“Then I shall have to go on. I’m much obliged----” “Hold on, stranger! What’s yer business with Hank Low?” “I’ll tell that to Low.” “Then you can tell it to me.” “Why, are you----” “Yes, I am. My name’s Hank Low.” Nick had guessed as much. He held out his hand in the darkness and grasped that of the man who had saved his life. Low returned the grasp rather feebly. “Mr. Low,” said Nick, “I am more obliged to you than ever.” “What do you want of me?” demanded Low, in a surly tone. “I want to talk to you about the land you sold some months ago.” “Do you belong to the company that bought it?” The question came quickly, and Low’s voice was harsh. There was no longer the good-natured tone in which he had spoken while talking about the panther. “No,” replied Nick, “I haven’t anything to do with the company. I heard you were swindled.” “That was it, stranger,” cried Low; “nothing short of it. People say I was beat in a business deal, but I’m tellin’ ye it wasn’t a squar’ deal.” “I’d like to know all about it.” “What’s yer name?” “Nicholas.” “Waal, Mr. Nicholas, come down to the house. I’ve got nothin’ to hold back, and ef you’re interested, you can hear the whole story.” Low talked as they walked along through the woods. His voice continued to be harsh, as he told of the trick that had been played upon him, but Nick saw that Claymore had kept well within the law. “It wasn’t fair,” thought the detective; “but it was what would be called a business deal, and Low was beaten. No wonder he feels sore, but he can’t do anything about it.” Of course, Low mentioned the Reverend Elijah Judson in the course of his story, and his voice became more angry when he did so. “I can’t understand an out-an’-out villain,” said he; “but it seems a durned sight worse when a preacher takes to swindling, now, don’t it, Mr. Nicholas?” “I should say so,” replied Nick, “if I was sure that the preacher had known that the scheme was unfair.” “Know! How could he help it? Ain’t he president of the company?” “He was.” “Was? Ef he ain’t now, then thar’s been a mighty sudden change. Will ye come into the house, Mr. Nicholas?” They had come to cleared land at the bottom of the hill, and Low’s house was plainly seen in the moonlight a few rods away. None of the windows were lighted. “No,” said Nick; “your wife and children are asleep by this time, and we might wake them up. We can talk out here just as well, can’t we?” “Sure.” They sat down on a log near a shallow brook that crossed the farm. The moon rays reflected from the water straight into Nick’s eyes, and his attention was curiously attracted. “Must be handy having running water on your place,” he remarked. “Huh!” returned Low; “that’s whar you reckon wrong. I thought so when I took this land, and I found out my mistake too late.” “What’s the matter?”