hing that he was well rid of, and if the peddler
was found and not convicted he might come back and burn their barns. And
when old Billy Jones was shaking there before me, I kept asking him what
he was afraid of, and he said:

"'Will you promise not to tell?'

"I said I would. And he said:

"'It was me that killed Cyrus Graves. We were coming home together, and
we had both had a drop too much, and we had words about something, I
forget what. And which of us struck first I don't know, but I know I
struck him and he fell pitch-polling down the side of the road into the
gully and I went home and crawled into bed. And the next day they found
him, and I said I came home across lots, and there was a man that met me
and he said it was so and I was so far gone in liquor I never could have
raised my head again that night, once I'd laid down and begun to sleep
it off. But he never knew I did raise my head for I was not so well
started as common and I went out again about ten to fill up. And it was
then I met Cyrus Graves.'

"I told him there was but one thing for him to do. He must send for the
sheriff and give himself up. But he cried out at that and said:

"'Look at my poor legs. Do you think a man with such legs as mine has
got strength enough to be hung?'

"I told him he would not be hung. He was a very sick man, and there was
no court of law in the world so unmerciful as not to take that into
account. But he would not do it. He had not meant to kill Cyrus Graves,
he said, and he would not die a murderer and known for one. And that was
why he would not go to the Poor Farm. As he got sicker, he might be
delirious or talk in his sleep. Rave, that was the word he used. He
might rave. After he stopped speaking, I sat thinking it over, and he
watched my face. He spoke first, and he spoke as if he could hardly wait
to hear the answer and yet was obliged to hear it.

"'Ain't you goin' to say you'll come here an' take care of me?' he said.
'My time won't be long.'

"Then I could see my going round taking care of the sick had made him
turn to me. That was the way with all of them round here. They turned to
me. It was the only comfort I had. I told him I could not take care of
him there. It was no fit place. I thought a spell longer, and he watched
me. His eyes were full of fear. The little animals look like that when
they are trapped. Then I told him I would have him brought over to the
hut if he would come, and he jumped at