter's finger pressed the
+trigger, and an instant later Fentress staggered back with the
+judge's bullet in his shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+THE END AND THE BEGINNING
+
+
+It was not strange that a number of gentlemen in and about
+Raleigh yielded to an overmastering impulse to visit newer lands,
+nor was it strange that the initial steps looking toward the
+indulgence of their desires should have been taken in secrecy.
+Mr. Pegloe was one of the first to leave; Mr. Saul had informed
+him of the judge's declared purpose of shooting him on sight.
+Even without this useful hint the tavern-keeper had known that he
+should experience intense embarrassment in meeting the judge;
+this was now a dreary certainty.
+
+"You reckon he means near all he says?" he had asked, his fat
+sides shaking.
+
+"I'd take his word a heap quicker than I would most folks,"
+answered Mr. Saul with conviction.
+
+Pegloe promptly had a sinking spell.  He recalled the snuffing of
+the candles by the judge, an extremely depressing memory under
+the circumstances, also the reckless and headlong disregard of
+consequences which had characterized so many of that gentleman's
+acts, and his plans shaped themselves accordingly, with this
+result: that when the judge took occasion to call at the tavern,
+and the hostile nature of his visit was emphasized by the
+cautious manner of his approach, he was greatly shocked to
+discover that his intended victim had sold his business overnight
+for a small lump sum to Mr. Saul's brother-in-law, who had
+appeared most opportunely with an offer.
+
+Pegloe's flight created something of a sensation, but it was
+dwarfed by the sensation that developed a day or so later when it
+became known that Tom Ware and Colonel Fentress had likewise fled
+the country.  Still later, Fentress' body, showing marks of
+violence, was washed ashore at a wood-yard below Girard.  It was
+conjectured that he and Ware had set out from The Oaks to cross
+the river; there was reason to believe that Fentress had in his
+possession at the time a considerable sum of money, and it was
+supposed that his companion had murdered and robbed him.  Of
+Ware's subsequent career nothing was ever known.
+
+These were, after all, only episodes in the collapse of the Clan,
+sporific manifestations of the great work of disintegration that
+was going forward and which the judge, more than any other,
+perhaps, had brought about.  This was something no one
+questioned, and he quickly passed to the first phase of that
+unique and peculiar esteem in which he was ever after held.  His
+fame widened with the succeeding suns; he had offers of help
+which impressed him as so entirely creditable to human nature
+that he quite lacked the heart to refuse them, especially as he
+felt that in the improvement of his own condition the world had
+bettered itself and was moving nearer those sound and righteous
+ideals of morality and patriotism which had never lacked his
+indorsement, no matter how inexpedient it had seemed for him to
+put them into practice.  But he was not diverted from his
+ultimate purpose by the glamour of a present popularity; he was
+able to keep his bleared eyes resolutely fixed on the main
+chance, namely the Fentress estate and the Quintard lands.  It
+was highly important that he should go east to South Carolina to
+secure documentary evidence that would establish his own and
+Fentress' identity, to Kentucky, where Fentress had lived prior
+to his coming to Tennessee.
+
+Early in November the judge set out by stage on his journey east;
+he was accompanied by Yancy and Hannibal, from neither of whom
+could he bring himself to be separated; and as the woods, flaming
+now with the touch of frost, engulfed the little town, he turned
+in his seat and looked back.  He had entered it by that very
+road, a beggar on foot and in rags; he was leaving it in
+broadcloth and fine linen, visible tokens of his altered
+fortunes.  More than this, he could thrust his hands deep down
+into his once empty pockets and hear the clink of gold and
+silver.  The judge slowly withdrew his eyes from the last gray
+roof that showed among the trees, and faced the east and the
+future with a serenely confident expression.
+
+Betty Malroy and Carrington had ridden into Raleigh to take leave
+of their friends.  They had watched the stage from sight, had
+answered the last majestic salute the judge had given them across
+the swaying top of the coach before the first turn of the road
+hid it from sight, and then they had turned their horses' heads
+in the direction of Belle Plain.
+
+"Bruce, do you think judge Price will ever be able to accomplish
+all he hopes to?"  Betty asked when they had left the town
+behind.  She drew in her horse as she spoke, and they went
+forward at a walk under the splendid arch of the forest and over
+a carpet of vivid leaves.
+
+"I reckon he will, Betty," responded Carrington.  Unfavorable as
+had been his original estimate of the judge's character, events
+had greatly modified it.
+
+"He really seems quite sure, doesn't he?" said Betty.
+
+"There's not a doubt in his mind," agreed Carrington.
+
+He was still at Belle Plain, living in what had been Ware's
+office, while the Cavendishes were domiciled at the big house.
+He had arranged with the judge to crop a part of that hopeful
+gentleman's land the very next season; the fact that a lawsuit
+intervened between the judge and possession seemed a trifling
+matter, for Carrington had become infected with the judge's point
+of view, which did not admit of the possibility of failure; but
+he had not yet told Betty of his plans.  Time enough for that
+when he left Belle Plain.
+
+His silence concerning the future had caused Betty much thought.
+She wondered if he still intended going south into the Purchase;
+she was not sure but it was the dignified thing for him to do.
+She was thinking of this now as they went forward over the
+rustling leaves, and at length she turned in the saddle and faced
+him.
+
+"I am going to miss Hannibal dreadfully--yes, and the judge, and
+Mr. Yancy!" she began.
+
+"And when I leave--how about me, Betty?" Carrington asked
+unexpectedly, but he only had in mind leaving Belle Plain.
+
+A little sigh escaped Betty's red lips, for she was thinking of
+the Purchase, which lay far down the river, many, many miles
+distant.  The sigh was ever so little, but Carrington had heard
+it.
