"Well, I am going out into the Spring Hill neighborhood and appeal to the boys—the White Caps. Then, some fine night, a party, all dressed in white head-gear, will call on Mr. Lyman. They will put him on a horse, take him out to the woods, take off his shirt, tie him across a log and give him fifty lashes as a starter. Then, when they untie him, they'll remark that if he is not gone within three days they will give him a hundred. See the point?"
"Zeb, he deserves it, but I'm afraid that course won't do."
"Not weakening, are you?"
"Weakening? Who ever knew me to weaken? I say he deserves it."
"But you say it won't do."
"And I'm afraid it won't. It would create a terrible scandal."
"It's done every week, in some part of the country. Even the most law-abiding citizens acknowledge that it is a good thing."
"It might do in the country, severe as it is, but it would be different in town. The law would interfere, and that would be disgraceful."
"But the law will not interfere. I can fix the town marshal, and as for the sheriff—he owes me for a span of mules. I have worked it all out. In the evening I'll go around to Uncle Jasper's with a bottle of old Bourbon. I'll tell him that I am celebrating my birthday or something. Once in a while he takes to the bottle, and the old liquor will tempt him. Well, when he's in good condition, I'll put him to bed and shortly afterwards the boys will come for brother Lyman. In the meantime I will see that there are no guns in the way. The women will be scared, of course, but they'll soon get over it. Isn't that a plan worthy of a county surveyor?"
"The plan's all right, Zeb, but I'm afraid of it's execution. Supposing my name should become involved. It would ruin me."