Now go
on!" he finished sternly.
"I only know what Bladen told me," said Blount sullenly.
"Well, I reckon Mr. Bladen ought to feel obliged to tell the
truth," said the squire.
"He done give me the order from the judge of the co't--I was to
show it to Bob Yancy--"
"Got that order?" demanded the squire sharply. With a smile,
damaged, but clearly a smile, Blount produced the order. Hmm
--app'inted guardeen of the boy--" the squire was presently heard
to murmur. The crowded room was very still now, and more than
one pair of eyes were turned pityingly in Yancy's direction.
When the long arm of the law reached out from Fayetteville, where
there was a real judge and a real sheriff, it clothed itself with
very special terrors. The boy looked up into Yancy's face. That
tense silence had struck a chill through his heart.
"It's all right," whispered Yancy reassuringly, smiling down upon
him. And Hannibal, comforted, smiled back, and nestled his head
against his Uncle Bob's side.
"Well, Mr. Blount, what did you do with this here order?" asked
the squire.
"I went with it to Scratch Hill," said Blount.
"And showed it to Bob Yancy ?" asked the squire.
"No, he wa'n't there. But the boy was, and I took him in my
buggy and drove off. I'd got as far as the Ox Road forks when I
met Yancy--"
"What happened then?--but a body don't need to ask! Looks like
the law was all you had on your side!" and the squire glanced
waggishly about the room.
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