The tacit partnership of honorable reparation bound by hand-clasp on Jerusalem had not the elements to make it endure in Pulaski Britt's domains, with Pulaski Britt to sound his old-time rallying call of greed and tyranny. That earlier partnership, sealed by the arms f Old King Spruce, had never been dissolved, and Barrett was once more becoming "Stumpage John," cold and hard and calculating. "Look here, Pulaski," he blurted out, in sudden confidence, "there's a little more to this than you understand just now. I'm in a devil of a position. I--I--" He hesitated, staring into the fire and waving his hands slowly in the steam that rose from his sodden garments. "I haven't done just right, I suppose, but there are reasons why, that a man like you will understand. I just left that Wade fellow up on the top of Jerusalem. We've had a talk. He didn't understand very well." "Did he offer to trade something for the sake of gettin' that daughter of yours that he's in love with?" demanded Britt, maliciously. "I don't know," confessed the other. "I'm under obligations to him, Pulaski. He cut me loose from a tree to-day in Pogey Notch. In another ten minutes the fire would have got me." "Great Jehosaphat!" exploded the host. "Tried to kill you! A timber grudge carried that far!" He stamped about the little camp. His face wrinkled with apprehension and fury. He had a sudden vivid mind-picture of his own reign of tyranny, and realized that if John Barrett had been attacked, Pulaski Britt had more reason to fear. "It's a call for a lynchin', John," he said, hoarsely. "And I've got a crew that will do it." "It was Lane that tied me--the fire-station warden," Barrett went on. "And Withee turned you over to him, knowin' he'd do it!" stormed the baron. "His men blabbed it that Lane had taken you. Withee, Wade--we'll clean out the whole coop of 'em!" But John Barrett did not seem to warm up to this plan of vengeance. He still kept his eyes on the fire. His shoulders were hunched forward with something of abjectness in their droop. "You haven't got some whiskey handy, have you, Pulaski?" he asked, plaintively. "I don't feel well. I've had an awful night and day." Britt brought the liquor from a cupboard, cursing soulfully and urging vengeance. But after Barrett drank from the pannikin he leaned his face to the blaze again and broke upon the Honorable Pulaski's vicious monologue. "I've told the wrong end first--but there are some things easier to say than others. It was Linus Lane who tied me to that tree and left me to die there, but"--Barrett rolled his head sideways and gave Britt a queer glance from his eye-corners--"did you ever see my daughter Elva, Pulaski?" Britt blinked as though trying to understand this sudden shifting of topic, and wagged slow nod of assent. "Have you ever seen that girl of the Skeet settlement--the one that doesn't belong to them?" Barrett half choked over the question.