“Pickett,” he said, “if I made any fool remarks on the witness stand to-day reflecting on you in any way, I want to ask your pardon. You know there’s no man in the profession, nor anywhere else, for that matter, whom I esteem more highly than I do you. My quick tongue always did get me into no end of trouble, and I’m afraid it always will. It wasn’t two minutes ago that I was crushed in repartee by that wise fool from Pickett’s Gap, Gabriel, by name. But, Pickett, say! whose idea was that moonlight survey, anyway? It was a genuine _coup-d’état_.” “Oh, that was Wilson’s scheme. Our chief, you know. He knew that you were running along the westerly bank of the Delaware that afternoon and that a location by us next day would be too late. We didn’t dream that you would get through the gap that night. I didn’t dream that you had been through it when I went down in the moonlight. If I had seen your stakes there, I should more than likely have turned back.” “Well, it’s lucky for your people that you didn’t see them, then. For the only hope you have, the way the matter stands now, is in the theory that your board was the first to adopt the location. But that was a strange thing, wasn’t it, about that boy pulling out the stakes? It wasn’t a mere dare-devil adventure, you understand. It was done conscientiously in order that justice--from his standpoint--might prevail. Took some courage to go down through that gap in the night-time you know, and pull out that line of stakes. But, talk about grit and moral heroism! did you ever see or hear of anything equal to that boy coming down from Pickett’s Gap, through a world of drifted snow, and going on the stand, voluntarily, to swear himself into jail just to set us right on the matter of the stakes, and to do justice to you? Say, it was magnificent! If I had a boy like him, I’d keep him with me day and night, just for the inspiration.” “Yes? I’m glad to hear you say that. He’s my boy, Nicholson. You didn’t know that, did you?” Nicholson stared in amazement. “Your boy!” he exclaimed. “Why, look here, Pickett! You’re not a son of the owner of Pickett’s Gap, are you?” “Yes, I am.” “Give me your hand. You’ve got a father and a son to be proud of. Why, that old man will move heaven and earth to defend and preserve what he considers his rights. I looked into the muzzle of his double-barrelled shot-gun one day; well, it was lucky the sheriff came when he did, or I’d have been picking bird-shot No. 2 out of my anatomy to this day. And I don’t blame him a bit--not a bit. I’d have done the same thing in his place. But that boy, Pickett, why that boy’s a hero. I wondered what you carried him out of the court room so tenderly for when he fainted. Where is he? Did he get over his illness? No wonder he went to pieces, poor fellow!” When Nicholson once started in to talk, it was of no use trying to interrupt him till he was through. “Yes,” replied Charlie, sadly, “he recovered; he went home with his grandfather.”