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In a very few minutes Ganew was lying in the bottom of his own ox-cart, with his hands securely tied behind him with a bit of his own rope and the Elder was sitting calmly down on a big boulder, wiping his forehead and recovering his breath; it had been an ugly tussle, and the Elder was out of practice.
Now you jest listen to me; I know the whole truth about the matter, an' all the time you spend fightin' off the truth'll be wasted, besides addin' lyin' to havin' been a thief. The owners of the land'll be here, I expect before long; but they've put it all in my hands, an' I can let you off if I choose." "Let me off! What the devil do you mean?" said Ganew.
"Did you think you was goin' to get me out o' yer way's easy's that, 's I dare say ye have better folks than me, before now!" Ganew muttered something in a tongue the Elder did not understand, but the sound of it kindled his wrath anew. "Well, call on your Master, if that's what you're doin', 's much's you like.
Stealin's the least of his crimes, I'll venture." He proceeded still more gently. "The owners of the land which you've been using as your own in this town, have written to inquire about it, and have put the business in my hands." Ganew was silent for a moment. Then trying to speak in an indignant tone, he said, "Using as my own! I don't know what you mean, Mr. Parson.
I have paid my taxes all regular, and I've got the title-deeds of the land, every acre of it. I can't help whoever's been writing to you about it; it's all my land." But his face twitched with nervous excitement, and the fright and anger in his serpent-like black eyes were ugly to see. "No, Mr. Ganew, it is not," said the Elder; "and you know it.
Ganew, if you'll jest walk to the heads o' them oxen I'll thank ye," said he: "an' 's I feel some tired, I'll jump into the cart; an' I'll save ye carryin' the ox-goad," he added, as he climbed slowly in, still holding the murderous weapon in his hand. Nothing could extinguish Seth Kinney's sense of humor.
"Why, you don't suppose there's goin' to be nothin' said about all the thousands o' dollars' wuth of sugar you've carried off here, do" The next thing Elder Kinney knew he was struggling up to his feet in the middle of the road; he was nearly blinded by blood trickling from a cut on his forehead, and only saw dimly that Ganew was aiming another blow at him with his heavy-handled ox-goad.
The Elder went up to him and said, with real kindness of tone, "Mr. Ganew, I expect you can't believe it, but I don't bear ye the least ill-will." A faint flicker of something like grateful surprise passed over the hard face, but no words came. "I hope the Lord'll bring ye to himself yet," persisted the good man, "and forgive me for havin' had anything but pity for ye from the first on't.
His voice sounded hoarse in his own ears as he replied: "Well, Ike, the longest lane has a turnin'. It's my belief that God doesn't often let dishonest people prosper very long. We shall see what becomes of Ganew. Where does he live? I'd like to see him." "Well, he don't live nowhere, 's near's anybody can find out.
"If we meet any folks," he proceeded, "we've only to say that I've had a bad hurt, and that you're very kindly takin' me home." Ganew walked on like a man in a dream. He was nearly paralyzed with terror. They met no human being, and very few words passed between them. When the cart stopped at the Elder's door, Ganew stood still without turning his head.
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