It is seldom, in this world at least, that a man who absents himself from church repents it with the fervour of regret which Amos James experienced when he heard of the unexpected proceedings at the Notch.

'Sech a rumpus—dad-burn my luck—I mought never git the chance ter see agin!' he declared with a pious sense of deprivation. And he thought it had been a poor substitute to sit on the doorstep all the forenoon Sunday, 'ez lonesome ez a b'ar in a hollow tree,' because his heart was yet so sore and sensitive that he could not see Dorinda's pink sun-bonnet without a rush of painful emotion, or her face without remembering how she looked when he talked of the rescue of Rick Tyler.

The 'gang o' men'—actively described by his mother as 'lopin' roun' the mill'—lingered long in conclave this morning. Perhaps their views had a more confident and sturdy effect from being propounded at the top of the voice, since the insistent whirr of the busy old mill drowned all efforts in a lower tone; but it was very generally the opinion that Micajah Green had transcended all the license of his official character in making the arrest at the place and time he had selected.

'I knows,' commented one of the disaffected, 'ez it air the law o' Tennessee ez a arrest kin be made of a Sunday, ef so be it must. But 'pears like ter me 'twar nuthin' in this worl' but malice an' meanness ez tuk ch'ice o' the minute the man hed stood up ter preach the Word ter arrest him. 'Cajah Green mus' hev tuk keerful heed o' time—jes' got thar spang on the minute.'

'He w-warn't p-p-preachin' the Word,' stuttered Pete Cayce antagonistically. 'He hed 'jest 'lowed he w-w-warn't fit ter preach it. No more war he.'

He had come down from the still to treat for meal for the mash. He was willing to wait—nay anxious, that he might bear his share in the conversation.

He tilted his chair back against the wall, and nodded his long, drab-tinted locks convincingly.

The water whirled around the wheel; the race foamed with prismatic bubbles, flashing opal-like in the sun; the vague lapsing of the calm depths in the pond was like some deep sigh, as of the fulness of happiness or reflective content—not pain. The water falling over the dam babbled in a meditative undertone. All sounds were dominated by the whirr of the mill in its busy, industrial monody, and within naught else could be heard, save the strident voices pitched on the miller's key and roaring the gossip.

Through the window could be seen the rocky banks opposite, their summits tufted with huckleberry and sassafras bushes and many a tangle of weeds; the dark shadow in the water below; the slope of the mountain rising above. A branch, too, of the low-spreading chestnut-oak, that hung above the roof of the mill, was visible, swaying close without; it cast a tempered shade over the long cobwebs depending from the rafters, whitened by the dust of the flour.

The rough, undressed timbers within were of that mellow, rich tint, intermediate between yellow and brown, so restful to the eye. The floor was littered with bags of corn, on which some of the men lounged; others sat in the few chairs, and Amos James leaned against the hopper.

'Waal,' retorted the first speaker, 'ez fur ez 'Cajah Green could know, he'd hev been a-preachin' then, an' argyfyin' his own righteousness; an' 'Cajah laid off ter kem a-steppin' in with his warrant ter prove him a liar an' convict him o' sinnin' agin the law 'fore his congregation.'

''Pears like ter me ez pa'son war sorter forehanded,' said Pete captiously. 'He hed proved hisself a liar 'fore the sher'ff got thar; saved 'Cajah the trouble.'

'I hearn,' said another man, 'ez pa'son up-ed an' 'lowed ez he didn't b'lieve in the Lord, an' prophesied his own downfall an' his trial 'fore the sher'ff got thar.'

'He d-d-did!' shouted Pete. 'We never knowed much more arter 'Cajah an' the dep'ty kem 'n we did afore. Pa'son said they'd gird him an' t-t-take him whar he didn't want ter g-go—an' so they d-d-d-did.'

'D-d-did what?' mockingly demanded Amos James, with unnecessary rancour, it might have seemed.

Pete's infirmity became more pronounced under this cavalier treatment.

'T-t-take him w-w-w-whar he didn't w-w-w-want'—explosively—'ter go, ye fool!'

'Whar?'

