When the corn bread and the cane-molasses and the pork and black coffee were all on the table, the two sat down to the repast together, and Johnse proceeded to take Buddy into his confidence. "Yo' hain't t' open yore haid, Buddy--nary a word, yo' heah?" With his mouth full, Bud nodded understandingly. "Yo' seed thet feller whut went out o' heah? Thet's Plunkett--he's bin a spyin' down at th' Junction fo' me, goin' on fo' months now. I brought em up from Hazard jest fo' thet purpose. I tol' em to git a job at Hank Eversole's store ef he hed to work fo' nothin'. Well--Eversole doddled along with em fo' two weeks--then th' old sore-eyed dog offered Plunkett twenty dollars a month an' Plunkett tuk hit, yo' bet--he'd a tuk ten dollars, 'cause I bin a payin' em twenty-five a month out o' my proceeds from thes works, Buddy. I'm a goin' t' tell yo' all frum th' start, an' 'fore I finish yo'll be surprised. Yo' see, Bud--I alers knowed thet some skunk traitor led th' revenure on to yore pap, an' I alers hed a mind who hit wus, but I never said nothin'. I wus so shore I wus right thet three times I hed my gun on em--then somethin' told me maybe I wus mistaken--an' I let em go--but I learnt this mornin' thet I'm right----" Buddy gulped, dropped his tin cup of coffee, and strained forward over the table. "Who--who, Johnse--who?" he blurted, straining his ears as though a river separated him from the answer. "Jest yo' set down an' eat yo' meal--yo' jest wait til I git to thet--I'm aimin' t' tell hit all as hit comes along--eat yo' breakfast'--I learnt thes mornin' thet I wus right," Johnse went on evenly. "Thet was Plunkett heah thes mornin'--I saved his life down at Hazard one night ten years ago, an' Plunkett 'ud take a message to hell fo' me an' git an answer--besides, I pay em--an' I don't want yo' to shoot em--he air apt to slip up here any time now, day or night--I give em the countersign and to' th' men to let em up--an' I want yo' to look sharp 'fore yo' go t' pullin'--yo' mought slide th' pork thes way, Buddy. Plunkett air worth all I pay em, an' more too--an' I'd starve myse'f fo' ten years jes t' git th' information he's brung me." Buddy had suspended eating, and, conscious that he dare not interrupt Hatfield now, he sat tight-lipped and listened like an image, with one hand gripping the other and holding it down under the table. Johnse proceeded with his recital with a deliberation that grated insufferably on the boy's nerves and made him shiver with impatience and excitement.