look_ like it," said Stebbins, jumping down at last, but
still speaking under his breath.

"Waal, thar ain't no countin' on boys by the _outside_ on 'em," returned
the constable emphatically; he had an unruly son of his own.

The sheriff walked up to Barney.

"You're Barney Pratt, are you? Well, youngster, you'll come along with
us."

There was silence for a moment. Barney stared at him in amaze. Not until
he had caught sight of the constable, whom he knew in his official
character, did he understand the full meaning of what had been said. He
was under arrest!

As he realized it, everything began to whirl before him. The yellow
sunshine, the gorgeously tinted woods, the blue sky, and the silvery
mists hovering about the distant mountains, were all confusedly mingled
in his failing vision.

He looked as if he were about to faint. But in a few minutes he had
partially recovered himself.

"I dunno what this air done ter me fur," he said tremulously, glancing
up at the officer whose hand was on his shoulder.

"Hain't ye been doin' nothin' mean lately?" demanded Jim Dow sternly.

Barney shook his head.

"Let's see ef this won't remind ye," said the constable, producing the
bit of jeans and the button.

As Nick watched Barney turning the piece of cloth in his hand and
examining the button, he felt a terrible pang of remorse. But he was
none the less resolved to keep the freedom from danger which he had
secured at the expense of his friend. To explain would be merely to
exchange places with Barney, and he was silent.

"This hyar looks like a scrap o' my coat," said Barney, utterly unaware
of the significance of his words. As he fitted it into the jagged edges
of the garment, the officers watched the proceeding closely. "'Pears
like ter me ez it war jerked right out thar--yes--kase hyar air the
missin' button, too."

His air of unconsciousness puzzled the sheriff. "Do you know where you
lost this scrap?" he asked.

"Somewhars 'mongst the briers in the woods, I reckon," replied Barney.

"No; you tore it on a blackberry bush on the ledge of a bluff; it was
close to the Conscripts' Hollow, where some burglars have hidden stolen
plunder. I found the scrap and the button there myself."

Barney felt as if he were dreaming. How should his coat be torn on that
ledge, where he had not been since the cloth was woven!

The next words almost stunned him.

"Ye see, sonny," said the constable, "we believes ye're the bo