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“They went round then a-sayin’ they’d get even, though wife and I ‘lowed we’d take anything reasonable for what hurt they done us. And that went on till one day ’bout a year ago Luke come into my place and said he and Lawyer Fillmore would he over the next day; that they was tired o’ fightin’, and that if I was willin’ to settle they was.

“One o’ the new Gov’ment dep’ties was sittin’ in my room at the time. He was goin’ ‘long up to town-court, he said, and had jest drapped in to pass the time o’ day. There he is sittin’ over there,” and he pointed to his captor.

“I hadn’t never seen him before, though I know a good many of ’em, but he showed me his badge, and I knowed who he was.

“The nex’ mornin’ Lawyer Fillmore and Luke stopped outside and hollered for me to come out. I wanted ’em to come in. Wife had baked some biscuit and we was determined to be sociable-like, now that they was willin’ to do what was fair, and I ‘lowed they must drive up and git out. They said that that’s what they come for, only that they had to go a piece down the road, and they’d be back agin in a half-hour with the money.

“Then Luke Shanders ‘lowed he was cold, and asked if I had a drap o’ whiskey.”

At mention of the all-important word a visible stir took place in the court-room. The young man with the closed eyes opened them and sat up in his chair. The jury ceased whispering to one another; the Judge pushed his spectacles back on his forehead and moved his papers aside; the buzzard stretched his long neck an inch farther out of his shirt-collar and lowered his head in attention. The spigot, which up to this time had run only “emptyings,” was now giving out the clear juice of the wine-vat. Each man bent his tin cup of an ear to catch it. The old man noticed the movement and looked about him anxiously, as if dreading another rebuff. He started to speak, cleared his throat, pulled nervously at his beard for a moment, glancing furtively about the room, and in a lower tone repeated the words:

“Asked if I had a drap o’ whiskey. Well, I always take a dram when I want it, and I had some prime stuff my son Ned had sent me over from Frankfort, so I went hack and poured out ’bout four fingers in a glass, and took it out to him.

“After he drunk it he handed me back the glass and driv off, sayin’ he’d be round later. I took the glass into the house agin and sot it ‘longside the bottle on the mantel, and when I turned round there sot the Gov’ment dep’ty. He’d come in, wife said, while I was talkin’ with Luke in the road. When he see the glass he asked if I had a license, and I told him I didn’t sell no liquor, and he asked me what that was, and I told him it was whiskey, and then he got the bottle and took a smell of it, and then he held up the glass and turned it upside down and out drapped a ten-cent piece. Then he ‘rested me!”

The jury was all attention now; the several exhibits were coming into view. One fat, red-faced juror, who had a dyed mustache and looked like a sporting man, would have laughed outright had not the Judge checked him with a stern look.

“You didn’t put the dime there, did you?” the young attorney asked, in a tone that implied a negative answer.

“No, sir; I don’t take no money for what I give a man.” This came with a slight touch of indignation.

“Do you know who put it there?”

“Well, there warn’t nobody but Luke Shanders could ‘a’ done it, ’cause nobody had the glass but him. I heard since that it was all a put-up job, that they had swore I kep’ a roadside, and they had sot the dep’ty onto me; but I don’t like to think men kin be so mean, and I ain’t a-sayin’ it now. If they knew what I’ve suffered for what they done to me, they couldn’t help but feel sorry for me if they’re human.”