"It ain't--none whatever," answered the judge promptly. "For I
don't value you--I don't value you that much!" and he snapped his
fingers to illustrate his meaning.




CHAPTER XI

THE ORATOR Or THE DAY


"Hanibal" the judge's voice and manner were rather stern.
"Hannibal, a man rode by here last night on a big bay horse. He
said he was looking for a boy about ten years old--a boy with a
bundle and rifle." There was an awful pause. Hannibal's heart
stood still for a brief instant, then it began to beat with
terrific thumps against his ribs. "Who was that man, Hannibal?"

"I--please I don't know--" gasped the child.

"Hannibal, who was that man?" repeated the judge.

"It were Captain Murrell." The judge regarded him with a look of
great steadiness. He saw his small face go white, he saw the
look of abject terror in his eyes. The judge raised his fist and
brought it down with a great crash on the table, so that the
breakfast dishes leaped and rattled. "We don't know any boy ten
years old with a rifle and bundle!" he said.