"I hain't had no han' in no hangin's nor nuthin' uh that sort," snarled Jake. "_You_ hain't? Jest you go un tell that out on Broad Run, sonny. Looky h-yer, Jake. I've got the evidence agin you, un ef you _dare_ me I'll go afore the gran' jury weth it. I jest dare you to dare me, _ef_ you dare." But Jake did not dare to dare him. He only moved slowly away toward his horse, the excited crowd surging after him, to his disgust. "Looky h-yer, Jake," Bob went on, following his retreat. "I want to gin you some _ad_vice as a well-wishin' friend un feller-citizen. Barb'ry knowed your v'ice las' night, un Barb'ry Grayson hain't the sort uv a gal to stan' the sort uv foolin' 't you've been a-doin' about Tom." "Aw, you shet up yer jaw, now wonchoo?" said Jake. "I say, Jake," said McCord, still pursuing the crest-fallen leader of Broad Run, while the crowd moved about Big Bob as a storm center. "I say there, Jake; liker 'n not Barb'ry'll stay in town to-night un go afore the gran' jury to-morry. Now ef I wuz you I'd cl'ar the county this very _i_dentical night. Your ornery lantern-jawed face wouldn' look half's han'some as Tom's in that air box in front uv the sher'f." "You shet up!" said Jake. "Come un shet me up, wonch you?" said Bob, rubbing his hands and laughing. Jake had reached his horse now, and without another word he mounted and rode away. But Bob kept walking about with his fists in his pockets, his big elbows protruding, and his face radiant with mischief until Sheriff Plunkett came out of the court-house. "I say, Sher'f," he called, "how many men'd you say they wuz in that air fust mob?" "Nigh onto forty, I should think," said Plunkett; "but of course I can't just exactly say." And he walked away, not liking to be catechised. There was something mysterious about that mob, and he was afraid there might be something that would count in the next election. "They had pistols, didn't they?" Bob continued, following him. "Yes, to be sure," said Plunkett, pausing irresolutely. "Now looky h-yer, Sher'f; I know sumpin about that air mob. They wuzn't but jest on'y two men in the whole thing. I don't say who they _wuz_"; and here Bob looked about on the crowd, which showed unmistakable signs of its relish for this revelation. "Un as fer pistols, they did have 'em. I've got one of 'em h-yer." Bob here pulled the wagon-spoke from the depths of his hunting-shirt. "That's one of the identical hoss-pistols that wuz p'inted at your head las' night. Felt kind-uh cold un creepy like, didn't it now, Hank Plunkett, when its muzzle was agin yer head, un it cocked, besides? Ha-a! ha!" The crowd jeered and joined in Bob's wild merriment. "I'll have you arrested," said the sheriff severely. "You've confessed enough now to make the grand jury indict you."