When the long arm of the law reached out from Fayetteville, where
there was a real judge and a real sheriff, it clothed itself with
very special terrors. The boy looked up into Yancy's face. That
tense silence had struck a chill through his heart.

"It's all right," whispered Yancy reassuringly, smiling down upon
him. And Hannibal, comforted, smiled back, and nestled his head
against his Uncle Bob's side.

"Well, Mr. Blount, what did you do with this here order?" asked
the squire.

"I went with it to Scratch Hill," said Blount.

"And showed it to Bob Yancy ?" asked the squire.

"No, he wa'n't there. But the boy was, and I took him in my
buggy and drove off. I'd got as far as the Ox Road forks when I
met Yancy--"

"What happened then?--but a body don't need to ask! Looks like
the law was all you had on your side!" and the squire glanced
waggishly about the room.

"I showed Yancy the order--"

"You lie, Dave Blount; you didn't!" said Yancy. "But I can't say
as it would have made no difference, Squire. He'd have taken his
licking just the same and I'd have had my nevvy out of that
buggy!"