at he knows nothing about what is held be competent testimony,- nothing of the ict laws of relevancy and irrelevancy. He erefore goes to work to find out the truth in y way that seems good to him, without being balked by that vast network of regulations hich are sure to embarrass the best endeavs of a more learned court. Markham was Torn immediately after the doctor had fined. It was his business to identify Tom's stol. I fancy a lawyer might have insisted at no foundation had been laid for this testiony; but to the coroner it seemed the most derly way, immediately after proving that ockwood had been killed, to show the eapon with which he might have been lled. Markham swore to finding this pistol Tom's room; and the ocular proof of the istence of such a weapon, in juxtaposition th the ghastly evidence before them of ockwood's violent death, went far to estabh Tom's guilt in the minds of the people. hen other witnesses swore to Tom's presence i the camp-ground; and two young men om Moscow had heard him threaten, some eeks before, that he would shoot George ockwood. It was just when the evidence of these two as finished that the people on the threshold the south door of the barn began to sway and fro in a sort of premonitory waveotion, for outside of the door Sheriff Pluntt, having just arrived from Moscow with om Grayson, was battling with the conensed crowd in an endeavor to reach the resence of the coroner. "You can't git through, Sher'f," said one an. "This crowd's so thick you could bore nauger into it." But the sheriff's progress was aided by the terest of the people in Tom. They could not resist turning about to look at him, and very movement displaced some human moleules; so that Plunkett, aided by the respect hown to him as an officer, was able to push little farther in at every budge. But the eople were not content with looking at lodged like overhanging angels in the dizzy collar beams, fast by the barn-swallows' nests. Such excited crowds are choruses who wait for some one to give them the key; the pitch of the first resolute voice determines the drift of feeling. If somebody had called out at this moment for fair play, the solvent feeling of the crowd might have crystallized about this one. But indignation got tongue first. 66 Hang him!" The words came from the corner of the threshing-floor farthest from the coroner, and in an instant the tide of feeling ran swiftly to that side. Tom recognized the harsh voice, and realized his danger in perceiving that the resentful Jake Hogan was leading those who sought to lynch him. When the sheriff, with Grayson, had penetrated to the neighborhood of the coroner, the inquest was continued by calling David Sovine. This young man, with stylish trousers strapped down to patent-leather shoes, came forward chewing tobacco and affecting a self-confident swagger. He took the oath nonchalantly. "Tell us what you know of the murder of George Lockwood," said the coroner. "Well, me an' George had been together, an' we parted. He was goin' to-wards his horse an' me to-wards the camp-meetin'. I was about twenty foot, or maybe twenty-five foot, away from 'im when along come Tom Grayson an' says, says he, ' I 'm boun' to git even with you wunst fer all.' I looked aroun', an' Tom was aimin' his pistol. George Lockwood says, says he, 'Don't shoot me, Tom'; but Tom he up an' fired, an' George jist keeled over like, an' never said another word. Tom run off as fast as his legs could carry him. I run up to George, an' he was layin' there dead 's a door-nail. Then the crowd come a-runnin', an' that 's about all I know about it." "D' you remember the pistol ? " "Yes." "Was it like this?" "Yes; an ole-fashioned big bore single-barrel like that, I should say." "That'll do. You can stand aside," said the coroner. 66 Hang him!" cried Jake Hogan; and there were other cries that showed how swiftly and terribly the current was setting in the direc tion indicated by Jake. Tom Grayson was sworn. "Now," said the coroner, "you don't have to criminate yourself. If you cannot answer any question asked of you without criminating you, you can decline to give an answer." For how many ages have Anglo-Saxons made their criminal law ridiculous by this rule! "Now," the coroner went on, "tell us just ony of unimportant witnesses, and he looked the coroner. He did n't like to bear the sponsibility of having a prisoner taken from is hands; still more he disliked to offend so any voters. "Settle it with Markham and the coroner," e said, sneaking out of the decision he could pt bring himself to make. "Mr. Markham," whispered Hiram, "the heriff wants you and me to get Tom off. 