"That's jest it. They knew enough to keep on the right side of them
people, you see, an' they did their poachin' in our woods. Any time
they've been around it's always meant more work for us, and hard work,
too."

"Well, I should think that after this experience the people at the
hotel would see that the gypsies aren't very good neighbors, after all."

"That's what we're counting on, ma'am. Seems to me, from what I just
happened to pick up, that there was some special reason, like, for this
varmint to have acted that way today, or last night, maybe it was. Some
feller in the city as was back of him."

"There was, Andrew, I'm afraid; a man who ought to know better, and whom
you wouldn't suspect of allowing such a dreadful thing to be done."

Andrew shook his head wisely.

"It's hard to know what to wish," she said. "Sometimes a man is much
worse when he comes out of prison than he was when he went in. It seems
just to harden them, and make it impossible for them to get started on
the right road again."

"It's their fault for going wrong in the fust place," said the old
guide, sternly. "That's what I say. I don't take any stock in these new
fangled notions of makin' the jail pleasant for them as does wrong.
Make 'em know they're goin' to have a hard time, an' they'll be lest
willin' to take chances of goin' wrong and bein' caught with the goods,
like this feller here today. I bet you when he gets out of jail he'll be
so scared of gettin' back that he'll be pretty nearly as good as a white