"Yes, sir, I do hear, and so help me God, I'll tell the honest truth if it hangs me!" solemnly exclaimed the prisoner. "You treat me and talk to me like a gentleman, while I have treated you and yours worse than a dog. I shall say nothing but the truth, and if it must be, will swear to it before any court."
"Now I begin to know you again," cried Clay, gladly; "and I tell you that, guilty as you have been, unless you have helped commit one deed—"
"Your father, you mean?" interrupted Sprowl.
"Yes."
"As God hears me, I never raised a hand or a finger against his life. I falsely swore against his honor, I do not deny, but of any thing further, I am innocent."
"Well, go on and eat. I will tell you my terms, although I frankly tell you that were it not for your wife and helpless family, I would demand, not request. Now, however, we will let that pass.
"First, I wish you to tell me the plot against my father; who concocted it, and who were the prominent actors in it. Also their reasons for so doing, so far as you are aware of them.
"Then what you know of myself; who it was that has hunted me from 'pillar to post,' to use your own language? Also what you know about one Meagreson, alias John Dement, his character, crimes, and, in short, every thing.
"I warn you, however, that I am not to be deceived; that I know far more than you have any idea of, so that any attempt of that kind will only injure yourself. Do you fully comprehend me?" queried Poynter.
Sprowl answered by a double nod; his mouth being crammed so full of the juicy deer-steak, that speech was impossible.