after all be complete. Yet
Rowlett pretended to ponder the proposition which he burned ardently to
accept.

"Why air ye willin' ter make thet compact with me?" he inquired
dubiously, and the other answered promptly:

"Because ter send ye ter sulter in ther penitenshery wouldn't pleasure
me ner content me ... no more then ter see ye unchurched fer
tale-bearin'. Ye've got ter _die_ under my own hands.... Ef ye makes
oath an' abides by hit ... ye needn't be afeared thet I won't keep mine,
too."

For a brief interval the standing man withheld his answer, but that was
only for the sake of appearances. Then he nodded his head.

"I gives ye my hand on hit. I sw'ars."

Something like a grunt of bitter laughter came from the bed.

"Thet hain't enough ... fotch me a Bible."

"I don't know whar hit's at."

"I reckon they've got one--in a godly dwellin'-house like this. Find
hit--an' speedily ... or I'll call out."

Rowlett turned and left the room, and presently he returned bearing a
cumbersome and unmistakable tome.

"Now kneel down," came the command from the bed, and the command was
reluctantly obeyed.

"Repeat these hyar words atter me ... 'I swa'rs, in ther sight an'
hearin' of God Almighty....'" and from there the words ran double, low
voiced from two throats, "'thet till sich time as Cal Maggard kin walk
abroad, full rekivered ... I won't make no effort ter harm ner
discomfort him ... no wise, guise ner fashion.... Ef I breaks this
pledge I prays God ter punish me ... with ruin an' death an' damnation
in hell hyaratter!"

"An' now," whispered Maggard, "kiss ther book."

As the weirdly sworn malefactor came slowly to his feet the instinct of
craft and perfidy brought him back to the part he must play.

"Now thet we onderstands one another," he said, slowly, "we're swore
enemies atter ye gits well. Meantime, I reckon we'd better go on
_seemin'_ plum friendly."

"Jist like a couple of blood-brothers," assented Maggard with an ironic
flash in his eyes, "an' now Blood-brother Bas, go over thar an' set
down."

Rowlett ground his teeth, but he laughed sardonically and walked in
leisurely fashion to the hearth.

There he sat with his feet outspread to the blaze, while he sought
solace from his pipe--and failed to find it.

Possibly stray shreds of delirium and vagary mingled themselves with
strands of forced clarity in Cal Maggard's thinking that night, for as
he lay there a totally unreasonable comfort st