, throw it to that sulky black hound over yonder in the
corner."

He nodded toward a young Negro in the rear of the room, the Bud
Johnson who had been the subject of the conversation with Turner.
Johnson replied with a curse. The constable advanced menacingly, his
hand moving toward his pocket. Quick as a flash the Negro threw
himself upon him. The other prisoners, from instinct, or prudence, or
hope of reward, caught him, pulled him away and held him off until
Haines, pale with rage, rose to his feet and began kicking his
assailant vigorously. With the aid of well-directed blows of his fists
he forced the Negro down, who, unable to regain his feet, finally,
whether from fear or exhaustion, lay inert, until the constable,
having worked off his worst anger, and not deeming it to his advantage
seriously to disable the prisoner, in whom he had a pecuniary
interest, desisted from further punishment.

"I might send you to the penitentiary for this," he said, panting for
breath, "but I'll send you to h--ll instead. You'll be sold back to
Mr. Fetters for a year or two tomorrow, and in three months I'll be
down at Sycamore as an overseer, and then I'll learn you to strike a
white man, you----"

The remainder of the objurgation need not be told, but there was no
doubt, from the expression on Haines's face, that he meant what he
said, and that he would take pleasure in repaying, in overflowing
measure, any arrears of revenge against the offending prisoner which he
might consider his due. He had stirred Bud up very successfully--much
more so, indeed, than he had really intended. He had meant to procure
evidence against Bud, but had hardly thought to carry it away in the
shape of a black eye and a swollen nose.

_Eight_

When the colonel set out next morning for a walk down the main street,
he had just breakfasted on boiled brook trout, fresh laid eggs, hot
muffins and coffee, and was feeling at peace with all mankind. He was
alone, having left Phil in charge of the hotel housekeeper. He had
gone only a short distance when he reached a door around which several
men were lounging, and from which came the sound of voices and loud
laughter. Stopping, he looked with some curiosity into the door, over
which there was a faded sign to indicate that it was the office of a
Justice of the Peace--a pleasing collocation of words, to those who
could divorce it from any technical significance--Justice, Peace--the
seed and the flow