“Waal, ’Lijah never thunk nuthin’ mo’, an’ Mink kep’ his eyes ter hisself the rest o’ the way. When they got ter Glaston the gyards sorter waited fur the t’other folks ter git out fust, an’ then they started. Waal, ’Lijah say the dep’ty he jumped off’n the platform fust, an’ tole Mink ter kem on. An’ the dep’ty—’Lijah say the dep’ty set a heap o’ store by Mink—he war a-tellin’ Mink ter look how many tracks an’ locomotives an’ sech thar war in the depot, an’ not noticin’ Mink much. An’ ’Lijah say he seen Mink dart ter one side; he ’lowed Mink war makin’ a bust ter git away. Naw, sir! Gwinnan hed stopped by the side o’ the kyar ter speak ter a man. ’Lijah say he felt like he war a-dreamin’ when he seen Mink lift up both his handcuffed hands an’ bring the irons down on the jedge’s head. ’Lijah say him an’ the dep’ty an’ the t’other gyard hed thar pistols out in a second. But they war feared ter shoot, fur the jedge, stiddier drappin’ on the groun’, whurled roun’ an’ grabbed the man ez hit him. He got Mink by the throat, an’ held on ter him same ez a painter or sech. He nearly strangled Mink ter death, though the jedge war fairly blinded with his own blood. Mink writhed an’ wriggled so they couldn’t tell one man from t’other. The gyards war feared ter shoot at Mink, ’kase they mought kill the jedge. They tore Mink loose at last. They ’lowed his face war black ez ef he hed been hung. He won’t tackle Gwinnan agin in a hurry. Ye ’lowed Gwinnan war a feeble infant, mother; he ain’t very feeble now. Though he did faint arterward, an’ war hauled up ter the tavern in a kerridge. They hed ter hev some perlice thar ter holp keep the crowd off Mink, takin’ him ter jail. Waal, ’Lijah say they dunno whether the jedge will live or no,—suthin’ the matter with his head. But even ef he do live, ’Lijah say we ain’t likely ter see Mink in these parts no mo’ fur a right smart while, ’kase he hearn thar ez assault with intent ter c’mit murder air from three ter twenty-one year in the pen’tiary. An’ I reckon enny jury would gin Mink twenty”—— “Yes, sir, he needs a good medjure!” exclaimed the negative Mr. Sayles, with unwonted hearty concurrence. “Mink will be an old man by the time he do git back,” computed Mrs. Sayles. “Now, Lethe,” argued Mrs. Jessup, “ain’t ye got sense enough ter see ez Mink ain’t nobody ter set sech store on, an’ ef ye like him it’s ’kase ye air a fool?” The girl sat as if stunned, looking into the fire with vague distended eyes. She lifted them once and gazed at Mrs. Jessup, as if she hardly understood. “Look-a-hyar, Lethe, what sorter face air that ye hev got onter ye?” cried Mrs. Sayles. “Ye better not set yer features that-a-way. I hev hearn folks call sech looks ‘the dead-face,’ an’ when ye wear the ‘dead-face’ it air a sign ye air boun’ fur the grave.” “Waal, that’s whar we all air boun’ fur,” moralized old man Sayles.