'D'ye reckon that he wanted ter go ter jail in Shaftesville?' demanded Pete, with scathing scorn.

His sneering lip exposed his long, protruding teeth, and his hard-featured face was unusually repellant.

'Hev they tuk him ter jail—the pa'son—Pa'son Kelsey?' exclaimed Amos James, in a deeply serious tone.

He looked fixedly at Pete, as if he might thus express more than he said in words. There was indignation in his black eyes, even reproach. He still leaned on the hopper, but there was nothing between the stones, for he had forgotten to pour in more corn, and the industrious flurry of the unsentient old mill was like the bustle of many clever people—a great stir about nothing. He wore his broad-brimmed white hat far back on his head. His black hair was sprinkled with flour and meal, and along the curves of his features the snowy flakes had congregated in thin lines, bringing out the olive tint of his complexion, and intensifying the sombre depths of his eyes.

Pete returned the allusion to his defective speech by a comment on the intentness of the miller's gaze.

'Ye look percisely like a ow-el, Amos—percisely like a old horned ho-ho-hooter,' he declared, with a laugh. 'Ya-as,' he continued,' they did take pa'son ter jail, bein' ez the jestice that the sher'ff tuk him afore—old Squair Prine, ye know—h-he couldn't decide ez ter his g-guilt. The Squair air so onsartain in his mind, an' wavers so ez ter his knowledge, that I hev hearn ez ev'y day he counts his toes ter make sure he's got ten. So the old Squair h-hummed and h-h-hawed over the evidence, an' he 'l-lowed ter Pa'son K-Kelsey ez he couldn't b'lieve nuthin' agin him right handy, ez he hed sot under his p-preachin' many a time an' profited by it; but thar war his cur'ous performin' 'bout'n the gaynder whilst Rick got off, an' he hed hearn ez pa'son turned his back on the Lord in a s'prisin' way. Then the Squair axed how he kem ter prophesy his own arrest ef he hed done nuthin' ter bring it on. The Squair 'lowed 'twar a serious matter, a pen'tiary offence; an' he warn't cl'ar in his own mind; an he up-ed an' down-ed, an' twisted an' turned, an' he didn't know what ter do: so the e-end war he jes' committed Pa'son Kelsey ter jail, ter await the action of the g-g-g-gran' jury.'

Pete gave this detail with some humour, wagging his head back and forth to imitate the magisterial treatment of the quandary, and putting up first one hand, then the other, stretching out first one rough boot, then the other, to signify the various points of the dilemma.

Amos James did not laugh. He still gravely gazed at the narrator.

'Whyn't he git bail?' he demanded gruffly.

'Waal, he didn't—'kase he couldn't. The old man, he fixed the bail without so much dilly-dallyin' an' jouncin' 'roun' in his mind ez ye mought expec'. He jes' put on his specs, an' polished his old bald noodle with his red h-h-handkercher, an' tuk a fraish chaw o' terbacco, an' put his nose in his book, an' tuk it out ter brag ez them crazy bugs in N-N-Nashvul sent him a book ev'y time they made a batch o' new laws—pore, prideful old critter mus' hev been lyin'!—an' then he put his nose in his book agin like he smelt the law an' trailed it by scent. 'Twarn't more'n haffen hour 'fore he tuk it out, an' say the least bail he could take war a thousand d-d-dollars fur the defendant, an' five hunderd fur each of his sureties—like it hev been in ev'y sech case 'fore a jestice s-sence the Big Smoky Mountings war made.'

Pete laughed, his great fore-teeth, his flexible lip, his long, bony face and tangled mane giving him something of an equine aspect. His mood was unusually jocular; and, indeed, a man might experience some elation of spirit to be the only one of the 'lopers round' at the mill who had been present at a trial of such significance. The close attention accorded his every word demonstrated the interest in the subject, and the guffaws which greeted his sketch of the familiar character of the old 'Squair' was a flattering tribute to his skill as a raconteur. The peculiar antagonism of his disposition was manifested only in the delay and digressions by which he thwarted Amos James's eagerness to know why Parson Kelsey had not been admitted to bail. He could not accurately interpret the indignation in the miller's look, and he cared less for the threat it expressed. Cowardice was not predicable of one of the Cayce tribe. Perhaps it might have been agreeable for the community if the discordant Pete could have been more readily intimidated.

