“Did ye see Eli?” he demanded presently. Rathburn nodded. “Hev he got sensible agin?” asked Baintree, remembering the constable’s delirious condition when they visited the house together. “He talked very sensibly indeed, this evening,” the physician replied evasively, the professional punctilio instantly on the alert, “especially about lynchers and law-breakers generally—sound views.” Baintree became suddenly rigid. “Ye warn’t fool enough,” he said, sitting stiffly upright, “ter go tellin’ Eli Strobe, the off’cer o’ the law, ’bout’n them men _by name_—they’d hang ye fur a informer, ef they hed nuthin’ else agin ye, ef enny of ’em fund it out.” “_That_ for their slip-knots!” cried Rathburn, snapping his fingers and laughing in gay bravado. “I’m not in collusion with ’em, an’ I’ll do nothing to protect ’em. I’ll give ’em away every time!” Baintree visibly winced at the mere idea of this defiance. He made no response for a moment, but looked doubtfully over his shoulder at the broken batten shutter. It shivered and shook as if in sympathy with his glance. “The wind is harsh ter-night,” he said again. “I’m through with this skulking and hiding,” said Rathburn, the superficial composure and friendly tone that he had maintained giving way suddenly. “I’ll say what I mean, and what I think, and what I feel. And I’m going to hire twenty—fifty hands—to sink shafts in both those gorges where the best indications are.” Baintree had been startled by his sudden change of tone, and had listened with relaxing muscles and lips parted. A certain hardening took possession of his features as the final words fell on the air. A covert triumph, a definite appreciation of his own cleverness, shone in his eyes, incongruously enough with the mild tenor of his speech as he said, “Waal, Eugene, I wish ye well—I wish ye well! Ye an’ me hev been mighty frien’ly tergether an’ I hev enjyed yer comp’ny.” Rathburn, tilted back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head, looked, with curling lip and sarcastic, glowing eye, the sneering protest that it was futile to speak. Since he had been so free with his company he could not logically quarrel with Baintree for presuming to find it agreeable.