+
+"I am to be missed, too, am I, Betty?" he inquired, leaning
+toward her.
+
+"You, Bruce?--Oh, I shall miss you, too--dreadfully--but then,
+perhaps in five years, when you come back--"
+
+"Five years!" cried Carrington, but he understood, something of
+what was passing in her mind, and laughed shortly.  "Five years,
+Betty?" he repeated, dwelling on the numeral.
+
+Betty hesitated and looked thoughtful.  Presently she stole a
+surreptitious glance at Carrington from under her long lashes,
+and went on slowly, as though she were making careful choice of
+her words.
+
+"When you come back in three years, Bruce--"
+
+Carrington still regarded her fixedly.  There was a light in his
+black eyes that seemed to penetrate to the most secret recesses
+of her heart and soul.
+
+"Three years, Betty?" he repeated again.
+
+Betty, her eyes cast down, twisted her rein nervously between her
+slim, white fingers, but Carrington's steady glance never left
+her sweet face, framed by its halo of bright hair.  She stole
+another look at him from beneath her dark lashes.
+
+"Three years, Betty?" he prompted.
+
+"Bruce, don't stare at me that way, it makes me forget what I was
+going to say!  When you come, back--next year--" and then she
+lifted her eyes to his and he saw that they were full of sudden
+tears.  "Bruce, don't go away--don't go away at all--"
+
+Carrington slipped from the saddle and stood at her side.
+
+"Do you mean that, Betty?" he asked.  He took her hands loosely
+in his and relentlessly considered her crimsoned face.  "I reckon
+it will always be right hard to refuse you anything--here is one
+settler the Purchase will never get!" and he laughed softly.
+
+"It was the Purchase--you were going there!" she cried.
+
+"No, I wasn't, Betty; that notion died its natural death long
+ago.  When we are sure you will be safe at Belle Plain with just
+the Cavendishes, I am going into Raleigh to wait as best I can
+until spring."  He spoke so gravely, that she asked in quick
+alarm.
+
+"And then, Bruce--what?"
+
+"And then--Oh, Betty, I'm starving--"  All in a moment he lifted
+her slender figure in his arms, gathering her close to him.  "And
+then, this--and this--and this, sweetheart--and more--and--oh,
+Betty!  Betty!"
+
+When Murrell was brought to trial his lawyers were able to
+produce a host of witnesses whose sworn testimony showed that so
+simple a thing as perjury had no terrors for them.  His fight for
+liberty was waged in and out of court with incredible bitterness,
+and, as judge and jury were only human, the outlaw escaped with
+the relatively light sentence of twelve years' imprisonment; he
+died, however, before the expiration of his term.
+
+The judge, where he returned to Raleigh, resumed his own name of
+Turberville, and he allowed it to be known that he would not be
+offended by the prefix of General.  During his absence he had
+accumulated a wealth of evidence of undoubted authenticity, with
+the result that his claim against the Fentress estate was
+sustained by the courts, and when The Oaks with its stock and
+slaves was offered for sale, he, as the principal creditor, was
+able to buy it in.
+
+One of his first acts after taking possession of the property was
+to have Mahaffy reinterred in the grove of oaks below his bedroom
+windows, and he marked the spot with a great square of granite.
+The judge, visibly shaken by his emotions, saw the massive
+boulder go into place.
+
+"Harsh and rugged like the nature of him who lies beneath it--but
+enduring, too, as he was," he murmured.  He turned to Yancy and
+Hannibal, and added
+
+"You will lay me beside him when I die."
+
+Then when the bitter struggle came and he was wrenched and
+tortured by longings, his strength was in remembering his promise
+to the dead man, and it was his custom to go out under the oaks
+and pace to and fro beside Mahaffy's grave until he had gained
+the mastery of himself.  Only Yancy and Hannibal knew how fierce
+the conflict was he waged, yet in the end he won that best earned
+of all victories, the victory over himself.
+
+"My salvation has been a costly thing; it was bought with the
+blood of my friend," he told Yancy.
+
+It was Hannibal's privilege to give Cavendish out of the vast
+Quintard tract such a farm as the earl had never dreamed of
+owning even in his most fervid moments of imagining; and he
+abandoned all idea of going to England to claim his title.  At
+the judge's suggestion he named the place Earl's Court.  He and
+Polly were entirely satisfied with their surroundings, and never
+ceased to congratulate themselves that they had left Lincoln
+County.  They felt that their friends the Carringtons at Belle
+Plain, though untitled people, were still of an equal rank with
+themselves; while as for the judge, they doubted if royalty
+itself laid it any over him.
+
+Mr. Yancy accepted his changed fortunes with philosophic
+composure.  Technically he filled the position of overseer at The
+Oaks, but the judge's activity was so great that this position
+was largely a sinecure.  The most arduous work he performed was
+spending his wages.
+
+Certain trifling peculiarities survived with the judge even after
+he had entered what he had once been prone to call the Portal of
+Hope; for while his charity was very great and he lived with the
+splendid air of plenty that belonged to an older order, it
+required tact, patience, and persistence to transact business
+with him; and his creditors, of whom there were always a
+respectable number, discovered that he esteemed them as they were
+aggressive and determined.  He explained to Yancy that too great
+certainty detracted from the charm of living, for, after all,
+life was a game--a gamble--he desired to be reminded of this.
+Yet he was held in great respect for his wisdom and learning,
+which was no more questioned that his courage.
+
+Thus surrounded by his friends, who were devoted to him, he began
+Hannibal's education and the preparation of his memoirs, intended
+primarily for the instruction of his grandson, and which he
+modestly decided to call The History of My Own Times, which
+clearly showed the magnificence of his mind and its outlook.
+
+
+
+
+
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