“Well,” he says, “you needn’t be afeard no more, becuz they’ve got him. He run off f’m down South, som’ers.”

“It’s a good job they got him.”

“Well, I reckon ! There’s two hunderd dollars reward on him. It’s like picking up money out’n the road.”

“Yes, it is⁠—and I could a had it if I’d been big enough; I see him first . Who nailed him?”

“It was an old fellow⁠—a stranger⁠—and he sold out his chance in him for forty dollars, becuz he’s got to go up the river and can’t wait. Think o’ that, now! You bet I’d wait, if it was seven year.”

“That’s me, every time,” says I. “But maybe his chance ain’t worth no more than that, if he’ll sell it so cheap. Maybe there’s something ain’t straight about it.”