He first heard the distant murmur of voices on the road
and passed an uneasy and restless ten minutes, with his eye to a
crack in the door. He was soothed and reassured, however, when
at last be caught sight of the sheriff.
"Well, judge, I got company for you," cried the sheriff
cheerfully, as he threw open the door. "A hoss-thief!"
He pushed into the building a man, hatless and coatless, with a
pair of pale villainous eyes and a tobaccostained chin. The
judge viewed the new-comer with disfavor. As for the
horse-thief, he gave his companion in misery a coldly critical
stare, seated himself on the stool, and with quite a fierce air
devoted all his energy to mastication. He neither altered his
position nor changed his expression until he and the judge were
alone, then, catching the judge's eye, he made what seemed a
casual movement with his hand, the three fingers raised; but to
the judge this clearly was without significance, and the
horse-thief manifested no further interest where he was
concerned. He did not even condescend to answer the one or two
civil remarks the judge addressed to him.
As the long afternoon wore itself away, the judge lived through
the many stages of doubt and uncertainty, for suppose anything
had happened to Mahaffy! When the sheriff came with his supper
he asked him if he had seen or heard of his friend.
"Judge, I reckon he's lopin' on yet. I never seen a man of his
years run as well as he done--it was inspirin' how he got over
the ground!" answered the sheriff.
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