the candle, stepped, or rather staggered, into the yard. Mahaffv
followed him.

"What's wanted?" asked the judge, as he lurched up to horse and
rider, holding his candle aloft. The light showed a tail fellow
mounted on a handsome bay horse. It was Murrell.

"Is there an inn hereabouts?" he asked.

"You'll find one down the road a ways," said Mahaffy. The judge
said nothing. He was staring up at Murrell with drunken gravity.

"Have either of you gentlemen seen a boy go through here to-day?
A boy about ten years old?" Murrell glanced from one to the
other. Mr. Mahaffy's thin lips twisted themselves into a
sarcastic smile. He turned to the judge, who spoke up quickly.

"Did he carry a bundle and rifle?" he asked. Murrell gave eager
assent.

"Well," said the judge, "he stopped here along about four o'clock
and asked his way to the nearest river landing." Murrell
gathered up his reins, and then that fixed stare of the judge's
seemed to arrest his attention.

"You'll know me again," he observed.

"Anywhere," said the judge.

"I hope that's a satisfaction to you," said Murrell.