I let it. But to tell you the truth,
I'd rather be hanged than to be on the grid-iron all the time. Who's
that?"

Etheredge came into the corridor. He leered at Alf and Alf sneered at
him. "I suppose you found the dog that I told you was lying in the
road--the dog that tried to bite me," said Alf, with a cold smile.

"Jucklin, I didn't come in here to be insulted."

"All right, there's the door. Say, there, jailer, you have just let in a
gray rat and I wish you'd come and drive him out."

I turned to Etheredge and pointed to the door. "I must respect your
wish," he said, speaking to me. "I've an engagement with you--you are to
be my guest," and without another word he strode away.

I remained with Alf as long as the jailer thought it prudent to let me
stay, and then I went about the town to gather its sentiment. And I was
grieved to find that every one declared it to be cold-blooded murder. My
heart was heavy as I rode toward home, for the old people were looking
to me for encouragement. Guinea met me at the gate. She tried to smile,
but failed.

"Don't try to look pleased at seeing me," I said. "It is too much of an
effort." And if she could not smile she could give me a look of
gratitude. She went with me to the stable, saying not a word; and when I
had turned the horse loose she followed me to the sitting-room. At the
door I faltered, but Mrs. Jucklin's voice bade me enter. She was sitting
in a rocking-chair, with the Bible in her lap, and placing her hand upon
the book, she thus spoke to me: "Don't hesitate to talk, for His rod
and His staff shall comfort me."

I had not noticed the old man, so bent were my eyes upon his wife, but
now he arose into view, and, coming to me, he whispered: "From the stock
that stood at the stake."

I told them all I knew, which was not much; and then knelt down and
prayed with them.

CHAPTER XII.

Stuart was buried the next day, and the mourners passed our house. Mrs.
Jucklin was sitting at the window when the hearse and the buggies came
within sight, and her chin was unsteady as she reached for her book. And
there she sat, holding the old leather-covered Bible in her lap.

I had thought that Chyd Lundsford would come, with words of
encouragement, but we saw him not, neither that day nor the next. But
four days later I came upon him as I was going to town. He had a gun,
was followed by a number of squirrel-dogs and came out of the woods near
the spot where Alf had