Wiltshire, and
there's where it is."

"They won't go near me? What do you mean by that? Why won't they go near
me?" I cried.

Case hesitated. "Seems they're frightened," says he in a low voice.

I stopped dead short. "Frightened?" I repeated. "Are you gone crazy,
Case? What are they frightened of?"

"I wish I could make out," Case answered, shaking his head. "Appears
like one of their tomfool superstitions. That's what I don't cotton to,"
he said. "It's like the business about Vigours."

"I'd like to know what you mean by that, and I'll trouble you to tell
me," says I.

"Well, you know, Vigours lit out and left all standing," said he. "It
was some superstition business--I never got the hang of it; but it began
to look bad before the end."

"I've heard a different story about that," said I, "and I had better
tell you so. I heard he ran away because of you."

"O! well, I suppose he was ashamed to tell the truth," says Case; "I
guess he thought it silly. And it's a fact that I packed him off. 'What
would you do, old man?' says he.--'Get,' says I, 'and not think twice
about it.' I was the gladdest kind of man to see him clear away. It
ain't my notion to turn my back on a mate when he's in a tight place,
but there was that much trouble in the village that I couldn't see where
it might likely end. I was a fool to be so much about with Vigours. They
cast it up to me to-day. Didn't you hear Maea--that's the young chief,
the big one--ripping out about 'Vika'? That was him they were after.
They don't seem to forget it, somehow."

"This is all very well," said I, "but it don't tell me what's wrong; it
don't tell me what they're afraid of--what their idea is."

"Well, I wish I knew," said Case. "I can't say fairer than that."

"You might have asked, I think," says I.

"And so I did," says he. "But you must have seen for yourself, unless
you're blind, that the asking got the other way. I'll go as far as I
dare for another white man; but when I find I'm in the scrape myself, I
think first of my own bacon. The loss of me is I'm too good-natured. And
I'll take the freedom of telling you you show a queer kind of gratitude
to a man who's got into all this mess along of your affairs."

"There's a thing I am thinking of," said I. "You were a fool to be so
much about with Vigours. One comfort, you haven't been much about with
me. I notice you've never been inside my house. Own up now; you had word
of this before?"

"It's a