as much by him?' so I come
back, and found him gone."

"What was in the kittle?" Stackridge took him by the throat.

"O, don't go fur to layin' it to me, and I'll tell ye! Thar'd been tar
in the kittle! It had been used to give him a coat. That's the fact,
durn me if it ain't! They put it on with the broom--my broom--they made
me bring my own broom, that's the everlastin' truth! made me do it
myself, and spile my wife's best broom into the bargain!" And Pepperill
sobbed.

"You put on the tar?"

"Don't kill me, and I'll own up! I did put on some on't, that's a fact.
Ropes would a' killed me if I hadn't, and now you kill me fur doin' of
it. He did knock me down, 'cause he said I didn't rub it on hard enough;
and arter that he rubbed it himself."

"What next, you scoundrel?"

"Next, they rolled him in the feathers, and sent me, as I told ye, to
tote the kittle home. Now don't, don't go fur to hang me, Mr.
Stackridge! Help me, men! help me, Withers,--Devit! For he means to be
the death of me, I'm shore!"

Indeed, Stackridge was in a tremendous passion, and would, no doubt,
have done the man some serious injury but for the timely interposition
of Carl.

"O, you're a good boy, Carl!" cried Dan, in an exstasy of terror and
gratitude. "You know they druv me to it, don't ye? You know I wouldn't
have gone fur to do it no how, if 't hadn't been to save my life. And as
fur rubbing on the tar, I know'd they'd rub harder 'n I did; so I took
holt, if only to do it more soft and gentle-like."

Carl testified to Dan's apparent unwillingness to participate in the
outrage; and Stackridge, finding that nothing more could be got out of
the terror-stricken wretch, flung him off in great rage and disgust.

"We must find what they have done with Hapgood," he said. "We're losing
time here. We'll go to his boarding-place first."

As Pepperill fell backwards upon some stones, and lay there helplessly,
Carl ran to him to learn if he was hurt.

"Wal, I be hurt some," murmured Dan; "a good deal in my back, and a
durned sight more in my feelin's. As if I wan't sufferin' a'ready the
pangs of death--wus'n death!--a thinkin' about the master, and what's
been done to him, arter he'd been so kind to me--and thinkin' he'd think
I'm the ongratefulest cuss out of the bad place!--and then to have it
all laid on to me by Stackridge and the rest! that's the stun that hurts
me wust of any!"

Carl thought, if that was all, he could not assist hi