filled the doorway.

It was Jethro Bass!

He entered the room with characteristic unconcern, as if he had just left
it on a trivial errand, and without a "How do you do?" or a "Good
evening," parted his coat tails, and sat down in the judge's armchair.
The judge dropped the volume of Scott on the desk, and as for Wetherell,
he realized for once the full meaning of the biblical expression of a
man's tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth; the gleam of one of
Jethro's brass buttons caught his eye and held it fascinated.

"Literary talk, Judge?" said Jethro. "D-don't mind me--go on."

"Thought you were at the capital," said the judge, reclaiming some of his
self-possession.

"Good many folks thought so," answered Jethro, "g-good many folks."

There was no conceivable answer to this, so the judge sat down with an
affectation of ease. He was a man on whom dignity lay heavily, and was
not a little ruffled because Wetherell had been a witness of his
discomfiture. He leaned back in his chair, then leaned forward,
stretching his neck and clearing his throat, a position in which he bore
a ludicrous resemblance to a turkey gobbler.

"Most through the Legislature?" inquired the judge.

"'Bout as common," said Jethro.

There was a long silence, and, forgetful for the moment of his own
predicament, Wetherell found a fearful fascination in watching the
contortions of the victim whose punishment was to precede his. It had
been one of the delights of Louis XI to contemplate the movements of a
certain churchman whom he had had put in a cage, and some inkling of the
pleasure to be derived from this pastime of tyrants dawned on Wetherell.
Perhaps the judge, too, thought of this as he looked at "Quentin Durward"
on the table.

"I was just sayin' to Lem Hallowell," began the judge, at last, "that I
thought he was a little mite hasty--"

"Er--indicted us, Judge?" said Jethro.

The judge and Wetherell heard the question with different emotions. Mr.
Parkinson did not seem astonished at the miracle which had put Jethro in
possession of this information, but heaved a long sigh of relief, as a
man will when the worst has at length arrived.

"I had to, Jethro--couldn't help it. I tried to get Hallowell to wait
till you come back and talk it over friendly, but he wouldn't listen;
said the road was dangerous, and that he'd spoken about it too often. He
said he hadn't anything against you."

"Didn't come in to complain," said Jethr