the eagerness of the query and by the light in the old man's face.
"Let's see her now. By God, Rowe, Tolman was right!"
"If you think it best, Mr. Taylor. There are things—"
"What things?"
He paused, with a foot on the running board, but as he turned Rowe saw that this was no rebuke, that it was all interest and caution.
"It might be best to have you go over the local situation, let me explain what we have done, call in Harris and perhaps some others. It—it's likely to be quite difficult."
Seated in the car Luke said:
"Maybe you're right, Rowe. We won't take any chances. Let's go at it—
"Mr.—Mr., whatever your name is, you don't have to go so damned slow for me. I can stand a bump or two!"
Upon the edge of Seven Mile Swamp Jim Harris stood in Charley Stump's cabin. He had the old man by the wrist and Charley had sunk whimpering to one knee.
"Afraid are you?" Harris snarled. "Afraid of what?"
"I tell you, he's been watchin' me, Jim! He follered me."
"There's nothing for you to be afraid of but me. He's safe. We've got him locked up. I can lock you up, too, for the rest of your life, you blackmailer! You do as I say—if you throw me down, by God, you'll do time!"
He released his grip on the withered wrist and the old recluse rose, rubbing the flesh where that clutch had been—
"All right, Jim—I'll do as you say—Don't send me
