“Then I had ’im right whar I wanted ‘im, an’ I up an’ told ’im that I had a wife that was all the world to me, an’ that durin’ my term mischievous folks had lied ag’in me an’ persuaded ’er to git a divorce, an’ that a oily-tongued scamp was a-tryin’ to marry ’er fer what little land she had. I reminded ’im that I was put in fer stealin’, an that I had worked four yeer o’ my sentence, an’ that it looked like a good deal o’ punishment fer jest one spree, but that I wouldn’t complain, bein’ as I was cured of the liquor habit an’ never intended to put the neck of a bottle to my mouth ag’in, but that I did kinder want to hurry back home ‘fore too much damage was done. “Well, I’m not lyin’ when I say the governor’s eyes was wet. All of a sudden he helt out his han’ to me an’ said: “‘I feel shore you never intended to steal that hoss, Wakeman.’ “‘My wife never has believed it fer one instant,’ said the superintendent. ‘An’ it takes a woman to ferret out guilt.’ “The governor tuk a sheet o’ paper an’ a pen an’ said: “‘Wakeman, I’m a-goin’ to pardon you, an’ what’s more, I inten’ to send a statement to all the newspapers that I’m convinced you are a wronged man. I’ve done wuss than you was accused of in my young days, an’ had the cheek to run fer the office of governor.’” Then the superintendent’s wife come in an’ stood up thar an’ cried, an’ axed to be allowed to unlock my manacles. She got out my old suit--this un heer--an’ breshed it ‘erself, an’ kept on a-cryin’ an’ a-laughin’ at the same time The last words that she said to me was: “‘Wakeman, go home an’ make up with yore wife; she won’t turn ag’in you when you git back to the old place whar you an’ her has lived together so long, an’ whar yore child’s grave is.’” The speaker paused. For a man so coarse in appearance, his tone had grown remarkably tender. Lucinda was staring wide-eyed, with a fixed aspect of features, as if she were half frightened at the unwonted commotion within herself and the danger of its appearing on the surface. Finally she took refuge in the act of raising her apron to her eyes. Mrs. Wakeman had excellent command over herself, drawing upon a vast fund of offended pride, the interest of which had compounded within the last four years. Just at this crisis the steady beat of a horse’s hoofs broke into the hushed stillness of the room. Lucinda lowered her apron with wrists that seemed jointless bone, and stared at her sister. “Are you a-goin’ to let that feller stick his head inside that door to-night?”