“I may not do as good a job on you as you did with Bennett,” said the voice apologetically; “but I’ll fix you up some way. While you was tyin’ Bennett up I raided the whole durn neighborhood for clothesline. This’ll be one awful grouchy town on wash-day!” Beck’s scalp prickled with an agonizing memory of Bennett’s ghastly face, as he had seen it last; the hair began to rise. He stopped on the stairs rebelliously. “I wish you would yell once, or balk--or something,” said the voice hopefully. “It’d save me a heap o’ trouble--trussing you up. G’wan, now!” The gambler g’waned. Chapter IX The sky was washed clean; the sound of church bells floated across the sunny meadows; the winds were still, save as a light and loitering air wandered by, poignant with a spicy tang, the sweet alloy of earth. Listening to those peaceful bells, Mr. Drake and Mr. Jones lolled at ease in the modest hostelry favored by the latter gentleman, and looked out on a freshened and sparkling world. As the last echo died away Mr. Drake resumed the conversation: “I gotta hand it to you, Mr. Weisenheimer. That’s a great bean of yours! You’ve made your case. Uncle had money; it’s gone; somebody’s got it; _x_ is eager to give too much for my brand; _y_ offers an exorbitant price for my scalp; _z_ is willing to pay you to keep quiet. How long will it take two men to dig two graves if the age of the first man is twice that of the second one? And who should have the custody of the child? Perfectly simple!” “But you can’t explain it any other way.” “Hang it! I don’t want to explain it any other way. You’re right--but you can’t go ahead. Your wind-up is good; but can you put it over? How do you propose to go ahead about collecting? It reminds me of a little passage in Shakespeare that my chum sprung on the Frosh class in English. I remember it because Kitty, the prof, was so justly indignant: “_Deep and dangerous, As full of peril and adventurous spirit As to o’erwalk a current roaring loud On the unsteadfast footing of a spear; If he fall in--good-night!_” “It is widely believed,” replied Neighbor, “that you cannot catch a weasel asleep; but I think it can be done, with patience. Don’t be in such a hurry--be calm!” “I want you to know I can be as calm as anybody when there’s anything to be calm about,” retorted Ducky with some acerbity. “It isn’t so much the money--not but what I could use that to buy food with--but those fellows are not doing me right.” “There’s our one best chance,” said Neighbor, more seriously than was his wont. “They’re doing wrong. Doing right is as easy as sticking a needle in the eye of a camel; but to do wrong takes a steady, dead lift. Every tendency and every fact pulls against it like the force of gravity at four P. M. I’m not particularly bitter against my own dear little sins, but I do believe that, in the long run, the way of the transgressor is really hard.” There came a tap at the door; Mr. Jones was wanted at the phone.