can't rightly say _now_," the old man drawled; "but--but I kin tell
you where we-uns lef' him. 'T war a awful bis'ness, that crackin' off
Briscoe--that warn't in the plan at all. We-uns war after the revenuer.
What right had he ter bust our still an' break up our wu'm and pour our
mash an' singlings out on the ground? Ain't it our'n? Ain't the corn an'
apples an' peaches our'n? Didn't we grow 'em?--an' what right hev the
gover'ment ter say we kin eat 'em, but can't bile 'em--eh? They b'long
ter we-uns--an' gosh! the gover'ment can't hender! But we never meant no
harm ter Briscoe. Lawd! Lawd! that warn't in the plan at all. But the
child viewed it, an', by gosh! I b'lieve that leetle creetur could hev
told the whole tale ez straight as a string--same ez ef he war
twenty-five year old. That deedie of a baby-child talked
sense--horse-sense--he _did_, fur a fack!"

"Where--where----" Lillian was using every power of her being to restrain
the screams of wild excitement, to sustain the suspense.

"Where did you last see him?" asked Bayne. He had grown deadly white, and
the old man, lifting his face, gazed vaguely from one to the other. Their
intense but controlled excitement seemed subtly imparted to his nerves.
The details of the tragedy had become hackneyed in his own consciousness,
but their significance, their surfeit of horror, revived on witnessing
their effect on others.

"Look-a-hyar, you two an' this woman will stan' up fur me when I gin
myself up fur State's evidence, ef I put ye on the track fur findin'
Bubby? He's thar all right yit, I'll be bound--well an' thrivin, I
reckon. He hev got backbone, tough ez a pine knot."

"Yes, yes, indeed; we pledge ourselves to sustain you," cried Lillian.
Bayne was putting the glass of brandy into the grimy, shaking paw,
mindful of the old man's shattered composure.

"It be a mighty risk I be a-runnin'"--the old, seamed face was of a
deadly pallor and was beginning to glister with a cold sweat. "I reckon I
oughtn't ter tell nuthin' exceptin' ter the officers, but--but--I 'lowed
leetle Archie's mother would help me some again them bloodhounds o' the
law."

"I'll move heaven and earth to aid you!" cried Lillian.

"See here, I can _promise_ that you shall be held harmless, for I am the
prosecutor," Gladys struck suddenly into the conversation, pale but calm,
every fibre held to a rigorous self-control. "I am Mr. Briscoe's wife,
his widow. Now tell me, _where_ did you last see