“For stealing this horse,” the functionary replied, laying his hand on the horse's mane, “and concealing him in the timber with the intention to run him off.”
“It's Elwood's horse, isn't it?”
“Yes,” answered Driscol, somewhat surprised at Grayson's coolness.
“When was he stolen?” asked the notified.
“Last night,” answered the official; “I suppose you know very well without being told.”
“Do you, indeed?” said Grayson, smiling absently. And then he bent his eyes upon the ground, and seemed lost in thought for some minutes.
“Well, well,” said he at length, raising his eyes again. “I didn't steal the horse, Driscol, but I suppose you regulators know best who ought to be allowed to remain in the settlement, so of course I shall have to obey.”
“I am glad to find you so reasonable,” said Driscol, making a movement to ride away.
“Stop! stop!” said Grayson: “don't be in a hurry! I shall be gone before the ten days are up, and you and I may not meet again for a long time, so get down and come in: let us take a parting drink together. I have some excellent whiskey, just brought home.”
Now, the worthy functionary, as we have intimated, or as the aforesaid nose bore witness, was “quite partial” to this description of produce: some of his acquaintances even insinuating that he took sometimes “a drop too much;” and though he felt some misgiving about remaining in Grayson's company longer than his official duties required, the temptation was too strong for him, and, silencing his fears, he sprang to the ground.