Watson don't pay the money?" asked the old man, anxiously.

"I'll pay it all just as I agreed to do. Now go to bed again, Squire
Fairfield, or your wife will be out looking for you."

"But I want to know sunthin more about this business."

"You mustn't know any more than you do. I didn't mean you should know
anything about it. I never told you anything. When you get the money,
you hold on to it till I come. I don't know as it's quite safe for me
to come here again, even in the night. I guess we'll fix it some other
way."

Dock did "fix it some other way"--it is of no consequence how.

"After I get this money, and get all ready to start, I'm going to
settle up matters with Levi and that nigger before I go. I expect I
shall kill that nigger if I ever see him again."

"Shall you? Then now's your time!" yelled Mr. C. Augustus Ebenier, as
he sprang from his covert, and rushed upon his enemy.

Dock Vincent was startled, as a braver man than he might have been
under such circumstances; but the steward did not permit him to recover
his self-possession. With an oak stick he carried in his hand, he dealt
a heavy blow upon the head of the villain. But his cranium seemed to be
made of more solid material than his African assailant's, for he
attempted to rise, when the steward repeated the stroke so effectually
that he lay still on the ground.

"Don't! Don't!" pleaded Mr. Fairfield, terrified by the tragic event.
"Don't tech him agin. Let him be."

But Dock was not deprived of his consciousness even by the severe blows
he had received, and again he attempted to rise.

"Lay still! If you don't there'll be a dead man not far from here,"
said the steward, as he took his revolver from his pocket.

Dock saw it, and dared not move.

"Don't tech him no more. Let him go now."

"Not if I know it! Allow me to insinuate, in the most direct manner
possible, that this man is my prisoner; and if he don't spend the rest
of his days in the state prison, it will be an outrage upon humanity,"
added the steward.

"Don't tech him no more. Let him go. I'll give you twenty-five cents if
you will," whined the miser, who had to open his heart very wide to
make this liberal offer.

"He is going to jail, if there is such an institution in these parts,"
replied Augustus.

"I'll give you fifty cents if you'll let him go," pleaded Mr.
Fairfield.

"If you would give me fifty thousand dollars, I wouldn't let him go,"
replied the steward. "