'seekin' no favours from
ther Governor."

"Why hain't ye?" Saul lowered his voice a little for added effect. "Ye
faces a murder trial, don't ye? I reckon a Republican Governor, next
time, mout be right willin' ter grant ye a pardon ef ye laid by yore own
grievances fer ther good of ther party--hit wouldn't be no more'n fa'r
jestice."

"What guaranty does these enemies of mine offer me?" inquired Asa
coolly. "Does they aim ter meet me half way?"

"Hit's like this," Saul spoke now with undisguised excitement: "Ther
boys air holdin' a rally ternight over at ther incline.... A big lawyer
from Loueyville is makin' a speech thar.... They wants thet I shell
fotch ye back along with me--an' thet ye shan't tote no rifle-gun ner no
weepin' of airy sort. Tom Carr'll be thar too--unarmed."

At the name Asa Gregory flinched as if he had been smitten in the face,
but the messenger went persuasively on:

"Thar'll be es many of our folks thar es his'n. They'll be consortin'
tergither plum peaceable--twell ye walks inter ther room. Them Gregories
an' them Carrs air all armed. Hit's jest you an' Tom thet hain't. When
we comes inter ther place, Tom'll start down ther aisle to'rds ye--an'
you'll start up to'rds Tom." The speaker paused, and Asa prompted in a
low, restrained voice, though his face was chalky pale with smothered
emotion:

"Go on! I'm hearkenin'."

Saul shrugged his shoulders. "Wa'al, thet's all. Ye knows ther rest es
well es I does. Them fellers on both sides air trustin' their lives ter
ther two of ye. Ef you an' Tom shakes hands they'll all ride home quiet
as turtle-doves--an' take off th'ar coats ter beat this man fer
Governor. Ef you an' Tom _don't_ shake hands--or ef one or t'other of ye
makes a single fightin' move, every gun under thet roof'll start poppin'
an ther place'll be a slaughter house. They all knows thet full well.
Ther lawyer knows hit, too--an' he's a'riskin' hit fer ther sake of his
party."

The indicted man took a step forward. "Stand up hyar an' look me in ther
eyes," he commanded shortly, and, when Fulton rose, they stood, face to
face, so close that each could feel the breath of the other's lips.

The steady brown eyes bored into the shiftier pupils of greenish-gray
with an implacable searching, and Asa's voice came in an uncompromising
hardness:

"Saul, ye're askin' me ter trust ye right far. I hain't got nothin' but
yore word fer hit thet thar'll be airy man over thar at thet meetin' b