"Gus," said Mr. Sanders, without any ceremony, "you remember the row you
come mighty nigh havin' wi' Tomlin Perdue, not so many years ago?"

"Yes; I remember something of it," replied Mr. Tidwell. He was a man who
ordinarily went with his head held low, as though engaged in deep
thought. When spoken to he straightened up, and thereby seemed to add
several inches to his height.

"Well, it's got to be done over ag'in," remarked Mr. Sanders. "It
happened in Malvern, didn't it?"

"Yes, in the depot," replied Mr. Tidwell. "We were both on our way to
Atlanta, and the Major misunderstood something I had said."

"Egzackly! Well, it must be done over ag'in."

Mr. Tidwell lowered his head and appeared to reflect. Then he
straightened up again, and his face was very serious. "Mr. Sanders, has
Tomlin Perdue been dropping his wing about that fuss? Has he been making
remarks?"

"Oh, I reckon not," replied Mr. Sanders cheerfully. "But I've got a
mighty good reason for axin' you about it. Come in your office, Gus, an'
I'll tell you all I know, an' it won't take me two minnits."

They went in and closed the door, and remained in consultation for some
time. While they were thus engaged, Silas Tomlin came to the door, tried
the bolt, and finding that it would not yield, walked restlessly up and
down, preyed upon by many strange and conflicting emotions. He had
evidently gone through much mental suffering. His face was drawn and
haggard, and his clothes were shabbier than ever. He took no account of
time, but walked up and down, waiting for Mr. Tidwell to come out, and
as he walked he was the victim both of his fears and his affections. One
moment, he heartily wished that he might never see his son again; the
next he would have given everything he possessed to have the boy back,
and hear once more the familiar, "Hello, father!"

After awhile, Mr. Sanders and Mr. Tidwell came forth from the lawyer's
office. They appeared to be in fine humour, for both were laughing, as
though some side-splitting joke had just passed between them.

"There's no doubt about it, Mr. Sanders," Lawyer Tidwell was saying,
"you ought to be a major-general!"

"I declare, Tidwell!" exclaimed Silas, with something like indignation,
"I don't see how you can go around happy and laughing under the
circumstances. You do like you could fetch your son back with a laugh. I
wish I could fetch Paul back that way."

"Well, he'd stay whar he is, Silas," said Mr.