ing the prisoner calculatively, as a farmer stands
when he estimates the weight of a hog.

"Cree-mo-nee!" said he.

He laughed then, much to Joe's confusion, and totally beyond his
comprehension. The sheriff left him with that. From the passage his
laugh came back.

The day was Friday; Joe plucked up a little hope when he heard the
sheriff conducting somebody to the corridor gate. It was Colonel Price,
who had exercised his political influence over the sheriff and induced
him to set aside his new regulations for the day. The colonel made
apologies to Joe for what might seem his lack of interest in his
welfare.

Joe inquired of him concerning Alice, with respectful dignity. She was
well, said the colonel, and asked to be remembered. What else the
colonel said on that occasion Joe did not recall. All that he could
think of was that Alice had desired to be remembered.

What an ironical message to send him, thought Joe. If she only had come
herself, and given him the assurance with her eyes that there was no
stored censure, no burning reproach; if she had come, and quieted the
doubt, the uncertainty, of his self-tortured soul. His case had become
secondary beside Alice. The colonel talked of it, but Joe wondered if
the mignonette in her garden was dead. The colonel shook his head
gravely when he went away from the jail that day. It was plain that the
boy was suffering with that load on his mind and the uncertainty of the
outcome pressing upon him. He mentioned it to Alice.

"I think we'd better try to get him another lawyer," said the colonel.
"Hammer never will be equal to that job. It will be more the size of
Judge Burns, or one of the old heads. That boy's in a pickle, Alice, and
a mighty tight one, at that."

"But he's innocent--you don't doubt that?" said she.

"Not for a minute," the colonel declared. "I guess I should have been
looking after him closer, but that picture intervened between us. He's
wearing away to a shadow, chafing and pining there in jail, poor chap."

"Do you think he'll consent to your employing another lawyer for him?"
she asked, searching his face wistfully.

"I don't know; he's so set in the notion of loyalty to Hammer--just as
if anybody could hurt Hammer's feelings! If the boy will consent to it,
I'll hire Judge Burns at my own expense."

"I don't suppose he will," sighed she.

"No, I reckon not, his notions are so high-flown," the colonel admitted,
with evident pride in the lof