"Now, Colonel, I must trouble you to remove your coat. There, thank you! Gilbert, take off his belt and strap his arms to his body," Uncle Job went on, pleasantly, keeping his pistols all the while leveled upon Burke. "Tighter, lad, tighter! Don’t leave any slack. We are getting on, Colonel, we are getting on; so don’t be impatient. Now take my belt, Gilbert, and bind his legs together in the same way. Harder, boy! you don’t half pull! There, that is better. I am sorry to do this, Colonel, but assassins and those who murder without knowing why must be carefully looked to," Uncle Job ran on in a chatty way, as if costuming a friend and being desirous of doing it well, even at some personal inconvenience. "Now, Colonel, I must ask you to lie down. There, so, so! That will do; and let me advise you to keep still if you value your life, for I am in a mood to kill you," Uncle Job added, soberly enough, examining Burke’s fastenings as he spoke, tightening them and turning the belts about so that the buckles could not be reached. To all that was said and done, Burke made no response, seeming to feel that it was useless to make remonstrance. Indeed, his discovery and the dead man lying in full view told him that to beg for mercy was a waste of breath. When at last Uncle Job had things fixed to his liking, he stopped, and looking at Burke, said: "Now that we have some leisure, Burke, I should like to know how it happens you are here, and an outlaw, for when I saw you last you were about to return to Mississippi." "Yes, and I should, except for your robbing me of my winnings, curse you!" he answered, but mildly, and as if speaking to a friend. "What difference did that make?" Uncle Job asked. "All the difference in the world, for I could then have recouped myself, but being under a ban I dared not go back empty-handed." "Then it was for both gain and revenge that you were going to kill me to-night?" "Were you the man I was waiting for?" Burke asked, in surprise. "Yes, and you knew it." "No; for if I had I would have gone to Appletop to make sure of killing you," Burke answered. "I should have thought Blott’s murder enough for one night," Uncle Job answered, impatiently. "That was nothing. He brought it on himself, the fool! And I should have slept soundly for a week could I have killed you, too. That is the way such things affect me," Burke replied, looking Uncle Job coldly in the face. "Have you no conscience?" the latter asked, out of all patience. "Don’t talk cant! Conscience is a matter of digestion. If that is good, I sleep soundly; if not, a cricket will make me start with fear." "Have you no mercy, either, Burke?" Uncle Job asked. "No, not if it would rob me of a crumb or a drop of water I craved. It is every one for himself as I look at it." "You devil! You don’t deserve to live."