“‘How did you know that?’ said he; ‘What do you know about the business?’
“Well, to make a long story short, after talking to him a good while, I found that Isaac Naylor had held a judgment against Moor (for how much I don’t know), and was about to put the sheriff on him. The judgment was to be lodged in the sheriff’s hands the very day that Isaac was killed. What do you think of that, Tom?”
There was silence for some time; Tom’s heart was thumping against his ribs so that he could hardly breathe. However, he spoke as quietly as he could. “I fancied that there must be something of the kind,” said he.
Will eyed him for a moment or two, “You seem to take it monstrously cool,” said he, at last.
Tom made no answer to this speech; after a while he asked Will when he was going to send for the man Daly, of whom he had spoken the day before.
“I have sent for him,” said Will. “I wrote a note to Mr. Fargio yesterday, and urged haste in it. I shouldn’t be surprised if Daly would be here in to-morrow’s stage.”
Daly did come in the stage the next afternoon. It was about five o’clock when the turnkey brought a man to Tom’s cell whom he had never seen before. “Mr. Gaines told me to bring you this letter,” said the man, handing Tom a note as he spoke; then Tom knew that it was Daly.
“Can’t you leave us a little while?” said Tom to the turnkey.
Will’s note ran thus:
“Dear Tom: