you think something must be done in law, come
to me to-morrow with your witnesses, and we'll see what must be done."

"Jest as I expected," cried Bogle, turning on his heel in a swelling
rage. "Jest as I expected. You're as fit for a Square as my dog
Pomp--jest about! I'll go to Square Moss. Ye needn't trouble yourself
any more. He'll give me a warrant, I guess. And if I don't vote agin
you next year, then my name aint Simon Bogle!"

Away he trudged in a gnashing rage, muttering back his threats and
reproaches, and Fabens turned into the house and enjoyed his early tea.
By the time Bogle was home, however, he had altered his mind, and went
and consulted his witnesses, and ascertained more definitely what was
surmised, and what could be proved. Passing Troffater's on his way,
that incarnate mischief came out, and hailed him, saying, "Here, ho!
Bogle--hello there! How d'ye dew? come back, come back, and see a
feller! Don't be scornful!"

"I aint scornful. I'm in a hurry," grumbled Bogle.

"Wal, come back a minute--a man broke his neck in a hurry. What you
goin' to dew with Sculpin, eh? He hooked your log-chain, I heern,"
said Troffater.

"I'm goin' to see Square Fabens agin to-morrow, and try and fetch the
feller to justice. Sculpin _may_ be sorry for this. I know what I ken
prove," said Bogle.

"I don't b'lieve the Square will try 'im. I never could git a hearin'
of 'im. He's stiff as steelyards, and short as pie-crust since he got
in office. But mebby he'll knuckle a little to you. If he will, put
Sculpin through a course of sprouts, and larn 'im better'n to hook
log-chains. But I'm sorry I know anything about it; _I_ don't want to
go to court," said Troffater, with a mysterious elongation of his
little monkey face, and significant rollings and crossings of his black
and blue eyes.

"But what do you know, Troffater?" asked Bogie, with new light
animating his anxious eye and cheek. "What do you know? There's
somethin' to help me on a bit, I guess."

"O, I'm sorry I spoke," said Troffater, and spit through his teeth. "I
don't know nothin' about it. I don't want to go afore Fabens, and be
obleeged to look 'im in the face. I wish I'd never seen Sculpin, nor
his little thievin' capers."

"Don't bother me, now," said Bogle. "If ye know anything--and I bleeve
ye dew--out with it, and be my witness. I'm afraid it'll give me a
sweat to beat 'im arter all. Out with it, Tilly."

"O, go long!