'Leastwise none o' 'em war a-goin' t-ter do it,' said Pete quietly. 'They air all mindful o' Brother Jake Tobin's longest ear, ez kin hear a call from the church yander in Cade's Cove ev'y time he g-gits mad at 'em. But I tell ye,' added Pete, restoring his plug of tobacco to his pocket, and chewing hard on the bit which his strong teeth had wrenched off, 'it did 'pear to me ez they mought hev stretched a p'int when I see the pa'son ridin' off with them two sneakin' off'cers. He hed so nigh los' his senses with the notion he war a-goin' ter be jailed ez they had ter hold him up in the saddle, else he'd hev been under the beastis's huffs in a minute.' 'Whyn't you-uns go on his bond?' asked Amos James suddenly. 'Who?' shouted Pete, in stentorian amaze, above the clamour of the old mill. 'You-uns--the whole Cayce lay-out,' reiterated Amos James. His blood had risen to his face. All the instincts of justice within him revolted at the picture Pete had drawn, coarsely and crudely outlined, but touched with the vivid realities of nature. It was as a scene present before him: the falsely accused man borne away, crushed with shame, while the true criminal looked on with a lax conscience and an impersonal interest, and thriftily saved his observations to recount to his cronies at the mill. Amos James cared naught for the outraged majesty of the law. The rescue of the prisoner from its fierce talons seemed to him, instead, humane and beneficent. His sense of justice was touched only by the manifest cruelty when one man was forced to bear the consequences of another's act. 'You-uns mought hev done ez much,' he said significantly. 'I reckon they would hev 'lowed ez we warn't wuth it,' said Pete, quietly ruminant; 'the still can't show up.' 'Ye never tried it,' said Amos. 'Waal, d-dad, he warn't thar, an' I couldn't ondertake ter speak for the rest. An' I ain't beholden no ways to Pa'son Kelsey. I hev no call ter b-b-bail him ez I knows on. I hev no hand in his bein' arrested an' sech.' 'Hev no hand in his bein' arrested!' retorted Amos scornfully. Pete was staring stolidly at him, and the other men assumed an intent, inquiring attitude. Amos James felt suddenly that he had gone too far. He had no wish to fasten this stigma upon the Cayces; he had every reason to avoid it. He did not know how far he had been accounted a confidant in the intimacies of the cave when Rick Tyler had found a refuge there. He could not disregard the trust reposed in him. And yet he could not recall his words. Pete's blank gaze changed to an amazed comprehension. He spoke out bluntly the thought in the other's mind. 'Ye air a-thinkin', Amos Jeemes, ez 'twar we-uns ez cut Rick Tyler a-loose o' the sher'ff!' he exclaimed. Amos, confronted with his own suspicion, listened with a guilty air.