"Oh, I reckon not," replied Mr. Sanders cheerfully. "But I've got a mighty good reason for axin' you about it. Come in your office, Gus, an' I'll tell you all I know, an' it won't take me two minnits." They went in and closed the door, and remained in consultation for some time. While they were thus engaged, Silas Tomlin came to the door, tried the bolt, and finding that it would not yield, walked restlessly up and down, preyed upon by many strange and conflicting emotions. He had evidently gone through much mental suffering. His face was drawn and haggard, and his clothes were shabbier than ever. He took no account of time, but walked up and down, waiting for Mr. Tidwell to come out, and as he walked he was the victim both of his fears and his affections. One moment, he heartily wished that he might never see his son again; the next he would have given everything he possessed to have the boy back, and hear once more the familiar, "Hello, father!" After awhile, Mr. Sanders and Mr. Tidwell came forth from the lawyer's office. They appeared to be in fine humour, for both were laughing, as though some side-splitting joke had just passed between them. "There's no doubt about it, Mr. Sanders," Lawyer Tidwell was saying, "you ought to be a major-general!" "I declare, Tidwell!" exclaimed Silas, with something like indignation, "I don't see how you can go around happy and laughing under the circumstances. You do like you could fetch your son back with a laugh. I wish I could fetch Paul back that way." "Well, he'd stay whar he is, Silas," said Mr. Sanders, with a benevolent smile, "ef his comin' back had to be brung about by any hilarity from you. Why, you ain't laughed but once sence you was a baby, an' when you heard the sound of it you set up a howl that's lasted ever sence." "If you think, Silas, that crying will bring the boys back," said Mr. Tidwell, "I'll join you in a crying-match, and stand here and boohoo with you just as long as you want to." "I just called by to see if you had heard any news," remarked Silas, taking no offence at the sarcastic utterances of the two men. "I am just obliged to get some news. I am on pins: I can't sleep at night; and my appetite is gone." Mr. Sanders looked at the man's haggard face, and immediately became serious and sympathetic. "Well, I tell you, Silas, you needn't worry another minnit. The only one amongst 'em that's in real trouble is Gabriel Tolliver. I've looked into the case from A to Izzard, an' that's the way it stan's." "That is perfectly true," assented Mr. Tidwell. "We can account for the movements of all the boys on the night of the killing except those of Tolliver; and he is in considerable danger. By the way, Silas, you said some time ago--oh, ever so long ago--that you would bring me a copy of _Blackwood's Magazine_. You remember there was a story in it you wanted me to read."