"Won't tomorrow do? This may be a false alarm," objected the Squire.
"No, it isn't; an' besides, I've told you some other things you wanted to know."
"But you're in no particular hurry," the old man insisted, the ruling passion of avarice strong upon him.
"Yes, I'm a-needin' it bad. I've got to have some money early tomorrow, an' I couldn't very well be seen followin' you around on court day. You promised to pay when I brought the word."
"Here, then," said the Squire reluctantly unlocking a small drawer in the base of the tall clock and bringing forth a roll of bills wrapped in a piece of newspaper. "Here's a hundred dollars in small bills. Count them over."
"It's two hundred dollars for givin' information that will lead to the arrest of any of the raiders," said the visitor meditatively, after he had carefully counted the money. "Two hundred's the reward."
"Yes, one hundred tonight, which you have now received, and the other when the raiders have been caught. An extra hundred comes out of my own pocket, you understand, when a certain kinsman of mine is safe behind the jail bars. This is good money, easily made."
"Well, I d'no' as it's so easy when you risk your neck to git it, as I've done."
"What gate do you think they will raid next?" asked the Squire.
"I don't know yet, but I'll be posted by tomorrow evenin'. There's another thing, too, I wanted to say to you," added the visitor impressively. "It's concernin' the safety of a particular friend of mine who belongs to the raiders. I must have your promise not to trap him along with the others."