“That thar man,” he said between his set teeth, and for all his voice was low it was distinct, even in the rumbling and noise of the train, so charged it was with the emphasis of intention, the definiteness of a cherished revenge,—“d’ye know what he hev done ter me? He put Pete Rood on the jury, though he knowed Pete hated me, an’ why. He put the jury in jail, ’kase they war fools, an’ ’lowed they hed a harnt on the panel, an’ bein’ jailed conflusticated ’em so they couldn’t find a verdict. _He_ knows an’ _they_ know Tad’s alive, but I hev got ter bide in jail fower month longer an’ resk the Pen’tiary agin, account o’ a drownded boy ez hev run away. An’ when my friends wanted ter take me out’n jail,—God A’mighty! I didn’t know I hed sech friends,—he goes out’n his way ter tell the sher’ff how ter flustrate ’em. An’ I war gagged an’ ironed, an’ toted out’n the back door, an’ kep’ at the sher’ff’s house, an’ am tuk off on the train. ’Twarn’t his business. Ye know thar warn’t ez much ez that done whenst the lynchers kem fur Tim Jenkins,—_not ter save the man’s life_.” “Waal, he hed ter be hung some time, ennyhow,” said the deputy indisputably. “What did this hyar Jedge Gwinnan do all this hyar fur?” continued Mink. “Waal, Mink, he war obleeged ter, by his office. Ye know I don’t hold no grudge ter ye, yit I’m ’bleeged ter iron ye an’ gyard ye. I couldn’t set no mo’ store by ye ef ye war my own blood relation,” said the deputy. “Naw, sir! naw!” exclaimed Mink. “This hyar man have tuk a notion ter Lethe Sayles,—I seen it; an’ he ’lows I ain’t good enough fur her, an’ he be doin’ sech ez he kin agin me on account o’ her.” The deputy sheriff broke into a horse-laugh. The others laughed, too, more moderately. “Ye air teched in the head, Mink,” one of them remarked. “Mebbe so,” Mink responded quietly enough, but with a glancing gleam in his dark eyes. “But I’ll remember what he hev done ter me. An’ I’ll git even with him fur it. By the Lord, I’ll git even with him fur it. An’ ye shell see the day.” He leaned back against the window, with his eyes bright, his lips curving, tossing his tangled hair with a quick, excited gesture, as if he saw his revenge an accomplished fact. Somehow his look impressed the guards. “Naw, ye won’t,” said one of them. “Ye won’t do nuthin’ like it. Ye air goin’ ter jail _fower_ month, an’ arter that ter the Pen’tiary _five_ year, an’ time ye git out’n thar ye’ll be so powerful pleased ter be foot-loose ye’ll mind yer manners the rest o’ yer days, an’ ye will hev clean furgot Jedge Gwinnan.” He evidently thought some harshness salutary. Mink made no reply, and they presently fell to talking together of their town affairs and gossip, excluding him from the conversation, in which, in truth, he desired to take no share. XVI.