It may be a good plan. Who is the farmer?"

"His name is Ezekiel Mason."

"I know where he lives. He is the last man I should suppose would be
capable of such mischief."

"He could have done nothing without the Quaker's help."

"Very well, we will take the farm on the way. Still I don't know that
we shall learn anything beyond what we already know."

Before leaving the cave they disguised themselves as farm workmen. In
this dress they approached the farm-house, but there was something
that diverted them from their original purpose and led them to keep
their distance.

Sitting on the portico was a tall man dressed as a Quaker.

"That's the man!" Said Hugh, quickly. "That's the man who drove up to
the jail last evening with your brother."

James Fox looked at him closely.

"It is best to let sleeping dogs lie," he said. "We will push on to
the jail."

CHAPTER XIX.

A DAY IN THE CAVE.

Meanwhile Ernest was left in the cave with Frank. He had been brought
in blindfolded, and was therefore ignorant as to the entrance or exit.
He thought he might, without arousing the boy's suspicion, seek
information from him on these points.

"Are there many rooms here, Frank?" he asked.

"Oh, a good many," answered the boy.

"Have you been in many?"

"I have been around with papa."

"I should like to go round," said Ernest. "Suppose we take a little
walk."

"I'll go with you. I should be afraid to go alone."

"Does Juba ever go out?"

"Yes; she sometimes goes out to get things."

"Do you know where she goes?"

"No."

"Then you never went with her."

"I went once, but papa does not like to have me go out."

"Let us go about a little."

The boy was quite ready to accept any suggestion from Ernest. So he
took his hand and they went from the main room farther into the
cavern.

Ernest found that only the portion near the entrance had been
furnished. Beyond, there was a large amount of empty space. Here and
there a small light revealed trunks and boxes, arranged without regard
to regularity. These, Ernest conjectured, contained stolen articles
which had accumulated during the years in which the dreaded outlaws
had been a power and a menace in the neighborhood.

It occurred to him that he would like to open some of these boxes, but
the companionship of the boy prevented.

He ventured to ask, however, "What is in those boxes, Frank?"

"I don't know. Something of papa's and Uncle John's."

As they k