A large, thick-set man, with a mechanical smile that was an overt act of false pretense, was lounging in the bar-room. Jeff dimly remembered to have seen him at the last county election, distributing tickets at the polls. This gave Jeff a slight prejudice against him, but a greater presentiment of some vague evil in the air caused him to motion the stranger to an empty room in the angle of the house behind the barroom, which was too near the hall through which Miss Mayfield must presently pass. It was an infelicitous act of precaution, for at that very moment Miss Mayfield slowly passed beneath its open window, and seeing her chair in the sunny angle, dropped into it for rest and possibly meditation. Consequently she overheard every word of the following colloquy. The Stranger's voice: “Well, now, seein' ez I've been waitin' for ye over an hour, off and on, and ez my bizness with ye is two words, it strikes me yer puttin' on a little too much style in this yer interview, Mr. Jefferson Briggs.” Jeff's voice (a little husky with restraint): “What is yer business?” The stranger's voice (lazily): “It's an attachment on this yer property for principal, interest, and costs--one hundred and twelve dollars and' seventy-five cents, at the suit of Cyrus Parker.” Jeff's voice (in quick surprise): “Parker? Why, I saw him only yesterday, and he agreed to wait a spell longer.” The Stranger's voice: “Mebbee he did! Mebbee he heard afterwards suthin' about the goin's on up yar. Mebbee he heard suthin' o' property bein' converted into ready cash--sich property ez horses, guns, and sich! Mebbee he heard o' gay and festive doin's--chickin every day, fresh eggs, butcher's meat, port wine, and sich! Mebbee he allowed that his chances o' gettin' his own honest grub outer his debt was lookin' mighty slim! Mebbee” (louder) “he thought he'd ask the man who bought yer horse, and the man you pawned your gun to, what was goin' on! Mebbee he thought he'd like to get a holt a suthin' himself, even if it was only some of that yar chickin and port wine!” Jeff's voice (earnestly and hastily): “They're not for me. I have a family boarding here, with a sick daughter. You don't think--” The Stranger's voice (lazily): “I reckon! I seed you and her pre-ambulating down the hill, lockin' arms. A good deal o' style, Jeff--fancy! expensive! How does Aunt Sally take it?” A slight shaking of the floor and window--a dead silence. The Stranger's voice (very faintly): “For God's sake, let me up!” Jeff's voice (very distinctly): “Another word! raise your voice above a whisper, and by the living G--” Silence. The Stranger's voice (gasping): “I--I--promise!” Jeff's voice (low and desperate): “Get up out of that! Sit down thar! Now hear me! I'm not resisting your process. If you had all h-ll as witnesses you daren't say that. I've shut up your foul jaw, and kept it from poisoning the air, and thar's no law in Californy agin it! Now listen. What! You will, will you?”