'll get the horses ready, and you and Tom e to come out through the cow-stable. peak to the coroner about it, and don't let e crowd see it. If we don't get him away efore this thing breaks up he 'll never get to wn alive." "All right," said Markham. "I'll be in the w-stable with Tom when you 're ready." Jake Hogan had already gone out to musr his men, and Hiram was very impatient the long time it took him to work his way utward. He was a little annoyed when agill, getting down from the plow-beam, opped him to whisper: "I say, you 're Tom's friend. Now what an I do for the bah-y? I s'pose he 's guilty, ut I don't want to see such a bowld gintleman she is lynched by such a set of howlin' Jackguards as these." he coroner. "Go over there and stand in front of Tom, > that the people won't see him and Markam when they get down into the cow-stable." Having whispered this between his teeth, fason painfully worked his way out of the oor, while Magill pushed forward towards For Magill the people made ray as best they could, supposing that the lerk was one of the functionaries without hom the performance could not proceed. The coroner had acceded to Markham's propsition and was contriving to protract the ession. Magill called Sheriff Plunkett to him nd made that worthy stand in unimportant conversation with him, so that they two covred from all observers first Markham's decent and then Tom's. The deputy sheriff nd then his prisoner had to climb over a hayack and thence down to the ground. The cow-stable was beneath that end of the barn which jutted over a steep hill-side descending to brook. As nothing was to be seen from this stable, there was nobody in it but a few boys. When Mason came to say that he was ready, Markham passed out with his prisoner and down the hill-side to the bed of the brook, where Mason had brought the deputy's horse and old Blaze. Tom had been brought to the inquest in a wagon; but as it was necessary to avoid the main road, Mason had unharnessed Blaze for Tom to ride. As the hoofs of the horses clattered down over the stones in the VOL. XXXV.-114-115. bed of the stream, Tom felt as a man might who had but just eluded the coils of a boaconstrictor. In a little while the two were galloping over the open prairie towards Moscow by by-roads and short cuts. The prisoner's absence was observed; but, as the sheriff remained, it was not at first suspected that he had got entirely away. People looked for him and inquired of one another where “ they had put him." At length the testimony was all in, and the case was given to the jury. These " good men and true," as the old English law supposes them to be, retired for consultation; that is, they changed places with the coroner and stood with their faces towards the wall in the corner and their backs towards the crowd, which now buzzed like a nest of indignant bumble-bees. After a few minutes, the jury turned and their foreman read the verdict: "We find that George Lockwood came to his death by being shot with buckshot, fired from a pistol by Thomas Grayson, Junior, and we recommend that the said Thomas Grayson be committed to answer to the charge of murder." When this formal condemnation had been read, the passions of the crowd broke over all bounds, and the words of the coroner, formally ordering the commitment of the prisoner, were not heard. Cries of "Hang him! Hang him to the first tree!" mingled with curses, broke forth. Men swung themselves down from the high beams and there was a rush from the mows, while the women among the wheat-sheaves drew back in terror as they might have done in a rising hurricane. The crowd surged hither and thither about the outside of the barn, and surrounded the sheriff and the coroner, demanding the prisoner. It was more than five minutes after the verdict was in before it was believed that Tom had been taken away, and then the mob were bewildered by the certainty that nobody had seen him taken down the Moscow road. Foiled in their purpose, they fell away, and the tide of passion began to ebb. But the more determined rallied about Hogan, and agreed to meet him at the Broad Run grocery after dark, to make arrangements for a trip to the county-seat during the night. XVII. A COUNCIL OF WAR. As soon as Zeke had eaten the frugal supper of mush and milk that Mrs. Britton set out for him, he sought the dilapidated little Broad Run grocery. The building was of logs, and had a pair of deer's antlers over the door for a sign that it was in one sense a public house. The low door, with its threshold on the level of the ground, the one square, dingy little window, and the shabby stick chimney, in the chinks of which the clay plaster was cleaving, gave the place a run-down expression. In looking at the building, one got a notion that it would like to slink away if it could. Zeke found nobody in but the proprietor, a boozyheaded looking man, with his hands usually in