Then in a low but peremptory voice Maggard said: "Rowlett, come hyar." With cautious but willing footfall Rowlett approached, but before he reached the bedside a curt undertone warned him, "Stop right thar ... ef ye draws nigher I'll call out. Kin ye hear me?... I aims ter talk low." "I'm hearkenin'." "All right. Give me yore pledge, full-solemn an' in ther sight of God Almighty ... thet ye'll hold yore hand till I gits well ... or else dies." "Whar'fore would I do thet?" "I'll tell you fer why. Ef ye don't ... I'll wake old Caleb up an' sw'ar ter a dyin' statement ... an' I'll tell ther full, total truth.... Does ye agree?" The other hesitated then evaded the question. "S'posin' I does give ye my pledge ... what then?" "Then ef I dies what I knows'll die with me.... But ef I lives ... me an' you'll settle this matter betwixt ourselves so soon es I kin walk abroad." That Maggard would ever leave that bed save to be borne to his grave seemed violently improbable, and if his silence could be assured while he lay there, success for the plotter would after all be complete. Yet Rowlett pretended to ponder the proposition which he burned ardently to accept. "Why air ye willin' ter make thet compact with me?" he inquired dubiously, and the other answered promptly: "Because ter send ye ter sulter in ther penitenshery wouldn't pleasure me ner content me ... no more then ter see ye unchurched fer tale-bearin'. Ye've got ter _die_ under my own hands.... Ef ye makes oath an' abides by hit ... ye needn't be afeared thet I won't keep mine, too." For a brief interval the standing man withheld his answer, but that was only for the sake of appearances. Then he nodded his head. "I gives ye my hand on hit. I sw'ars." Something like a grunt of bitter laughter came from the bed. "Thet hain't enough ... fotch me a Bible." "I don't know whar hit's at." "I reckon they've got one--in a godly dwellin'-house like this. Find hit--an' speedily ... or I'll call out." Rowlett turned and left the room, and presently he returned bearing a cumbersome and unmistakable tome. "Now kneel down," came the command from the bed, and the command was reluctantly obeyed. "Repeat these hyar words atter me ... 'I swa'rs, in ther sight an' hearin' of God Almighty....'" and from there the words ran double, low voiced from two throats, "'thet till sich time as Cal Maggard kin walk abroad, full rekivered ... I won't make no effort ter harm ner discomfort him ... no wise, guise ner fashion.... Ef I breaks this pledge I prays God ter punish me ... with ruin an' death an' damnation in hell hyaratter!" "An' now," whispered Maggard, "kiss ther book." As the weirdly sworn malefactor came slowly to his feet the instinct of craft and perfidy brought him back to the part he must play. "Now thet we onderstands one another," he said, slowly, "we're swore enemies atter ye gits well. Meantime, I reckon we'd better go on _seemin'_ plum friendly."