"Well," began the sheriff severely, "ain't it enough to make 'em
bloody-minded? Any one of 'em might have taken your money and
got stuck. Just to think of that is what hets them up." He
regarded the judge with a glance of displeasure. "I hate to see
a man so durn unreasonable in his p'int of view. And you picked
a lady--a widow-lady--say, ain't you ashamed?"
"Well, sir, what's going to happen to me?" demanded the judge
angrily.
"I reckon you'll be tried. I reckon the law will deal with you
--that is, if the public remains ca'm. Maybe it will come to the
conclusion that it'd prefer a lynching--people are funny." He
seemed to detach himself from the possible current of events.
"And, waking and sleeping, I have that before me!" cried the
judge bitterly.
"You had ought to have thought of that sooner, when you was
unloading that money. Why, it ain't even good counterfeit! I
wonder a man of your years wa'n't slicker."
"Have you taken steps to find the boy, or Solomon Mahaffy?"
inquired the judge.
"For what?"
"How is my innocence going to be established--how am I going to
clear myself if my witnesses are hounded out of the county?"
"I love to hear you talk, sir. I told 'em at the raising to-day
that I considered you one of the most eloquent minds I had ever
listened to--but naturally, sir, you are too smart to be honest.
You say you ain't been convicted yet; but you're going to be!
There's quite a scramble for places on the jury already.
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