his trousers' pockets, and his swollen eyelids never wide open. The stock of groceries was small; two barrels of corn-whisky and one of molasses were the dominant elements; a quart cup and some glasses stood on a dirty unpainted poplar counter, beside a pair of scales. The whole interior had a harmonious air of sloth, stupidity, and malpropriety; and its compound odors were as characteristic as indescribable. Zeke waited about awhile, wondering that no one should have come to the rendezvous. the grocery. So every morning the clumsy door was lifted aside; at bed-time it was with difficulty partly hoisted and partly shoved back into its place. If the night was very warm, the ceremony of closing the door was omitted. Locks were not necessary in a neighborhood like Broad Run, where honesty was hardly a virtue, there being so little temptation to theft. Jake's house contained a rude home-made bedstead of poles, and two or three stools of the householder's own manufacture. Hogan "'lowed" some day to make one or two more stools and a table. At present, he and his wife patiently ate from skillet and pot, until the table should be made. It was something to have conceived the notion of a table, and with that Jake rested. There was a large fire-place built of sticks and clay; it had stones for andirons and was further furnished with a pot, not to mention a skillet, which stood on "Where 's Jake Hogan?" he inquired of two legs and a stone and had lost its handle. the "grocery keeper." "I dunno." Zeke had anticipated this answer. The man never did know anything but the price of his liquors. It was the safest way for one who kept such a resort and heard so many confidences, and it was a way of answering questions that required the least exertion. Jake always 'lowed he 'd get a new skillet; but he postponed it until he should have more money than was absolutely needful to buy indispensable clothes and whisky with. There was also a hoe, on which Mrs. Jake baked cold water hoe-cakes when she had company to supper. For shovel, a rived clapboard had been whittled into a handle at one end. Some previous owner had been rich enough and ex "But I wuz to meet him here." "Oh, you wuz!" Then, after awhile, he travagant enough to have the four-light win asked, "Been over to his house?" "No." dow glazed, but all the panes were now broken. An old hat, too shabby even for Jake to wear, filled the place of one of the squares of glass; the rest of the sash was left open for light and ventilation. The grocery keeper did not say any more, but Zeke conjectured that the meeting had adjourned to Jake Hogan's cabin for greater privacy. Zeke made his way over there with Secure as Jake and his party felt from legal much stumbling, for the night was rather a interference, they had chosen to retire to this dark one in the woods. The cabin which was cabin instead of remaining at the grocery. now owned and occupied by Hogan was, like This secrecy was rather an involuntary tribute most of the Broad Run dwellings, built of of respect for the law than an act of caution. round logs with the bark on; that is to say, Mrs. Hogah, whose household duties were of the bark had been left on when the house was the lightest, had been sent away, and into Jake's built, but years of rain and sun had peeled cabin a party of twenty had crowded, so far as off about half of it, and left the house spotted it was possible for them to get in. Some stood and ragged. There was but one room, and outside of the door, and Zeke had to find a one might enter this without ceremony, for the place at the broken window in order to hear door stood wide open, though not on account what was going on. This was a muster of the of hospitality. This door was made of heavy leaders and the center of the party; one of puncheons and had originally hung on wooden the "boys" had been sent to the camp-ground hinges, but the uppermost hinge had come to seek recruits who were not to be trusted in off six months before, and though Jake had this council of war. The recruits were noti ""lowed to fix it" nearly every day since, it fied to assemble at the cross-roads, "'twix' had not been repaired, for Hogan was a pub- midnight un moon-up." lic-spirited citizen, deeply interested in politics, and in reformatory movements like the it was not to be expected that such a man could, in the nature of things, spare time to The first that Zeke made out was that Jake was relieving his mind in a little speech: "D' yeh know they've gone un set up the k-yards onto us, boys ? Soon's Uncle Lazar h-yer tole me 't Bob McCord ud come opin questions were always likely to be mooted at ur nother besides b'ars. Bob's purty tol'able e, but he a'n't the on'y cute feller in the '. Me 'n' Uncle Lazar jes laid fer 'im. tch Jake Hogan