ng my notice; but better late than never;
for me, though perhaps not for themselves," he added with a grim smile.
"Well, my preparations won't take long: dress-suit's all ready."

He kept on his way at the old leisurely pace, presently came in sight of
Fairview, passed it, then Ion, diligently using his eyes as he went,
made a circuit of several miles and returned to the town which he had
left some hours previously.

Dismounting at the village tavern, he gave his horse into the care of
the hostler, and joined a group of idlers about the bar-room door. They
were talking politics and one appealed to him for his opinion.

"Don't ask me," he said with a deprecatory gesture! "I'm no party man
and never meddle with politics."

"On the fence, hey? Just the place for a coward and a sneak," returned
his interlocutor contemptuously.

The other half drew his bowie knife, then thrusting it back again, said
good-humoredly, "I'll let that pass, Green; you've taken a drop too
much and are not quite compos mentis just now."

"Be quiet, will you, Green;" spoke up one of his companions, "you know
well enough Snell's no coward. Why didn't he risk his life the other
day, to save your boy from drowning?"

"Yes; I'd forgot. I take that back, Snell. Will you have a glass?"

"Thank you, no, it's too hot, and your wife and babies need the money,
Green."

The words were half drowned in the clang of the dinner bell, and the
group scattered, Snell, and most of the others hurrying into the
dining-room in answer to the welcome call.

After dinner Snell sauntered out in the direction of the stable, passed
with a seemingly careless glance in at the door, and strolled onward;
but in that momentary glimpse had noted the exact position of his horse.

About ten o'clock that night he stole quietly out again, made his way
unobserved to the stable, saddled and bridled his steed, all in the
dark, mounted and rode away, passing through the village streets at a
very moderate pace, but breaking into a round trot as soon as he had
fairly reached the open country.

He pressed on for several miles, but slackened his speed as he neared
the forest known as Miller's Woods.

For the last mile or more he had heard, both in front and rear, the
thumping of horses' hoofs, and occasionally a word or two spoken in an
undertone, by gruff voices.

He was anxious to avoid an encounter with their owners, and on reaching
the outskirts of the wood, suddenly left t