dollars an' a
new rifle; an' help you git squar', too."

"Where'll I find this heah railroad feller?" Tusk was growing excited.

"He's at the Cunnel's; I done told you that!"

"An' I done told you I dassant go there!"

"Then ketch him out somewhere."

Tusk thought a moment, and hopefully exclaimed:

"I kin ketch 'im at the schoolhouse when he leaves the money!"

Tom looked at his friend in pitying disgust.

"You blamed fool, how's he comin' to the schoolhouse less'n you tell
'im!"

The simple-minded giant was greatly perplexed at this. He drew out his
bottle and took another drink, then mechanically passed it to Tom.

"Well," this schemer said, drawing the back of his hand across his
mouth, "if you want the gun, you'll have to make it. Belly-achin' around
this a-way won't bring you nothin'. Let me know tomorrer night what you
kin do, 'cause there's plenty others'll jump at the chance." With that
he turned and went back to the house, while Tusk, dazed and thinking
hard, walked slowly and slouchily down the pike.

Chance succeeded where the ingenuity of Tusk might have failed. He
reached a dip in the road where a small stream crossed, and stopped to
drink. On his hands and knees, and with the water dripping from his
mouth and chin, he suddenly raised his head to listen, then scurried
into the bushes to watch, as he recognized the sound of a galloping
horse.

Brent, coming from town, felt his mount shy and saw Potter looking out
at him. He did not know, of course, the part Tusk had played in the
schoolhouse drama, or of the fire, or, indeed, anything about him except
that he owned a piece of land which Dulany, Buckville's legal hope, was
trying to buy for the railroad, and that someone else had said his
strength was as great as his intellect was lacking. Brent reined up.

"Hello, Potter! What are you doing in there?"

"Hello yohse'f," Tusk emerged. "Hold up a minute!"

"Well?" Brent asked.

There was a pause, and Brent asked again: "Well?"

"Tom says as how you kin git that hund'ed for buhnin' down my cabin!"

"I'll get a monkey-wrench, my friend; you rattle," Brent chuckled. "But
you get out of my way! I'm going!"

Tusk regarded him in sullen silence. His face was black with passion and
Brent saw the necessity of more affable tactics.

"What's on your mind?" he asked. "Tell me so I can understand!"

"Nothin' ain't on my mind," Potter answered, with more truth than he
realized. "Tom says you owe