asleep, won' cheh! Uncle tzar, when he seen Bob a-comin' down the weth a b'ar on 'is shoulder, he jes soaks weth a fresh jug uv whisky, un then 'im S'manthy worms it out 'v'im what he za-loafin' over yer fer un not at the eenes'. He would n' noways tell Uncle Lazar, he's kind-uh fond uv S'manthy, un she 's art, S'manthy is. She jes kind-uh saf-sawred 'im un coaxed 'im up, tell he could n' p it in no longer, bein' a leetle meller, un tole 'er 't 'e wuz a-spyin' aroun' so 's to let shurruff know 'f we'd got wind uv 'is plans, 't 'e expected to have the larf on Jake torry. But Uncle Lazar 'n' me 'ave got that ed up, un Bob wuz n't more 'n out-uh sight re Uncle Lazar wuz a trit-trottin' 'n 'is way, know, fer Jake Hogan's. Bob's a-comin' er to-morry to fetch back Uncle Lazar's run have the larf onto us. But he took one too many pulls at Lazar's jug." Here ke paused to vent a laugh of self-complaicy and exultation. 'Thunder 'n' light'in', Jake," called out one the party who stood outside of the door, yond the light of the flickering blaze on the arth, "what did Bob tell S'manthy? Why n' choo tell us, anyways? You're a long e a-gittin' to the p'int. The business afore s yer meetin' is to hang Tom Grayson to a ort meter toon. Now you tell me, what 's acle Lazar's whisky-jug got to do weth that? hat's the needcessity uv so much jaw?" "Don' choo fret the cattle now," said Jake. You want to know what Bob tole S'manthy? 'y,ut the shurruff was a-sendin' Tom Grayn f'om the eenques' over to Perrysburg jail git him out-uh your way. I 'low that's got mpin' to do weth the business afore the eetin', hain't it? Maybe he wuz a-foolin' S'manthy," said e interlocutor, in a voice a little subdued. "Maybe he wuz n't," retorted Jake. "He wuz drunk ez a fool," piped up Uncle azar in a quivering treble. "He mus' 'a' tuck host a quart out-uh my jug, un he could n' an' straight w'en 'e went away. He tuck eer never to say Perrysburg to me, but he lked about shootin' you-all down at MosOw, jes zif shootin'-irons wuz a-goin' to skeer ch a devilish passel uv fellers ez you-all. I ould n' git nuthin' more out 'v 'im. But I seed l the time 't they wuz sumpin' kinday kep' , like. He on'y let out to S'manthy arter I'd one outay doors, un when he wuz thes chock ill un one over. Un he tied S'manthy up so rful tight about it, she kinday hated to tell e, un I had to thes tell 'er 't she mus'." "Jes y' all look at the case," said Jake, with a clumsy oratorical gesture. "Tom's uncle 's one uv them ar rich men what al'ays gits the'r own way, somehow ur nuther. That's what we 're up fer.. Ef we don't settle this yer business by a short cut acrost the woods, they 'll be a pack uv lawyers a-provin' that black's white, un that killin' hain't no murder no-ways, un Tom 'll git off 'cause he's got kin what kin pay fer the law, un buy up the jury liker 'n not. A pore man don' stan' no kind uv a chance in this yer dodrotted country. Down in North Kerliny, whar I come from, 't wuz diff'rent. Now I say sass fer the goose is—" "Aw, well, what 's sass got to do weth the question, Jake? We're all in favor uv the pore man, cause that 's us," said his opponent, from outside the door. Well," retorted Jake, "what would ole Tom do for young Tom 't this time? Ainh? Jes you screw up yer thinkin' machine, ef you've got ary one, un tell me that. Wouldn' he jes nat'rally git the shurruff to put out to Perrysburg weth 'im, un then git a change uv venoo, un then buy up a jury un a passel uv dodrotted lawyers un git 'im off; ur else hire some feller to break open the jail un sen' the young scamp to t' other side uv the Mississip'? It stan's to nater 't Tom Grayson 's in Perrysburg jail to-night." "Un it stan's to nater," said one of the company, "that Broad Run 's a-goin' to make a frien'ly visit to the nex' county to-night. Un it stan's to nater we 're goin' to settle Hank Plunkett's hash at the next 'lection fer shurruff.” "Now yer a-talkin' sense," cried another of the crowd. As soon as it was clear that the meeting was in favor of going to Perrysburg, the gathering began to break up, some of the men feeling by this time a strong gravitation towards the grocery. Zeke went to Jake Hogan and explained that he "mus' be a-goin'." "You know," he added, "I 've ruther got to steal my hoss. The ole man Britton mout lemme have one of the ole woman 'd let him. But I know she jest nat'rally won't. So I'd better go back un git to bed, then when the folks is asleep I 'll crawl out." XVIII. ZEKE. TWO THINGS lay heavy on Zeke Tucker's mind as he hastened towards Britton's. For the life of him he could not tell whether Perrysburg was the destination to which Bob wished to send Jake, or whether Jake might not be right in supposing that Bob had incautiously betrayed his own secret. But this was |