"It's a shame something can't be done for Tom," said Mason. "He's got a right to a fair trial; and we think he's innocent." "I'll do anything I can," said Markham, whose memory had been haunted by the appealing face of Mrs. Grayson ever since his domiciliary visit in search of Tom's pistol. "I'm not caring much whether he's innocent or not, meself," said Magill. "May be Lockwood aggravated 'im an' naded puttin' out of the way. All I say is, Tom faced that crowd the other day like a man, an' he's a born gintleman in me own istimation; an' I'd niver let a gintleman be hung by a gang of blackguards, if I could help it." "Broad Run don't vote for you, Magill," said Markham. "You wouldn't ixpict it to vote for a man with a clane shirt on, now would ye?" "Well," said Bob, "I've been a-thinkin' that ef Pete could make people b'lieve that they wuz another man wanted fer the shootin', it would sort uh muddle Jake's plans fer a while, un by that time liker'n not Abe Lincoln'll find out who the rale murderer is." "Tell me what's the color of his hair, Pate?" said Magill. "Then I'll help you foind him." "Well," drawled Markham, turning a little sidewise in the saddle to rest himself, and looking perfectly serious and secretive, "I haven't found out about his hair,--he wore a straw hat, you know. But he was a youngish fellow, with foxy whiskers under his chin." "Middlin' small?" suggested Magill, with a faint pucker of drollery about the corner of his mouth. "Yes," said Markham, biting the butt of his beech switch meditatively. "Ruther under the average, I should say, without being small." "One eye a leetle crossed?" Bob McCord inquired, laughing. "Right eye a little _out_," said Markham, waving his hand outwardly. "He had quarreled with Lockwood a good while ago and owed him a grudge. That's the man." "Know his name?" put in Magill. "N-o. That's one thing we're trying to find out. He come from off East where Lockwood used to live. We've got to try to find if anybody knows which way he went when he left the camp-meetin' that night, and if anybody can tell just where he come from." "Oh! I understand now what you're after," said Magill. "There'll be a plinty will remimber the man when you come to spake about him. Don't you say what you want him fer. L'ave all explinations to me. I'm not responsible, an' I'll let out the saycrits of the shairiff's office." The passers-by had grown visibly fewer in the last few minutes, and now the belated ones rode for the most part in a rapid trot or a gallop. Mrs. Markham began to warn her husband that there would not be a seat left; so the horses' heads were drawn up, and the trio set forward with a nod of good-bye to Bob and the schoolmaster.