And then that other thing come right on top of it."

"What other thing?"

"Say," demanded Mr. Meader, "don't you know?"

"I know nothing," said Austen.

"Didn't know Hilary Vane's be'n here?"

"My father!" Austen ejaculated.

"Gittin' after me pretty warm, so they be. Want to know what my price is
now. But say, I didn't suppose your fayther'd come here without lettin'
you know."

Austen was silent. The truth was that for a few moments he could not
command himself sufficiently to speak.

"He is the chief counsel for the road," he said at length; "I am not
connected with it."

"I guess you're on the right track. He's a pretty smooth talker, your
fayther. Just dropped in to see how I be, since his son was interested.
Talked a sight of law gibberish I didn't understand. Told me I didn't
have much of a case; said the policy of the railrud was to be liberal,
and wanted to know what I thought I ought to have."

"Well?" said Austen, shortly.

"Well," said Mr. Mender, "he didn't git a mite of satisfaction out of me.
I've seen enough of his kind of folks to know how to deal with 'em, and I
told him so. I asked him what they meant by sending that slick Mr.
Tooting 'raound to offer me five hundred dollars. I said I was willin' to
trust my case on that crossin' to a jury."

Austen smiled, in spite of his mingled emotions.

"What else did Mr. Vane say?" he asked.

Not a great sight more. Said a good many folks were foolish enough to
spend money and go to law when they'd done better to trust to the
liberality of the railrud. Liberality! Adams' widow done well to trust
their liberality, didn't she? He wanted to know one more thing, but I
didn't give him any satisfaction."

"What was that?"

"I couldn't tell you how he got 'raound to it. Guess he never did, quite.
He wanted to know what lawyer was to have my case. Wahn't none of his
affair, and I callated if you'd wanted him to know just yet, you'd have
toad him."

Austen laid his hand on the farmer's, as he rose to go.

"Zeb," he said, "I never expect to have a more exemplary client."

Mr. Mender shot a glance at him.

"Mebbe I spoke a mite too free about your fayther, Austen," he said; "you
and him seem kind of different."

"The Judge and I understand each other," answered Austen.

He had got as far as the door, when he stopped, swung on his heel, and
came back to the bedside.

"It's my duty to tell you, Zeb, that in order to hush this thing up they
may