"Give him the tar and feathers," said a strange voice.
"Not if he will confess an' seek forgiveness," another answered.
"Down to your knees, man, an' make no outcry, an' see you repeat the words carefully, as I speak them, or you go home in tar and feathers."
They could hear the sound of a scuffle, and, shortly, the phrases of a prayer spoken by one voice and repeated by another.
They were far back in the gloom, but could hear each word of that which follows: "O God, forgive me—I am a liar and a hypocrite—I have the tongue of scandal and deceit—I have robbed the poor—I have defamed the good—and, Lord, I am sick—with the rottenness of my own heart. And hereafter—I will cheat no more—and speak no evil of any one—Amen."
"Now, go to your home, Riley Brooke," said the voice, "an' hereafter mind your tongue, or you shall ride a rail in tar and feathers."
They could see the crowd scatter, and some passed near them, running away in the darkness.
"Stoop there an' say not a word," the tinker whispered, crouching in the grass.
When all were out of hearing, they started for the little shop.
"Hereafter," said Darrel, as they walked along, "God send he be more careful with the happiness of other men. I do assure thee, boy, it is bitter, bitter, bitter."