'Whyn't pa'son gin the bail, then?' demanded Amos again.

'He did gin it,' returned Pete perversely.

'Waal, then, how'd the sher'ff take him ter jail?'

'Right down the county road, ez ye an' me an' the rest of us hyar in the Big Smoky hev worked on till sech c-c-cattle ez 'Cajah Green an' his buzzardy dep'ty hain't got no sort'n c-chance o' breakin' thar necks over the rocks an' sech.'

'Look-a-hyar, Pete Cayce, I'll fling ye bodaciously over that thar bluff!' exclaimed Amos James, darkly frowning.

A rat that had boldly run across the floor a number of times, its whiskers powdered white, its tail white also, and gaily frisking behind it, had ventured so close to the miller's motionless foot, that when he stepped hastily forward it sprang into the air with a wonderfully human expression of fright; then, in a sprawling fashion, it swiftly sped away to some dark corner, where it might meditate on the escaped danger and take heed of foolhardiness.

'W-w-what would I be a-doin' of, Amos Jeemes, whilst ye war a-flingin' m-me over the b-b-bluff?' demanded Pete pertinently.

'What ails ye, ter git tuk so suddint in yer temper, Amos?' asked another of the baffled listeners, who desired to promote peace and further the account of Parson Kelsey's examination before the magistrate. 'Amos jes' axed ye, Pete, why pa'son warn't admitted ter bail.'

'H-h-he never none now,' said Pete. 'He axed w-w-why Pa'son Kelsey didn't g-gin bail. He did gin it, but 't-twarn't accepted.'

'What fur?' demanded Amos, relapsing into interest in the subject, and leaning back against the hopper.

'Waal,' said Pete, preferring, on the whole, the distinction of relating the proceedings before the magistrate to the more familiar diversion of bickering, 'pa'son he 'lowed he'd gin his gran'dad an' his uncle ter go on his bond; an' the Squair, arter he hed stuck his nose into his book a couple o' times, an' didn't see nuthin' abolishin' gran'dads an' uncles, he tuk it out an' refraished it with a pinch o' snuff, an' 'lowed he'd take gran'dad an' uncle on the bond. An' then up jumped Gid Fletcher, the blacksmith over yander ter the Settlemint—him it war ez swore out the warrant—and demanded the Squair would hear his testimony agin it. That thar 'Cajah Green, he sick-ed him on, all the time. I seen Gid Fletcher storp suddint wunst, an' wall his eye 'round onsartin' at 'Cajah Green, ez ef ter make sure he war a-sayin' all right. An' 'Cajah Green, he batted his eye, ez much ez ter say, "Go it, old hoss!" Sure ez ye air born them two fixed it up aforehand.'

'I do de-spise that thar critter, 'Cajah Green!' exclaimed one of the men, who was sitting on a sack of corn in the middle of the floor. 'He fairly makes the trigger o' my rifle itch! I hope he won't kem out ahead at the August election. The Big Smoky'll hev ter git him beat somehows; we can't hev him aggervatin' 'roun' hyar another two year.'

The fore-legs of Pete Cayce's tilted chair came down with a thump. He leaned forward, and with a marked gesture offered his big horny paw to the man who sat on the bag of corn; they solemnly shook hands as on a compact.

Amos James still leaned against the empty hopper, listening with a face of angry gloom as Pete recommenced:

