"I just called by to see if you had heard any news," remarked Silas, taking no offence at the sarcastic utterances of the two men. "I am just obliged to get some news. I am on pins: I can't sleep at night; and my appetite is gone."
Mr. Sanders looked at the man's haggard face, and immediately became serious and sympathetic. "Well, I tell you, Silas, you needn't worry another minnit. The only one amongst 'em that's in real trouble is Gabriel Tolliver. I've looked into the case from A to Izzard, an' that's the way it stan's."
"That is perfectly true," assented Mr. Tidwell. "We can account for the movements of all the boys on the night of the killing except those of Tolliver; and he is in considerable danger. By the way, Silas, you said some time ago—oh, ever so long ago—that you would bring me a copy of Blackwood's Magazine. You remember there was a story in it you wanted me to read."
"No, I—well, I tried to find it; I hunted for it high and low; but I haven't been able to put my hands on it. But I've had so much trouble of one kind and another, that I clean forgot it. I'm glad you mentioned it; I'll try to find it again."
"Well, as a lawyer," said Mr. Tidwell, somewhat significantly—or so it seemed to Silas—"I don't charge you a cent for telling you that your case wouldn't stand a minnit."
"My case—my case! What case? I have no case. Why, I don't know what you are talking about." He shook his head and waved his hand nervously.
"Oh, I remember now; your case was purely hypothetical," said Mr. Tidwell. "Well, your Blackwood was wrong about it."
"That's what I thought," Silas assented with a grunt; and with that, he turned abruptly away, and went in the direction of his house.
"I'll tell you what's the fact," remarked Mr. Sanders, as he watched the shabby and shrunken figure retreat; "I'm about to change my mind about Silas. I used to think he was mean all through; but he's got a nice warm place in his heart for that son of his'n. I declare I feel right sorry for the man."
Before Cephas went away, he was not too busy learning the lessons Mr. Sanders had set for him to forget to hunt up Nan Dorrington and tell her the wonderful news; to-wit, that he was about to go on a journey, and that while he was gone he would most likely see Gabriel.