"I am sorry, Mr. Throckmorton," Moth began, without preface of any kind, "to thwart you in regard to your nephew, your intention being worthy, no doubt. This I am compelled to do, however, and I come now with the decree of the court, due and legal summons having been given, to claim his person, and I demand that you give him up peaceably and without show of resistance." Saying which, he took a document from his pocket and held it out for Uncle Job to examine, adding, "Here is my authority, sir!" Uncle Job, neither taking the paper nor making any motion to do so, answered directly: "I have also the decree of our court, due summons having in like manner been given, awarding the lad to my care, Mr. Moth, and so I shall not be able to comply with your request." At this Moth started back, but presently regaining himself, answered: "My decree, Mr. Throckmorton, will be found to antedate yours, and therefore holds priority." "I think not," Uncle Job replied, shortly. "I know it does," Moth answered, in a heat. "I went before the court the day of its opening after the summer vacation, and my decree is as of that date, and nothing you have, therefore, can antedate it." "I did the like here, Mr. Moth, and so the order I hold must bear the same date as yours," and Uncle Job took the paper from his pocket and held it for the other to examine. At this I thought Moth would have toppled over, so great was his surprise and rage. "So you see you are forestalled, Mr. Moth, and Gilbert being here our judge will, of course, exercise his prerogative; and now, as there is nothing more to be said about the matter, I will bid you good day"; and Uncle Job, bowing politely, turned on his heel and walked away. "The judge at his home will take precedence of all others," Moth yelled after him; "and if necessary I will appeal to the higher courts. I’ll not take denial and will have the child whether or no." To this Uncle Job made no response, and Moth, after a while, finding no attention paid to his threats, turned and went the way he came. When he was gone I looked at Constance, and with such dismay in my face that she cried out: "He can’t do anything, Gilbert, I am sure he can’t. Your Uncle Job said so, and I would believe him before I would that mean little lawyer." To this I made no response, for to tell the truth, since Moth had overcome Fox and shown such courage and cunning, my fear of him had increased beyond all bounds. Indeed, I thought him capable of any desperate thing that might come into his head; and so, going back into the room I sat down, at a loss what to do or say. "You haven’t anything to fear, Gilbert, indeed you haven’t," Constance kept on repeating, hovering about me like a gentle dove, and as if dreading some foolish resolve I might make. "You don’t know what he is capable of, and the only thing left for me is to go away. I have made Uncle Job enough trouble already, and it’s no use, for Moth will never give me any peace."