'Waal, the Squair, he put his nose inter his book agin, an' then he 'lowed he'd hear Gid Fletcher's say-so. An' Gid—waal, he'll be mighty good metal fur the devil's anvil; I feel it in my bones how Satan will rej'ice ter draw Gid Fletcher down small—he got up an' 'lowed ez pa'son an' his uncle an' his gran'dad didn't wuth two thousand dollars. They hed what they hed all tergether, an' 'twarn't enough—'twarn't wuth more'n a thousan', ef that. An' so the Squair—waal, he looked toler'ble comical, a-nosin' in his book an' a-polishin' off the torp o' his head with his red handkercher, an' he war ez oneasy an' onsartain in his actions ez a man consortin' accidentally with a bumbly bee. He tried 'em all powerful in thar temper, bein' so gin over ter backin' an' fo'thin'; but ez he war the jestice they hed ter sot 'round an' look solemn an' respec'ful. An' at las' he said he couldn't accept the bail, ez 'twar insufficient. The dep'ty looked like h'd jump up and down, an' crack his heels together; 'peared like he war glad fur true. An' the Squair, he 'lowed ez the rescue war a crime ez mought make a jestice keerful how he tuk insufficient bail. Ennybody ez would holp a man ter escape from cust'dy would jump his bond hisself, though he war toler'ble keerful ter explain ter pa'son ez he never ondertook ter charge nuthin' on him, nuther. An' he hed ter bear in mind ez he oc'pied a m-m-mighty important place in the l-law—though I can't see ez it air so mighty important ter h-h-hev ter say, "I dunno; let the court decide."'

Amos James remembered the hopper at last. He turned, and, as he lifted a bag and poured in the corn, he asked, his eyes on the golden stream of grain:

'An' what did pa'son say when he fund it out?'

Pete Cayce laughed, his big teeth making the facetious demonstration peculiarly pronounced. He was looking out of the window, through the leafy bough of the overspreading chestnut-oak, at the deep, transparent water in the pond. The dark, lustrous reflection of the sassafras and huckleberry bushes on the summit of the vertical rocky bank was like some mezzotinted landscape under glass. A frog on one of the ledges at the waterside was a picture of amphibious content; sometimes his mouth opened and shut quickly, with an expression, if not beautiful, implying satisfaction. Pete lazily caught up a stick which he had been whittling. The slight missile flew through the air, catching the light as it went. Its aim was accurate, and the next moment the monotony of the placid surface was broken by the elastically widening circles above the spot where the frog jumped in.

'The pa'son,' he said languidly, having satisfactorily concluded this exploit—'at fust it looked like the c-critter couldn't make it out—he 'peared toler'ble peaked an' white-faced, but the way he behaved ter the sher'ff 'minds me o' the tales the old men tell 'bout'n Hangin' Maw an' Bloody Feller, an' them t'other wild Injuns that useter aggervate the white folks in the Big Smoky—proud an' straight, an' lookin' at 'Cajah Green ez ef he war jes' the dirt under his feet. Waal, pa'son 'lowed, calm an' quiet, ez I'd be skinnin' a deer or suthin', ez he'd ruther be obligated ter his own f-folks fur that holp, but ez that couldn't be he'd git bail from others. 'Twarn't m-much matter jes' till he could 'pear 'fore the court, fur nuthin' could be easier'n ter prove ez he hedn't rescued Rick Tyler, nor never gin offence agin the law. An' he turned round ez s-s-sure an' quiet ter Pa'son Tobin, who hed kem along ter see what mought be a-doin', an' sez he, "B-Brother Jake Tobin, you-uns an' some o' the c-church folks, I know, will be 'sponsible fur the bail." An' ef ye'll b'lieve me, Brother Jake Tobin, he got up slanch-wise, and in sech a hurry the cheer fell over ahint him; an' sez he, "Naw, brother—I will call ye brother,"—like that war powerful 'commodatin'—"I kin not sot my p-people ter do sech, arter yer words yestiddy. We kin lose no money by ye—the church air pore an' the cause air needy. I kin only pray fur the devil ter l-loose his holt on ye, f-fur I perceive the devil in ye." Waal, sir,' continued Pete, drawing a plug of tobacco from his pocket, and gnawing on it with tugging persistence, 'Christian perfesser ez I be, I felt sorter 'shamed o' Brother J-Jake Tobin—he looked s-s-sech a skerry h-half-liver, 'feard o' losin' money! Shucks! I could sca'cely keep my hands off 'n him. He looked so—so cur'ous, I wanted ter—ter'—he remembered the reverence due to the cloth—'ter trip him up,' he concluded temperately. 'An' then, ez he war a-whurlin' his fat sides around ter pick up the cheer, Pa'son K-Kelsey—he hed t-turned plumb bleached, like a corpse—he stood up, an' sez, "The Lord hev fursaken me!" An' Brother Jake Tobin humps around, with the cheer in his hand, an' sez, "Naw, brother, naw, ye hev fursook the Lord!"'

