Freckles went into
the night. He rode toward the Limberlost with his eyes on the stars.
Presently he removed his hat, hung it to his belt, and ruffled his
hair to the sweep of the night wind. He filled the air all the way with
snatches of oratorios, gospel hymns, and dialect and coon songs, in a
startlingly varied programme. The one thing Freckles knew that he could
do was to sing. The Duncans heard him coming a mile up the corduroy and
could not believe their senses. Freckles unfastened the box from
his belt, and gave Mrs. Duncan and the children all the eatables
it contained, except one big piece of cake that he carried to the
sweet-loving Duncan. He put the flowers back in the box and set it among
his books. He did not say anything, but they understood it was not to be
touched.

"Thae's Freckles' flow'rs," said a tiny Scotsman, "but," he added
cheerfully, "it's oor sweeties!"

Freckles' face slowly flushed as he took Duncan's cake and started
toward the swamp. While Duncan ate, Freckles told him something about
the evening, as well as he could find words to express himself, and the
big man was so amazed he kept forgetting the treat in his hands.

Then Freckles mounted his wheel and began a spin that terminated only
when the biggest Plymouth Rock in Duncan's coop saluted a new day, and
long lines of light reddened the east. As he rode he sang, while he
sang he worshiped, but the god he tried to glorify was a dim and faraway
mystery. The Angel was warm flesh and blood.

Every time he passed the little bark-covered imprint on the trail he
dismounted, removed his hat, solemnly knelt and laid his lips on the
impression. Because he kept no account himself, only the laughing-faced
old man of the moon knew how often it happened; and as from the
beginning, to the follies of earth that gentleman has ever been kind.

With the near approach of dawn Freckles tuned his last note. Wearied
almost to falling, he turned from the trail into the path leading to the
cabin for a few hours' rest.

CHAPTER XII

Wherein Black Jack Captures Freckles and the Angel Captures Jack

As Freckles left the trail, from the swale close the south entrance,
four large muscular men arose and swiftly and carefully entered the
swamp by the wagon road. Two of them carried a big saw, the third, coils
of rope and wire, and all of them were heavily armed. They left one man
on guard at the entrance. The other three made their way through the
darkn