The judge winced at this.

“You have made a regrettable choice of words, Solomon,” he urged gently.

“Where’s your feeling for the boy?”

“Here!” said the judge, with an eloquent gesture, resting his hand on his heart.

“If you let whisky alone, I’ll believe you, otherwise what I have said must stand.”

The door opened, and the sheriff slouched into the room.  He was chewing a long wheat straw, and his whole appearance was one of troubled weakness.

“Morning,” he said briefly.

“Sit down, Sheriff,” and the judge indicated a meek seat for the official in a distant corner.  “Have you learned anything?” he asked.

The sheriff shook his head.

“What you turning all these neighbors out of doors for?” he questioned.

“We don’t want people tracking in and out the house, Sheriff.  Important evidence may be destroyed.  I propose examining the slaves first—­does that meet with your approval?”

“Oh, I’ve talked with them, they don’t know nothing,” said the sheriff.  “No one don’t know nothing.”

“Please God, we may yet put our fingers on some villain who does,” said the judge.

Outside it was noised about that judge Price had taken matters in hand—­he was the old fellow who had been warned to keep his mouth shut, and who had never stopped talking since.  A crowd collected beyond the library windows and feasted its eyes on the back of this hero’s bald head.

One by one the house servants were ushered into the judge’s presence.  First he interrogated little Steve, who had gone to Miss Betty’s door that morning to rouse her, as was his custom.  Next he examined Betty’s maid; then the cook, and various house servants, who had nothing especial to tell, but told it at considerable. length; and lastly big Steve.

“Stop a bit,” the judge suddenly interrupted the butler in the midst of his narrative.  “Does the overseer always come up to the house the first thing in the morning?”

“Why, not exactly, Sah, but he come up this mo’ning, Sah.  He was talking to me at the back of the house, when the women run out with the word that Missy was done gone away.”

“He joined in the search?”

“Yes, Sah.’’

“When was Miss Malroy seen last?” asked the judge.

“She and the young gemman you fotched heah were seen in the gyarden along about sundown.  I seen them myself.”

“They had had supper?”

“Yes, Sah.”

“Who sleeps here?”

“Just little Steve and three of the women, they sleeps at the back of the house, Sah.’’

“No sounds were heard during the night?”

“No, Sah.”

“I’ll see the overseer—­what’s his name?—­Hicks?  Suppose you go for him!” said the judge, addressing the sheriff.

The sheriff was gone from the room only a few moments, and returned with the information that Hicks was down at the bayou, which was to be dragged.