"I do!" And a rough, fierce-looking man confronted him. "What right have you to say so?" asked Matthew, cooling off considerably. "Because you lie!" said the man, boldly. "You've seen him within a less time than half an hour, and well you know it. Now, if you wish to keep yourself out of this trouble, answer truly. We are in no mood to deal with liars or equivocators. Where is Simon Slade?" "I do not know," replied Matthew, firmly. "Is he in the house?" "He may be, or he may not be. I am just as ignorant of his exact whereabouts as you are." "Will you look for him?" Matthew stepped to the door, opening from behind the bar, and called the name of Frank. "What's wanted?" growled the boy. "Is your father in the house?" "I don't know, nor don't care," was responded in the same ungracious manner. "Someone bring him into the bar-room, and we'll see if we can't make him care a little." The suggestion was no sooner made, than two men glided behind the bar, and passed into the room from whence the voice of Frank had issued. A moment after they reappeared, each grasping an arm of the boy, and bearing him like a weak child between them. He looked thoroughly frightened at this unlooked-for invasion of his liberty. "See here, young man." One of the leading spirits of the crowd addressed him, as soon as he was brought in front of the counter. "If you wish to keep out of trouble, answer our questions at once, and to the point. We are in no mood for trifling. Where's your father?" "Somewhere about the house, I believe," Frank replied, in an humble tone. He was no little scared at the summary manner with which he had been treated. "How long since you saw him?" "Not long ago." "Ten minutes." "No; nearly half an hour." "Where was he then?" "He was going up-stairs." "Very well, we want him. See him, and tell him so." Frank went into the house, but came back into the bar-room after an absence of nearly five minutes, and said that he could not find his father anywhere. "Where is he then?" was angrily demanded. "Indeed, gentlemen, I don't know." Frank's anxious look and frightened manner showed that he spoke truly. "There's something wrong about this--something wrong--wrong," said one of the men. "Why should he be absent now? Why has he taken no steps to secure the man who committed a murder in his own house, and before his own eyes? "I shouldn't wonder if he aided him to escape," said another, making this serious charge with a restlessness and want of evidence that illustrated the reckless and unjust spirit by which the mob is ever governed. "No doubt of it in the least!" was the quick and positive response. And at once this erroneous conviction seized upon every one. Not a single fact was presented. The simple, bold assertion, that no doubt existed in the mind of one man as to Slade's having aided Green to escape, was sufficient for the unreflecting mob.