dent that I should have to fight a grim battle with him.

What would he do? That was the vital question with me. As the prudent
general endeavors to anticipate the purposes of the enemy, I tried to
measure the probable intentions of Tom Thornton. What would he do? Would
he have me arrested as a criminal for robbing my uncle's safe? I confess
that the cold sweat stood upon my brow as I thought of it; as I
considered what an awful thing it would be to be carried back to
Parkville by an officer, and sent to the common jail. But, perhaps, if
this were done, it would be the best thing that could possibly happen to
me.

If arrested and tried, I should have the privilege of the meanest
criminal to defend myself. I should call on Squire Hale to produce my
father's will. I should lay bare in a court of justice the whole of
Tom's and his father's infamous conduct. But Tom knew that I had taken
the will; that I had deprived him of his sheet anchor. With only half an
eye he could see what the consequence of arresting me must be. My uncle
would groan and tremble at the very idea of such an exposure. After
these reflections, I came to the conclusion that I should not be
arrested as a criminal. Tom Thornton would fight his battle with other
weapons than those of justice and the law.

Tom had shown by his acts that he did not scruple to take the law into
his own hands, and I was convinced that my future trials were to be
caused by individual persecution rather than public prosecution. Again
the question came up, What will he do? It was certain that he would
follow me, and it was almost as certain that he would find me. I had
hardly a doubt that he would take the night train from the west, and be
in Albany the next morning. Such a person as Tom Thornton must be a
selfish man, and I concluded that he would not trouble himself much more
about finding Kate. His own trials overshadowed those of the fair widow
of Cannondale. He would be after me rather than Kate.

While I was anxiously considering the case, the landlady called me to
supper. She poured out the tea, and asked more questions than I cared to
answer; but so far as I said anything, I told the truth. I did not sleep
many hours that night; I was too much disturbed by the perils of my
situation to slumber. I thought, and thought, and thought. Tom Thornton
would arrive in the morning. At the railroad station he would begin his
inquiries for me. The baggage-master, who had directed