t see how you could have been called
awkward. Everybody at the General's spoke of how graceful you were, and
really it would make you vain if I were to tell you all that was said."

The old man came round the house, and Guinea sprang back. I was still
holding her hand. "Hah," he grunted. "Got home all right, eh? Parker was
over here just now and said that the trial had been set for next
Thursday, not quite a week from now, you understand. He seems to think
we are goin' to pull through all right; said that you've made friends
with everybody in the town. That's good, both for now and also for
after a while, when you set in as a lawyer. I tell you, Parker's visit
helped us mightily, and Susan has eat a right smart snack, and I didn't
know how hungry I was till right then. You better go to town to-morrow."

I went in early the next morning and found nothing to serve as a basis
for the hopefulness that Parker had given the old people. Conkwright was
busy with the case, frowning over his papers, but he had no words of
encouragement, except to say that he was going to do the best he could.
But after a while he flashed a gleam of hope by remarking that there was
one important factor in our favor. And eagerly I asked him what it was.

"It won't do to talk it around," said he, "but we can count on the judge
doing the square thing. He is comparatively new in our district, and the
Stuart influence hasn't taken hold on him--has had no cause to. His
favor, or, at least, his lack of a cause to be directly against us, will
mean a good deal; it will enable us to secure a new trial at any rate."

As I entered the corridor of the jail I saw Alf's face brighten behind
the bars. "Have you seen Millie?" he asked.

"No, your sister commanded me not to go near the General's house."

His countenance fell, but he said: "I reckon she's right. And I didn't
mean that you should make a dead-set call, you know--didn't know but you
might happen to meet her. That preacher, the one I told you about, has
been round again, and he declares that I must come into his church. They
do pull and haul a fellow when they get him into a corner, don't they?
Well, I don't see what else can be done now except to go into court and
have the thing over with. I know as well as I know my name that he would
have killed me if I hadn't killed him; not that night, of course, but
some time. I am sorry, though, that I stood there in the road, waiting
for him, for that does l