hung.

It was county court day, and the sheriff and the clerk of the court were
sitting peaceably in armchairs on the little porch of the court-house.
As Nicholas passed with a greeting, they turned from a languid
discussion of the points of a brindle cow in the street to follow
mentally his powerful figure.

"I reckon he's got more muscle than any man in town," remarked the
sheriff in a reflective drawl. "Unless Phil Bates, the butcher, could
knock him out. Like to see 'em at each other, wouldn't you?" he added
with a laugh.

The clerk carefully tilted his chair back against the wall and surveyed
his outstretched feet. "Like to live to see him stumping this State for
Congress," he replied. "There goes the brainiest man these parts have
produced since before the war--the people want their own men, and it's
time they had 'em."

Nicholas passed on to Tom's office, and, finding it empty, turned back
to the judge's house, where he found father and son breakfasting
opposite each other at a table bright with silver and chrysanthemums.

They hospitably implored him to join them, but he shook his head,
motioning away the plate which old Caesar would have laid before him.

"I wanted to ask Tom if he had heard this--this lie about me," he said
quickly.

Tom looked up, flushing warmly.

"Why, who's been such a blamed fool as to tell you?" he demanded.

"You have heard it?"

"It isn't worth hearing. I called Jerry Pollard up at once, and he swore
he was all wrong--the girl herself exonerates you. Nobody believed it."

Nicholas crushed the brim of his hat in a sudden grip.

"Some believe it," he returned slowly. He sat down at the table, smiling
gratefully at the judge's protestations.

"They aren't all like you, sir," he declared. "I wish they were. This
world would be a little nearer heaven--a little less like hell."

There was a trail of lingering bitterness in his voice, and in a moment
he added quickly: "Do you know, I'd like to get away for a time. I've
changed my mind about caring to live here. If they'd send me up to the
legislature next year, I'd make a new beginning."

The judge shook his head.

"I doubt the wisdom of it, my boy," he said. But Tom caught at the
suggestion.

"Send you," he repeated. "Of course; they'll send you from here to
Jericho, if you say so. Why, there's no end to your popularity among
men. Where the ladies are concerned, I modestly admit that I have the
advantage of you; but t