"I won't equivocate," responded the head of the Falkins family with blunt directness. "If you are honest, you deserve to be treated frankly, and, if you are not honest, there is no use in flattering you. It's not my way to flatter men. You have always been a plausible talker, and you have cloaked many criminal acts under that plausibility. On the other hand, I can't see anything which you could gain in this matter by deceit. On its face it looks fair enough--and if you come through alive, it may bring peace to the county." Again the Spooner leader nodded gravely. "That's worth taking a chance for, ain't it?" he inquired. "Have you talked to any of your people?" demanded the old man as he agitatedly paced his verandah. "No--I haven't seen a soul except those in my own house--and you. I didn't want it known yet that I was in the county. But in the next two nights I'm goin' to have speech with a half-dozen Spooners, an' they'll be a half-dozen of the strongest men." McAllister Falkins considered for a time, and put a pertinent question. "Can you and your half-dozen hold the Spooner crowd in check? Saturday will be the fourth of July. There will be heavy drinking in Jackson. Can you answer for your rank and file?" For just an instant, the grave face of the dark-haired giant lost its impassivity and something like a snort of contempt escaped his lips. "When you drive sheep," he demanded curtly, "do you consult the fool beasts? Give me the sheep-men an' the sheep-dogs, an' I'll pretty nigh tell you where the sheep are going to." The visitor rose and stood looking from the eyes of one to those of the other. "We will both be in Jackson on Saturday," said McAllister Falkins. "Me, too," said the giant. "But I'll be there unbeknownst until the minute comes for me to show myself." The Deacon had taken up his hat and reached the top step of the porch. There he turned and, looking at the younger man, suggested: "I was goin' to advise that you didn't go, Henry. Your father can do what's got to be done." "Why?" demanded the son sharply. "You arrange that my father shall take his life into his hands in an effort to quiet a frenzied mob, and then suggest that I let him go alone? Why?" The visitor seemed to sympathize with the sentiment. "That's right," he conceded. "After all, you've got to go. I don't think Mr. Falkins is runnin' much risk. I don't think there's a man in these parts that would harm him or let him be harmed. But it's a little different with you. Little Newt Spooner has been pardoned out of the penitentiary. I guess you knew that?" "So I heard. What has that to do with me?" "Well, he's a mean little devil, that boy is, an' he's holdin' it up against you that your testimony busted his alibi."