an, quite naturally to unbuckle the breechings
and loose the traces, which he did with such deftness and celerity that
he had the horse unharnessed and in the stall in a twinkling, and had
hauled the buggy through the stable door, the Honourable Hilary watching
him the while. He was troubled, but for the life of him could find no
adequate words, who usually had the dictionary at his disposal.

"Didn't write me why you came home," said the Honourable Hilary, as his
son washed his hands at the spigot.

"Didn't I? Well, the truth was I wanted to see you again, Judge."

His father grunted, not with absolute displeasure, but suspiciously.

"How about Blodgett?" he asked.

"Blodgett? Have you heard about that? Who told you?"

"Never mind. You didn't. Nothing in your letter about it."

"It wasn't worth mentioning," replied Austen. "Tyner and the boys liked
it pretty well, but I didn't think you'd be interested. It was a local
affair."

"Not interested! Not worth mentioning!" exclaimed the Honourable Hilary,
outraged to discover that his son was modestly deprecating an achievement
instead of defending a crime. "Godfrey! murder ain't worth mentioning, I
presume."

"Not when it isn't successful," said Austen. "If Blodgett had succeeded,
I guess you'd have heard of it before you did."

"Do you mean to say this Blodgett tried to kill you?" demanded the
Honourable Hilary.

"Yes," said his son, "and I've never understood why he didn't. He's a
good deal better shot than I am."

The Honourable Hilary grunted, and sat down on a bucket and carefully
prepared a piece of Honey Dew. He was surprised and agitated.

"Then why are you a fugitive from justice if you were acting in
self-defence?" he inquired.

"Well, you see there were no witnesses, except a Mexican of Blodgett's,
and Blodgett runs the Pepper County machine for the railroad out there.
I'd been wanting to come East and have a look at you for some time, and I
thought I might as well come now."

"How did this--this affair start?" asked Mr. Vane.

"Blodgett was driving in some of Tyner's calves, and I caught him. I told
him what I thought of him, and he shot at me through his pocket. That was
all."

"All! You shot him, didn't you?"

"I was lucky enough to hit him first," said Austen.

Extraordinary as it may seem, the Honourable Hilary experienced a sense
of pride.

"Where did you hit him?" he asked.

It was Euphrasia who took matters in her own hands and