'Waal,' said the man on the bag of corn, gazing meditatively at the dusty floor and at a great yellow cur who had ventured within, as a shelter from the mid-day heat, and lay at ungainly length asleep near the door, 'I dunno ez I kin blame Brother Jake Tobin. 'Twould hev made a mighty scandal ter keep Pa'son Kelsey in the church, arter what he said agin' the faith. We'll hev ter turn him out; an' ez he air ter be turned out, I dunno ez the church members hev enny call ter go on his bond. He air none o' we-uns, nowadays.'

'Leastwise none o' 'em war a-goin' t-ter do it,' said Pete quietly. 'They air all mindful o' Brother Jake Tobin's longest ear, ez kin hear a call from the church yander in Cade's Cove ev'y time he g-gits mad at 'em. But I tell ye,' added Pete, restoring his plug of tobacco to his pocket, and chewing hard on the bit which his strong teeth had wrenched off, 'it did 'pear to me ez they mought hev stretched a p'int when I see the pa'son ridin' off with them two sneakin' off'cers. He hed so nigh los' his senses with the notion he war a-goin' ter be jailed ez they had ter hold him up in the saddle, else he'd hev been under the beastis's huffs in a minute.'

'Whyn't you-uns go on his bond?' asked Amos James suddenly.

'Who?' shouted Pete, in stentorian amaze, above the clamour of the old mill.

'You-uns—the whole Cayce lay-out,' reiterated Amos James.

His blood had risen to his face. All the instincts of justice within him revolted at the picture Pete had drawn, coarsely and crudely outlined, but touched with the vivid realities of nature. It was as a scene present before him: the falsely accused man borne away, crushed with shame, while the true criminal looked on with a lax conscience and an impersonal interest, and thriftily saved his observations to recount to his cronies at the mill.

Amos James cared naught for the outraged majesty of the law. The rescue of the prisoner from its fierce talons seemed to him, instead, humane and beneficent. His sense of justice was touched only by the manifest cruelty when one man was forced to bear the consequences of another's act.

'You-uns mought hev done ez much,' he said significantly.

'I reckon they would hev 'lowed ez we warn't wuth it,' said Pete, quietly ruminant; 'the still can't show up.'

'Ye never tried it,' said Amos.

'Waal, d-dad, he warn't thar, an' I couldn't ondertake ter speak for the rest. An' I ain't beholden no ways to Pa'son Kelsey. I hev no call ter b-b-bail him ez I knows on. I hev no hand in his bein' arrested an' sech.'

'Hev no hand in his bein' arrested!' retorted Amos scornfully.

Pete was staring stolidly at him, and the other men assumed an intent, inquiring attitude.

Amos James felt suddenly that he had gone too far. He had no wish to fasten this stigma upon the Cayces; he had every reason to avoid it. He did not know how far he had been accounted a confidant in the intimacies of the cave when Rick Tyler had found a refuge there. He could not disregard the trust reposed in him. And yet he could not recall his words.

Pete's blank gaze changed to an amazed comprehension. He spoke out bluntly the thought in the other's mind.

'Ye air a-thinkin', Amos Jeemes, ez 'twar we-uns ez cut Rick Tyler a-loose o' the sher'ff!' he exclaimed.

Amos, confronted with his own suspicion, listened with a guilty air.

'Ye air surely the b-b-b-biggest f-f-f-fool'—the words seemed very large with these additional consonants—'in the shadder o' the B-b-b-Big S-s-s-sm-Smoky M-m-Mountings!' Pete spread them out with all the magnifying facilities of his infirmity.

'Waal, then,' said Amos, crestfallen, 'who done it?'

'Why, P-Pa'son Kelsey, I reckon.'