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Rh matter with you, Jud?" And he fastened his keen glance on the boy.

Vaguely, from the corner of his eye, he felt that Pop had taken the pipe from his mouth. There was a sort of breathless touch in the air of the room.

"Nothin'," said Jud. "Only—you know the rungs of that ladder ain't fit to be walked on, grandad!"

"Jud," said the old man with a strained tone, "It ain't my business to give warnin's to an officer of the law—not mine. He'll find out little things like that for himself."

For one moment Dozier remained looking from one face to the other. He would have given a great deal if he could have made the child meet his glance at that moment, but the boy was looking steadily at his grandfather. Then he shrugged his shoulders and went slowly up the ladder. It squeaked under his weight, he felt the rungs bow and tremble. Halfway up he turned suddenly, but Pop was sitting as old men will, humming a tune and keeping time to it by patting the bowl of his pipe with a forefinger.

And Dozier made up his mind.

He turned and came down the ladder. "I guess there's no use looking in the attic," he said. "Same as any other attic, I suppose, Pop?"

"The same?" asked Pop, taking the pipe from his mouth. "I should tell a man it ain't. It's my work, that attic is, and it's different. But seein' it's you, Dozier, I'll let you copy it. Better go up and see how it's done. I handled the joinin' of them joists pretty slick, but you better go and see for yourself."

And he smiled at the deputy from under his bushy brows. Hal Dozier grinned broadly back at him.

"I've seen your work in the cellar, Pop," he said.