"I was just sayin' to Lem Hallowell," began the judge, at last, "that I
thought he was a little mite hasty--"

"Er--indicted us, Judge?" said Jethro.

The judge and Wetherell heard the question with different emotions. Mr.
Parkinson did not seem astonished at the miracle which had put Jethro in
possession of this information, but heaved a long sigh of relief, as a
man will when the worst has at length arrived.

"I had to, Jethro--couldn't help it. I tried to get Hallowell to wait
till you come back and talk it over friendly, but he wouldn't listen;
said the road was dangerous, and that he'd spoken about it too often. He
said he hadn't anything against you."

"Didn't come in to complain," said Jethro, "didn't come in to complain.
Road is out of repair. W-what's the next move?"

"I'm sorry, Jethro--I swan I'm sorry." He cleared his throat. "Well," he
continued in his judicial manner, "the court has got to appoint an agent
to repair that road, the agent will present the bill, and the town will
have to pay the bill--whatever it is. It's too bad, Jethro, that you have
allowed this to be done."

"You say you've got to app'int an agent?"

"Yes--I'm sorry--"

"Have you app'inted one?"