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The helpful Zed and his two assistants in the receiving line had careered on around the courthouse and were now out of sight.

The girl looked at Abner, her delicate complexion a high pink.

"They're drunk!" she trembled in a furious voice.

"Yeh. . . ." Regard for the truth made Abner add, "I reckon."

"I think it's uh shame—bumpin' into nice folks. They ort to get a bill against 'em!"

Abner pondered what to say and finally volunteered, "One of em's name is Zed Parrum."

"Oh, well," the girl tossed her head, "I don't want to git it. A girl wouldn't go before the Gran' Jury."

"No-o," admitted Abner emptily, "a girl wouldn't . . .

Here his small talk ran out and left him pondering something else to say. To gain time he repeated, rather ineffectively, "No, she shore wouldn't . . ." and then for several moments his mind was completely blank. The silence between him and the girl widened and deepened until it impinged upon the very confusion of the crowd in the square. It seemed to Abner that everyone in sight must observe that he had ceased talking. He stood groping tensely for words; finally moistened his lips and said in a rush, "Zed told me they was a-gittin' a lot of true bills this court. . . ."

"Don't git any more than they ort," declared the girl bitterly.

Abner looked helplessly at her delicate complexion, her blue eyes and fair hair.

"I never was here before on court day. . . . I live on the pore farm."

At this the unknown opened her eyes wide with the first interest she had exhibited since Abner had made his introductory assault.

"Do you live on the pore farm?"