"Not much room for shaking hands here, Bill," he said, smiling sadly. "It is already an age since I left home. How are you, old man? Tell me how they took it. No, don't. I know. Well, I gave myself up and the sheriff wouldn't believe me at first, but he got it through his head after a while. He was very kind and when he had locked me in here he went to see whether I could be let out on bail, but I understand that I can't. It's all right; I might as well be in here. Bill, I have tried to feel sorry for killing him, but I can't. I reckon I must be about as mean as they make them. And it will all come out pretty soon, for court is still in session and all they've got to do is to rig up their jury after the inquest and go ahead. I'm going to make the best of it. The worst feature is the disgrace and suffering at home, and, of course, that almost tears my heart out when I let it. But to tell you the truth, I'd rather be hanged than to be on the grid-iron all the time. Who's that?" Etheredge came into the corridor. He leered at Alf and Alf sneered at him. "I suppose you found the dog that I told you was lying in the road--the dog that tried to bite me," said Alf, with a cold smile. "Jucklin, I didn't come in here to be insulted." "All right, there's the door. Say, there, jailer, you have just let in a gray rat and I wish you'd come and drive him out." I turned to Etheredge and pointed to the door. "I must respect your wish," he said, speaking to me. "I've an engagement with you--you are to be my guest," and without another word he strode away. I remained with Alf as long as the jailer thought it prudent to let me stay, and then I went about the town to gather its sentiment. And I was grieved to find that every one declared it to be cold-blooded murder. My heart was heavy as I rode toward home, for the old people were looking to me for encouragement. Guinea met me at the gate. She tried to smile, but failed. "Don't try to look pleased at seeing me," I said. "It is too much of an effort." And if she could not smile she could give me a look of gratitude. She went with me to the stable, saying not a word; and when I had turned the horse loose she followed me to the sitting-room. At the door I faltered, but Mrs. Jucklin's voice bade me enter. She was sitting in a rocking-chair, with the Bible in her lap, and placing her hand upon the book, she thus spoke to me: "Don't hesitate to talk, for His rod and His staff shall comfort me." I had not noticed the old man, so bent were my eyes upon his wife, but now he arose into view, and, coming to me, he whispered: "From the stock that stood at the stake." I told them all I knew, which was not much; and then knelt down and prayed with them. CHAPTER XII.