he 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 offer you more than you can get from a jury. In that case I should
have to advise you to accept."

He was aware that, while he made this statement, Zeb Meader's eyes were
riveted on him, and he knew that the farmer was weighing him in the
balance.

"Sell out?" exclaimed Mr. Meader. "You advise me to sell out?"

Austen did not get angry. He understood this man and the people from
which he sprang.

"The question is for you to decide--whether you can get more money by a
settlement."

"Money!" cried Zeb Meader, "I have found it pretty hard to git, but
there's some things I won't do for it. There's a reason why they want
this case hushed up, the way they've be'n actin'. I ain't lived in Mercer
and Putnam County all my life for nothin'. Hain't I seen 'em run their
dirty politics there under Brush Bascom for the last twenty-five years?
There's no man has an office or a pass in that county but what Bascom
gives it to him, and Bascom's the railrud tool." Suddenly Zeb raised
himself in bed. "Hev' they be'n tamperin' with you?" he demanded.

"Yes," answered Austen, dispassionately. He had hardly heard what Zeb had
said; his mind had been going onward. "Yes. They sent me an annual pass,
and I took it back."

Zeb Meader did not speak for a few moments.

"I guess I was a little hasty, Austen," he said at length.

"I might have known you wouldn't sell out. If you're' willin' to take the
risk, you tell 'em ten thousand dollars wouldn't tempt me."

"All right, Zeb," said Austen.

He left the hospital and struck out acros