"We wanted to speak to you alone, Jason," said Mr. Rimmon, "in regard to your feelings toward the boy here. You have seemed to be his friend in times past."
"So I have, John; so I have," declared Mr. Warfield; "and I was never more his friend than now."
"That is what I thought. So these rumors of your withdrawal from his bail are false? You are willing to stand by him longer, supposing we could get some such a person as James Renders, of Greenbrier, to stand in with you?"
"I—well—ahem—do you suppose Renders will? I hardly think it."
"Will you? I wish to know that before I speak to him or any one else. So many stories are afloat that we don't know what to believe."
"I think you can remain there," replied the other, ignoring the question asked. "As far as I know there is nothing against it in the law."
"Still, there is a doubt there, and until that is cleared away I am of no good to the boy, though I am willing to do anything I can. But before I can do anything, I must know just what you are willing to do. I ask that you remain on his bail as a personal favor to me as well as to the boy. Remember, you have never asked me for a favor in vain."
To the surprise of his companions, Mr. Warfield seemed laboring under some great mental strain. The perspiration stood out in beads all over his face, while he trembled and moved uneasily.
"I—the truth is, John, I wish I could grant you this favor. I don't think the boy unworthy of all the assistance I could give him; but the truth is, John, unavoidable circumstances over which I have no control make it impossible——"
"Ain't you 'bout through there?" broke in Sheriff Brady's voice. "The judge is getting anxious that I do my duty."