"I don't know why there air mo' thieves in town than in the country," he said, and Margaret challenged his admiration and aroused his surprise by remarking: "I reckon it's because there air mo' folks in town." He told her that she was gifted with fine reason and that the one saying alone was more than enough to pay her passage. As they drew nearer to town she began to grow nervous, but, with her woman's tact, exhibited no astonishment at what she saw; nor did she, after entering a busy street, show that she had ever been accustomed to a scene less lively. They drove straightway to the jail, and when tremulously she inquired for Jasper, they told her that he was not there. * * * * * In the mountains Tom and Lou were sojourning in a little town, when by chance they heard of the old man's arrest. At first Lou was overcome with alarm and grief, but her husband charmed her back to enthusiasm and to smiles. "Why," said he, "they will take him before my father, and as soon as I get there the governor will turn him loose--be tickled to do it." "But they will take him to jail, won't they?" "Mebby, if they don't take him up home. By this time they've found out all about him. We'll drive across the country, get on a railroad train and be there in a jiffy." CHAPTER XXIV. TWO FRUITFUL WITNESSES. Upon the case of the illicit distiller Judge Elliott had ever sat with utmost severity. As a colonel of cavalry he had distinguished himself. His left sleeve was empty. Lukewarm friends said that he was harsh and unforgiving. His intimates pointed to the fact that children were fond of him. One morning he came into the chambers adjoining the court-room and for a long time sat musing at his desk. Capt. Johnson, U. S. Marshal, and Foster, deputy, came in shortly afterward, the captain taking a seat at his desk and Foster standing like a sentinel at the closed door. The captain, after examining a number of papers, glancing round from time to time as if to note whether or not the Judge had come out of his abstraction, remarked to Foster: "How's your barometer? Or should I call it thermometer?" "Both, I guess," Foster replied. "I have two." He meant old wounds, foretellers of weather whims. "Are we going to have rain, Foster?" "Don't know--I feel fair weather." "My instrument may be a little acuter than yours. Mine says rain." The Judge looked up. "Rain by all means," said he; and then after a time the Captain remarked: "Doesn't appear that you are going to have much of a vacation, Judge." "That's a fact, and to one I had been looking forward. I am tired of this everlasting hum-drum, listening to false statements and prying into the criminal weaknesses of other men. The Lord knows that we have weaknesses enough of our own. But I don't see any immediate relief. The criminal docket precludes any adjournment. And I have a civil case under advisement. My son Tom is married. And so is my sister."