Hallowell and
the storekeeper had kept their secret so well that Sam, if he was
thinking about Jethro at all, believed him at that moment to be seated in
the Throne Room at the Pelican House, in the capital.

Mr. Price, however, was one of an adaptable nature, and by the time he
had pulled up beside Jethro he had recovered sufficiently to make a few
remarks on farming subjects, and finally to express a polite surprise at
Jethro's return.

"But you come a little mite late, hain't you, Jethro?" he asked finally,
with all of the indifference he could assume.

"H-how's that, Sam--how's that?"

"It's too bad,--I swan it is,--but Lem Hallowell rode over to Harwich
last night and indicted the town for that piece of road by the Four
Corners. Took Will Wetherell along with him."

"D-don't say so!" said Jethro.

"I callate he done it," responded Sam, pulling a long face. "The court'll
hev to send an agent to do the job, and I guess you'll hev to foot the
bill, Jethro."

"C-court'll hev to app'int an agent?"

"I callate."

"Er--you a candidate--Sam--you a candidate?"

"Don't know but what I be," answered the usually wary Mr. Price.

"G-goin' to Harwich--hain't you?"

"Mebbe I be, and mebbe I hain't," said Sam, not able to repress a
self-conscious snicker.

"M-might as well be you as anybody, Sam," said Jethro, as he drove on.

It was not strange that the idea, thus planted, should grow in Mr.
Price's favor as he proceeded. He had been surprised at Jethro's
complaisance, and he wondered whether, after all, he had done well to
help Chester stir people up at this time. When he reached Harwich,
instead of presenting himself promptly at the spinster's house, he went
first to the office of Judge Parkinson, as became a prudent man of
affairs.

Perhaps there is no need to go into the details of Mr. Price's
discomfiture on the occasion of this interview. The judge was by nature
of a sour disposition, but he haw-hawed so loudly as he explained to Mr.
Price the identity of the road agent that the judge of probate in the
next office thought his colleague had gone mad. Afterward Mr. Price stood
for some time in the entry, where no one could see him, scratching his
head and repeating his favorite exclamation, "I want to know!" It has
been ascertained that he omitted to pay his respects to the spinster on
that day.

Cyamon Johnson carried the story back to Coniston, where it had the
effect of eliminating Mr. Price from loc