er's sneaked," replied Buell.

"How'd he git out?"

With that Bud and Bill began kicking in the piles of brush.

"Aha! Hyar's the place," sang out Bud.

In one corner of the back wall a rotten log had crumbled, and here it
was plain to all eyes that Greaser had slipped out. I remembered that
on this side of the cabin there was quite a thick growth of young
pine. Greaser had been able to conceal himself as he crawled toward the
horses, and had probably been seen at the last moment. Herky-Jerky was
the only one to make comment.

"I ain't wishin' Greaser any hard luck, but hope he carried away a
couple Of 45-90 slugs somewheres in his yaller carcass."

"It'd be worth a lot to the feller who can show me a way out of this
mess," said Buell, mopping the beads of sweat from his face.

I got up--it seemed to me my mind was made up for me--and walked into
the light of the room.

"Buell, I can show you the way," I said, quietly.

"What!" His mouth opened in astonishment. "Speak up, then."

The other men stepped forward, and I felt their eyes upon me.

"Let me go free. Let me out of here to find Dick Leslie! Then when you
go to jail in Holston for stealing lumber I'll say a good word for you
and your men. There won't be any charge of kidnapping or violence."

After a long pause, during which Buell bored me with gimlet eyes, he
said, in a queer voice: "Say thet again."

I repeated it, and added that he could not gain anything now by holding
me a prisoner. I think he saw what I meant, but hated to believe it.

"It's too late," I said, as he hesitated.

"You mean Leslie lied an' you fooled me--you did get to Holston?" he
shouted. He was quivering with rage, and the red flamed in his neck and
face.

"Buell, I did get to Holston and I did send word to Washington," I
went on, hurriedly for I had begun to lose my calmness. "I wrote to
my father. He knows a friend of the Chief Forester who is close to the
Department at Washington. By this time Holston is full of officers of
the forest service. Perhaps they're already at your mill. Anyway, the
game's up, and you'd better let me go."

Buell's face lost all its ruddy color, slowly blanched, and changed
terribly. The boldness fled, leaving it craven, almost ghastly.
Realizing he had more to fear from the law than conviction of his latest
lumber steal, he made at me in blind anger.

"Hold on!" Herky-Jerky yelled, as he jumped between Buell and me.

Buell's breath was a h