outspread and bowed ponderously.

The boy saw a man of sixty, whose gross and battered visage told its own
story. There was a sparse white frost about his ears; and his eyes,
pale blue and prominent, looked out from under beetling brows. He wore
a shabby plum-colored coat and tight, drab breeches. About his fat neck
was a black stock, with just a suggestion of soiled linen showing above
it. His figure was corpulent and unwieldy.

The man saw a boy of perhaps ten, barefoot, and clothed in homespun
shirt and trousers. On his head was a ruinous hat much too large for
him, but which in some mysterious manner he contrived to keep from quite
engulfing his small features, which were swollen and tear-stained. In
his right hand he carried a bundle, while his left clutched the brown
barrel of a long rifle.

"You don't belong in these parts, do you?" asked the judge, when he had
completed his scrutiny.

"No, sir," answered the boy. He glanced off down the road, where lights
were visible among the trees. "What town is that?" he added.

"Pleasantville--which is a lie--but I am neither sufficiently drunk nor
sufficiently sober to cope with the possibilities your question offers.
It is a task one should approach only after extraordinary preparation,"
and the sometime major-general of militia grinned benevolently.

"It's a town, ain't it?" asked Hannibal doubtfully. He scarcely
understood this large, smiling gentleman who was so civilly given to
speech with him, yet strangely enough he was not afraid of him, and his
whole soul craved human companionship.

"It's got a name--but you'll excuse me, I'd much prefer not to tell you
how I regard it--you're too young to hear. But stop a bit--have you so
much as fifty cents about you?" and the judge's eyes narrowed to a slit
above their folds of puffy flesh. Hannibal, keeping his glance fixed
on the man's face, fell back a step. "I can't let you go if you are
penniless--I can't do that!" cried the judge, with sudden vehemence.
"You shall be my guest for the night. They're a pack of thieves at the
tavern," he lowered his voice. "I know 'em, for they've plucked me!" To
make sure of his prey, he rested a fat hand on the boy's shoulder
and drew him gently but firmly into the shanty. As they crossed the
threshold he kicked the door shut, then with flint and steel he made a
light, and presently a candle was sputtering in his hands. He fitted
it into the neck of a tall bottle, and as the light