whip me, 'n' come put nigh hittin' me.
'N' he cussed me some more 'n' pulled out another ten-dollar bill, 'n'
th'owed it at me, 'n' 'lowed that ef I'd go that night 'n' burn the
stable up with the hoss locked in it he'd call it squar. I didn't want
to do it, doc, I sw'ar I didn't, 'cause Major Dudley's been good to me,
but I's skeered not to. That Devil Marston jist looked at me with his
snake eyes 'n' 'lowed that if I failed 'im ag'in he'd come 'n' shoot me
daid. 'N' I went, nigh onto midnight, 'n' I got some straw out'n the
lof'--a hull big armful o' dry straw, 'n' piled it ag'in the door o' the
stable, 'n' sot fire to it. Then I run. I run till I got home, but I saw
the light in the sky, 'n' knowed the hoss wuz gone this time. But the
nex' day I heered o' some feller draggin' 'im out! Then I tuk sick, 'n'
I s'pose it's a jedgment on me fur bein' so wicked. But he _made_ me do
it! He _made_ me! 'Twarn't so much his money, but I's skeered uv 'im.
You don't know Devil Marston, doc. His name's fittin'. 'N' now I feel
better, doc; I sw'ar I do!"

For a moment Glenning sat silent.

"Yes, I know Devil Marston," he said at last, "and he is a bad man. And
I know the Dudleys, too, and I know the man who went in for the colt."

"Ye won't tell, doc, will ye?" asked Scribbens, in sudden alarm. "Ye
won't give me 'way?"

"I'll promise that no harm shall come to you because of the things that
you've told me. But you're a bad man, too, Dink Scribbens--a low down,
dastardly coward!"

The figure below shrank back under the stern, accusing voice.

"I know it! I know it! It's kep' me 'wake ever since I done it!"

He was almost whimpering now, and John realized the utter futility of a
sermon at this time. The arrival of Mrs. Scribbens at this juncture with
her corps of satellites put an end to further confidences. John arose.

"I've het the water!" announced Mrs. Scribbens, standing with a chunk of
lye soap in one hand and a battered and dented tin washpan in the other
from which steam was rising.

"Very well," said Glenning. "Get him clean. Give him one of these when
you have finished, another at midnight, and a third in the morning. Have
you a clock?"

His gaze swept the pitifully bare room and failed to reveal one.

"Humph!" sniffed Mrs. Scribbens. "The roosters crow, don't they? He'll
git his dose at midnight!"

"Keep the children out of doors as much as you can; make each of them
bathe every day and do the same yourself