"The way I rubbed Rackshaw, Ikey Dimock an' Joe Preston, eh?" Abner asked.
"That's what I mean. It makes the sparks fly, an' soon there's a big fire which is hard to put out."
"What de ye expect me to do, then?"
"Rub people the other way, fer instance, and see how it'll work."
"Ho, ho," and Abner laughed outright. "Imagine me rubbin' Ikey Dimock an' Rackshaw, an' pattin' 'em on the back an' callin' 'em 'me dear friends.' No, I guess I'm too old a bird fer that. Never had the trainin', ye see. Anyway, it's no use now; it's too late. Everybody's dead set aginst me, an' is tryin' to do me."
"Everybody is not, Abner. I'm not, anyway, or else I wouldn't have taken all the trouble to walk to town to git ye out of jail."
"Sure, sure, I know you'd stand by me, Zeb. But, say, how did ye do it?"
"Do what?"
"Git me out of jail, of course."
"Oh, bailed ye out, that was all."