"When next you see him you can put two questions. Ask him in the first
place if he saved it at my request."

"Tut-tut. A man likes to live, whether he axes for it or no," grunted
Elias Sweetland. "And what the devil do you know about it?" demanded
the stranger.

"I reckon I know what a man's like."

"Oh, you do, do you? Wait a while, my friend. In the second place," he
went on, returning to Prudy, "ask young Zebedee Minards, if he wants my
life back, to come and fetch it. And now attend all. Do you see
these?"

He threw back his cloak, and, diving a hand into his coat-pocket,
produced a couple of pistols. The butts were rich with brass-work, and
the barrels shone as he held them out in the firelight.

"You needn't dodge your heads about so gingerly. I'm only about to give
you an exhibition. How many tall candlesticks have you in the house
besides the pair here?" he inquired of Prudy.

"Dree pair."

"Put candles in the other two pairs and set them on the chimney-shelf."

"Why?"

"Do as I tell you."