The two men glared at each other, but Pole seemed to get the best of that sort of combat, for the officer only growled. “You can insult a man when you are under arrest,” he said, “beca'se you know I am under bond to keep the peace. But I'm not afeerd of you.” “They tell me you are afeerd o' sperits, though,” retorted the prisoner. “They tell me a little nigger boy that was shot when a passle o' skunks went to whip his daddy fer vagrancy stands at the foot o' yore bed ever' night. Oh, I know what I'm a-talkin' about!” “Yes, you know a lots,” said the man, sullenly, as his eyes fell. To avoid encouraging the disputants further, Alan walked suddenly away. The marshal took willing advantage of the opportunity and followed him. “I could make a case agin you,” he said, catching up, “but I know you didn't mean to violate the ordinance.” “No, of course I didn't,” said Alan; “but I want to know if that fellow could be released if I paid his fine.” “You are not fool enough to do it, are you?” “That's what I am.” “Have you got the money in yore pocket?” The officer was laughing, as if at a good joke. “I have.” “Well”--the marshal laughed again as he swung his short club round by a string that fastened it to his wrist--“well, you come with me, an' I 'll show you a man that wants thirty dollars wuss than any man I know of. I don't believe Bill Barrett has slept a wink sence this thing happened. He 'll be tickled to death to git off so easy. The town has devilled the life out of him. He don't go by whar Pole's at work--I mean, whar he ain't at work--fer Pole yells at 'im whenever he sees 'im.” That night when Alan reached home he sent a servant over to tell Mrs. Baker that Pole was all right and that he'd be home soon. He had eaten his supper and had gone up-stairs to go to bed when he heard his name called outside. Going to a window and looking out, he recognized Pole Baker standing at the gate in the clear moonlight. “Alan,” he said, softly, “come down heer a minute. I want to see you.” Alan went down and joined him. For a moment Pole stood leaning against the fence, his eyes hidden by his broad-brimmed slouch hat. “Did you want to see me, Pole?” Alan asked. “Yes, I did,” the fellow swallowed. He made a motion as if to reach out his hand, but refrained. Then he looked straight into Alan's face.