“Oh, g’long, Teck.” The officer was standing now, and he gave his friend’s shoulder an admonitory push. “I don’t want ye. I don’t wanter kerry ye all the way ter Colb’ry an’ cut my visit off. An’ I don’t b’lieve I could git ye c’mitted ter stan’ yer trial noways. The old man”—it was the high sheriff thus antiquated—“air powerful partic’lar ’bout makin’ false an’ foolish arrests, an’ he’s responsible fur me.” He shook his head in a manner that intimated his sense of the weight of this fact. “Folks can’t git arrested fur fun. Naw, sir, I don’t want ye. I’ll kem arter ye mighty quick ef ennything happens ter Eli. Don’t ye be ’fear’d.” “I want ter be arrested now,” reiterated Jepson. “His fambly want me arrested.” The deputy looked puzzled. “I don’t b’lieve ye, Teck. Ef they did, they’d make a complaint agin ye, an’ git out a warrant.” “They air all wimmen; they dunno how.” Then, urgently, “When ye go back ter town, tell the ‘old man’ ez the crim’nal wanted ter be arrested, and the fambly wanted him ter be jailed, too, an’ ye wouldn’t.” “Teck, ye air out’n yer head!” exclaimed Wright. “Go up ter the house an’ ax ’em,” said the would-be prisoner. The deputy, thus summoned from the unofficial ease and pleasure of his visit to the perplexity and caution incident to handling a case new to his short experience, hesitated for a moment, and then, putting his hands in his pockets, set forth, silent, saturnine, circumspect, seeming a very different person from the smart young idler before the white-faced store. He carried the wonder of it with him all adown the turn-row between the ranks of corn and to the doorstep of the house itself. “A body would ’low ez a smart, strong, rampagious feller like Teck would be jes’ the one ter gin the sher’ff a tumble race through them mountings.” He nodded toward the wooded heights, with a realizing sense of their value to the ill-doer as an impenetrable covert. Then he lifted his voice in a stentorian “Hello!” for knocking on the door is here little in vogue. The sound summoned little Mrs. Strobe, valiant as a far larger woman might be, and trim, and dapper, with a reproachful lifted forefinger, and a gibe upon her lips, although her curiosity as to his mission quivered through every fibre. “Waal, stranger, ye couldn’t holler louder ef ye war a peeg an’ ’twar killin’-time. Ye’ll never go off in a lung complaint. Don’t ye know we hev got a sick man in the house?” Isabel had boldly followed her grandmother, and stood ready to participate in the conversation, should it prove of interest. Marcella came only to the door, but lingered there, leaning against the frame. “That’s jes’ what I kem ter speak ter ye ’bout, ma’am,” said the officer. “I’m the dep’ty sher’ff o’ Kildeer County.” “Laws-a-massy!” exclaimed the old woman, by way of compliment and obeisance to the dignity of his authority.