tement,
Bradley Gaither spoke--

"Don't criminate yourself, Jack. I am willing to drop this matter." He
appeared to be greatly agitated.

"Drop what matter?" exclaimed young Carew in a passion. "I have a
matter with you, sir, that won't be dropped."

"Go your ways, then," said Bradley Gaither; "I've done my duty." With
that he mounted his horse, and Jack Carew was left in the hands of the
sheriff.

The machinery of the law was not as difficult to set in motion in those
days as it is now. There was no delay. Pinetuoky was greatly interested
in the trial, and during the two days of its continuance delegations of
Pinetuckians were present as spectators. Some of these were summoned to
testify to the good character of young Carew, and this they did with a
simplicity that was impressive; but neither their testimony nor the
efforts of the distinguished counsel for the defence, Colonel Peyton
Poindexter, had any effect. The facts and the tacit admissions of Jack
were against him. Colonel Poindexter's closing speech was long
remembered, and indeed is alluded to even now, as the most eloquent and
impressive ever delivered in the court-house in Rockville; but it
failed to convince the jury. A verdict in accordance with the facts and
testimony was brought in, and Jack Carew was sentenced to serve a term
in the penitentiary at Milledgeville.

The first to bring this information to Pinetucky was Bradley Gaither
himself. He stopped at Squire Inehly's for his daughter, and went in.

"What's the news?" asked Miss Jane.

"Bad, very bad news," said Bradley Gaither.

"Jack ain't hung, I reckon," said Miss Jane. "My mind tells me, day and
night, that the poor boy in innocent as the child that's unborn."

"Innocent or guilty," said Bradley Gaither, "he has been sent to the
penitentiary."

Miss Jane gave a quick glance at Rose, and was just in time to catch
her as she fell from her chair.

"Ah, poor child!" cried Miss Jane, "her heart is broke!"

"Rose!--Daughter!--Darling!" exclaimed Bradley Gaither, dropping on his
knees beside her. "Oh, what is this? What have I done? Speak to her,
Miss Inchly! What shall I do?" He was pale as death, and his features
worked convulsively.

"Do nothin', Mr. Gaither. You've done more 'n you can undo a'ready.
You've took and give that poor boy over for to be persecuted, Mr.
Gaither, and now the innocent suffers and the wicked goes scotch-free."

Bradley Gaither covered his face with his hands