He bowed and left us.  When the door had closed behind him Mr. Hacket said: 

“Another victim horned by the Snapdragon!  If a man were to be slain by a bear back in the woods Colonel Hand would look for guilt in the Democratic party.  He will have a busy day and people will receive him as the ghost of Creusa received the embraces of AEneas—­unheeding.  Michael Henry, whatever the truth may be regarding the poor boy in jail, we are in no way responsible.  Away with sadness!  What is that?”

Mr. Hacket inclined his ear and then added:  “Michael Henry says that he may be innocent and that we had better go and see if we can help him.  Now I hadn’t thought o’ that.  Had you, Mary?”

“No,” the girl answered.

“We mustn’t be letting Mike get ahead of us always,” said her father.

The news brought by the Colonel had shocked me and my thoughts had been very busy since his announcement.  I had thought of the book which I had seen Amos reading in the haymow.  Had its contents sunk into his bones?—­for I couldn’t help thinking of all that Mr. Hacket had just said about books and thoughts.  My brain had gone back over the events of that tragic moment—­the fall, the swift dream, the look of the robber in the dim light, the hurling of the stone.  The man who fled was about the size of Amos, but I had never thought of the latter as the guilty man.

“You saw the crime, I believe,” said Mr. Hacket as he turned to me.

I told them all that I knew of it.

“Upon my word, I like you, my brave lad,” said the schoolmaster.  “I heard of all this and decided that you would be a help to Michael Henry and a creditable student.  Come, let us go and pay our compliments to the Senator.  He rises betimes.  If he stayed at the tavern he will be out and up at his house by now.”

The schoolmaster and I went over to Mr. Wright’s house—­a white, frame building which had often been pointed out to me.

Mrs. Wright, a fine-looking lady who met us at the door, said that the Senator had gone over to the mill with his wheelbarrow.

Mr. Hacket asked for the time and she answered: 

“It wants one minute of seven.”

I quote her words to show how early the day began with us back in those times.

“We’ve plenty of time and we’ll wait for him,” said the schoolmaster.

“I see him!” said little John as he and Ruth ran to the gate and down the rough plank walk to meet him.

We saw him coming a little way down the street in his shirt-sleeves with his barrow in front of him.  He stopped and lifted little John in his arms, and after a moment put him down and embraced Ruth.

“Well, I see ye still love the tender embrace o’ the wheelbarrow,” said Mr. Hacket as we approached the Senator.

“My embrace is the tenderer of the two,” the latter laughed with a look at his hands.

He recognized me and seized my two hands and shook them as he said: