’Zeki’l clenched his hands, but what could he say in self-defense? He made a clear, straight-forward statement of all he knew about Miller, earnestly denying all knowledge of the robbery, but he felt the slight impression it made on their doubting minds. They did not openly accuse him, but they asked many questions, they exchanged knowing glances, and when they went away he felt that he had been tried and condemned. The sheriff had gone in pursuit of Miller, and all day groups of men sat or stood about the store whittling sticks, chewing tobacco, and talking. It was a most enjoyable day to them. It afforded excitement, and gave an opportunity to air opinions—to bring forth old prejudices. There was almost universal condemnation of ’Zeki’l. He had entertained the thief, had given him all the information necessary, and the more bitter ones wagged their heads and said that no doubt he had shared in the spoils. Even Mr. Davy Tanner looked sad and doubtful, though he defended the unfortunate man. "We’ve no right ever to accuse a person without evidence o’ guilt. We don’t know even that this other man had anything to do with it—though circumstances do all p’int that way—let alone ’Zeki’l Morgan. It’s best to hold our peace till we find out the truth." "But it looks mighty suspicious ag’in’ ’Zeki’l." "Because he’s been in the penitentiary, an’ we think he’s got a bad name by it." "Well, ain’t that enough to set honest men ag’in’ him?" "Yes; but it ain’t best to always judge a man by his misdeeds in the past, but rather by his good deeds in the present, an’ what they promise for the future." "Why not, when it’s accordin’ to scriptur’?" So the talk went on, while ’Zeki’l sat by his fireless hearth or walked aimlessly up and down the yard. At dusk his brother called, looking almost as haggard as he did. "It’s a bad thing, ’Zeki’l." "Yes," said ’Zeki’l, listlessly. "They are fools to think you had anything to do with it, plumb fools." "It’s natural they should, ’Lijy." "I can’t stand it, ’Zeki’l! Lord! I can’t stand it!" He fell into a chair and covered his face with his hands. "Chut, man! what does it matter?" said ’Zeki’l, bracing himself up and forcing a smile. "Don’t let ’Lizabeth believe it, that’s all I ask." "She’ll never believe it." "It’s all right, then; I’ll not care what the rest o’ the world thinks." "But I do," cried ’Lijy, starting up, "an’ I’ll put an end to it by—" "You’ll not do anything rash, ’Lijy," said ’Zeki’l, firmly, quietly, and laid his hand on the other’s shoulder. "Recollect your family." He looked slight and insignificant by the side of his brother, but his face had a strength and calmness which seemed to give it a power the other lacked. ’Lijy groaned, and turned tremblingly away.