“And then she come right to me and give me a pat on the back and says: ‘It didn’t need any of them writin’s to make me give him his come-uppance, Mr. Look. I never give a snap of my finger for him, anyway, since I met you. Ow, hee-hee!” “You seem to be feelin’ ’bout as gay as they make ‘em,” called a voice from the roadside. Hiram started up and wiped the tears of merriment from his eyes. Two men were standing by the highway fence, men whose solemn faces were streaked by perspiration. One of them carried a small rifle. The other was “Sawed-Off” Purday, the Palermo deputy-sheriff. He was armed with a club. “Guess you must have heard the news about your friend,” said Purday, with accent on the last word. “Nothin’ else would make you any more tickleder. P’raps you’ve seen him along the ro’d. If you have we’ll be much obleeged for a clue.” “Seen who?” demanded Hiram, thinking at first that the men referred to Captain Nymphus Bodfish. He eyed their weapons and felt a qualm of fear, for he didn’t know what the exasperated skipper might have prepared for him. “Klebe Willard.” “Klebe Willard!” There was relief as well as astonishment in Hiram’s tone. “Well, there’s been hell to pave and no pitch hot down in the village,” said Doughty, nothing loath to impart sensational news. “There’s four possys out after Cap Willard and this is one of ’em. He’s took to the woods somewheres and there ain’t no knowin’ where. But I reckon I’ll catch him if I only get onto one clue,” he added, confidently. “No one ever got away from me yet. Howsomever, it’s leg-weary work, this cuttin’ acrost pastures and plowed land. You say you ain’t seen hide nor hair of him?” “I ain’t said nothin’ about it,” retorted Hiram. “But I ain’t seen him, if that’s what you’re after. Why in Tophet don’t you tell a man what the critter has done instead of standin’ there and chawin’ ter-backer with that infernal eight-day motion?” “It ain’t altogether clear jest what it was all about,” related Doughty, calmly. “All that’s known is that Klebe come whoopin’ into the village from Square Harbour to-day and tore into his father’s office and then come out and hot-footed home as though Old Nick was after him. In an hour or so the old Judge went down to Klebe’s house, and it seems from what the neighbours say that Klebe had been tea-in’ up in the meantime and jawin Myry, and a little while after the Judge come in he got to goin’ it worse about somethin’ or other. There ain’t much head nor tail to stories, but as near as I can find out he went to lick the old man, bein’ crazy drunk, I reckon, and Myry stepped in between, and he floored the two of ’em and kicked over one of the young ones and took to the woods howlin’ like a looservee. It’s bad bus’ness.” Purday spat far and sighed dolefully.