“What’s all this here fuss between you and Bob Yancy?” demanded the squire when he had administered the oath to Blount.  Mr. Blount’s statement was brief and very much to the point.  He had been hired by Mr. Bladen, of Fayetteville, to go to Scratch Hill and get the boy who had been temporarily placed in Yancy’s custody at the time of General Quintard’s death.

“Stop just there!” cried the magistrate, leveling a pudgy finger at Blount.  “This here co’t is already cognizant of certain facts bearing on that p’int.  The boy was left with Bob Yancy mainly because nobody else would take him.  Them’s the facts.  Now go on!” he finished sternly.

“I only know what Bladen told me,” said Blount sullenly.

“Well, I reckon Mr. Bladen ought to feel obliged to tell the truth,” said the squire.

“He done give me the order from the judge of the co’t—­I was to show it to Bob Yancy—­”

“Got that order?” demanded the squire sharply.  With a smile, damaged, but clearly a smile, Blount produced the order.  Hmm —­app’inted guardeen of the boy—­” the squire was presently heard to murmur.  The crowded room was very still now, and more than one pair of eyes were turned pityingly in Yancy’s direction.  When the long arm of the law reached out from Fayetteville, where there was a real judge and a real sheriff, it clothed itself with very special terrors.  The boy looked up into Yancy’s face.  That tense silence had struck a chill through his heart.

“It’s all right,” whispered Yancy reassuringly, smiling down upon him.  And Hannibal, comforted, smiled back, and nestled his head against his Uncle Bob’s side.

“Well, Mr. Blount, what did you do with this here order?” asked the squire.

“I went with it to Scratch Hill,” said Blount.

“And showed it to Bob Yancy ?” asked the squire.

“No, he wa’n’t there.  But the boy was, and I took him in my buggy and drove off.  I’d got as far as the Ox Road forks when I met Yancy—­”

“What happened then?—­but a body don’t need to ask!  Looks like the law was all you had on your side!” and the squire glanced waggishly about the room.

“I showed Yancy the order—­”

“You lie, Dave Blount; you didn’t!” said Yancy.  “But I can’t say as it would have made no difference, Squire.  He’d have taken his licking just the same and I’d have had my nevvy out of that buggy!”

“Didn’t he say nothing about this here order from the colt, Bob?”

“There wa’n’t much conversation, Squire.  I invited my nevvy to light down, and then I snaked Dave Blount out over the wheel.”

“Who struck the first blow?”

“He did.  He struck at me with his buggy whip.”

“What you got to say to this, Mr. Blount?” asked the squire.

“I say I showed him the order like I said,” answered Blount doggedly.  Squire Balaam removed his spectacles and leaned back in his chair.