N his way to Blackburn's store the next morning to inquire about the prisoner, Carson met Garner coming out of the barber-shop, where he had just been shaved.

“Any news?” Carson asked, in a guarded voice, though they were really out of earshot of any one.

“No actual news,” Garner replied, stroking his thickly powdered chin; “but I don't like the lay of the land.”

“What's up now?” Dwight asked.

“I don't know that there is anything wrong yet; but, my boy, discovery—discovery grim and threatening is in the very air about us.”

“What makes you think so, Garner?” They paused on the street crossing leading over to Blackbum's store.

“Oh, it's all due to old Linda and Lewis,” Garner said, in a tone of conviction. “You know I was dead against letting them know Pete was alive.”

“You think we made a mistake in that, then?” Carson said. “Well, the pressure was simply too strong, and I had to give way under it. But why do you think it was a bad move?”

“From the way it's turning out,” said Garner. “While Buck Black was shaving me just now he remarked that his wife had seen Uncle Lewis and Linda and that she thought they were acting very peculiarly. I asked him in as off-hand and careless a manner as I could what he meant, and he said that his wife didn't think they acted exactly as if they had just lost their only child. Buck said it looked like they were only pretending to be brokenhearted. I thought the best way to discourage him was to be silent, and so I closed my eyes and he went on with his work. Presently, however, he said bluntly, 'Look here, Colonel Garner'—Buck always calls me colonel—'where do you think they put that boy?' He had me there, you know, and I felt ashamed of myself. The idea of as good a lawyer as there is in this end of the State actually wiggling under the eye and tongue of a coon as black as the ace of spades! Finally I told him that, as well as I could gather, the Hillbend faction had put Pete out of the way, and were keeping it a secret to intimidate the negroes through their natural superstition. And what do you reckon Buck said. Huh, he'd make a good detective! He said he'd had his eye on the most rampant of the Hillbend men and that they didn't look like they'd lynched anything as big as a mouse. In fact, he thought they were on the lookout for a good opportunity in that line.”

“It certainly looks shaky,” Carson admitted, as they moved on to the store, where Blackburn stood waiting for them just inside the doorway.

“How did Pete pass the night?” Carson asked, his brow still clouded by the discouraging observations of his partner.

“Oh, all right,” Blackburn made reply. “Bob and Wade slept here on the counters. They say he snored like a saw-mill. They could hear him through the floor. Boys, I hate to dash cold water in your faces, but I never felt as shaky in my life.”

“What's the matter with you?” Garner asked, with an uneasy laugh.

“I'm afraid a storm is rising in an unexpected quarter,” said the store-keeper, furtively glancing up and down the street, and then leading them farther back into the store.

“Which quarter is that?” Carson asked, anxiously.

“The sheriff is acting odd—mighty odd,” said Blackburn.

“Good Lord! you don't think Braider's really on our trail do you?” Garner cried, in genuine alarm.

“Well, you two can make out what it means yourselves,” and Blackburn pulled at his short chin whiskers doggedly. “It was only about half an hour ago—Braider's drinking some, and was, perhaps, on that account a little more communicative—he came in here, his face as red as a pickled beet, and smelling like a bunghole in a whiskey-barrel, and leaned against the counter on the dry-goods side.

“'I'm the legally elected sheriff of this county, ain't I?' he said, in his maudlin way, and I told him he was by a big majority.

“'Well,' he said, after looking down at the floor for a minute, 'I'll bet you boys think I'm a dem slack wad of an officer.'

“I didn't know what the devil he was driving at, and so I simply kept my mouth shut, but you bet your life I had my ears open, for there was something in his eye that I didn't like, and then when he said 'you boys' in that tone I began to think he might be on to the work we did the other night.”

“Well, what next?” Carson asked, sharply. “Well, he just leaned on the counter, about to slide down every minute,” Blackburn went on, “and then he began to laugh in a silly sort of way and said, 'Them Hillbend fellers are a slick article, ain't they?' Of course I didn't know what to say,” said the store-keeper, “for he had his eyes on me and was grinning to beat the Dutch, and that is the kind of cross-examination I fail at. Finally, however, I managed to say that the Hillbend folks had beaten the others to the jail, anyway, and he broke out into another knowing laugh. 'The Hillbend gang didn't have as fur to go,' he said. 'Oh, they are a slick article, an' they've got a slick young leader.'”

“What else?” asked Carson, who looked very grave and stood with his lips pressed together.

“Nothing else,” Blackburn answered. “Just then Wiggin, your boon companion and bosom friend, stopped at the door and called him.”

“Good Lord, and with Wiggin!” Garner exclaimed. “Our cake is dough, and it's good and wet.”

“Yes, he's a Wiggin man!” said Blackburn. “I've known he was pulling against Carson for some time. It seems like Braider sized up the situation, and decided if he was going to be re-elected himself he'd better pool issues with the strongest man, and he picked that skunk as the winner. I went to the door and watched them. They went off, arm in arm, towards the court-house.”

“Braider is evidently on to us,” Carson decided, grimly; “and the truth is, he holds us in the palm of his hand. If he should insist on carrying out the law, and rearresting Pete and putting him back in jail, Dan Willis would see that he didn't stay there long, and Wiggin would swear out a warrant against us as the greatest law-breakers unhung.”

“Oh yes, the whole thing certainly looks shaky,” admitted Blackburn.

“I tell you one thing, Carson,” Garner observed, grimly, “there are no two ways about it, we are going to lose our client and your election just as sure as we stand here.”

“I don't intend to give up yet,” Dwight said, his lip twitching nervously and a fierce look of determination dawning in his eyes. “We've accomplished too much so far to fail ignominiously. Boys, I'd give everything I have to ward this thing off from old Aunt Linda. She's certainly borne enough.”

The two lawyers went to their office, avoiding the numerous groups of men about the stores who seemed occupied with the different phases of the ever-present topic. They seated themselves at their desks, and Garner was soon at work. But there was nothing for Carson to do, and he sat gloomily staring through the open doorway out into the sunshine. Presently he saw Braider across the street and called Garner's attention to him. Then to their surprise the sheriff turned suddenly and came directly towards them.

“Gee, here he comes!” Garner exclaimed; “he may want to pump us. Keep a sharp eye on him, Carson. He may really not know anything actually incriminating, after all. Watch him like a hawk!”