he dragged the affrighted little one after him, to the mouth of the
cave, and called:

"Dad, I'm here."

"Come right in," answered a voice.

"I've got her, an' I got her easy as dirt," said the son, pushing the
terrified child into the cave, and then roughly into the arms of his
father.

"Don't yell, yer brat!" said the older, clasping his hand over mouth,
and drawing her brutally toward him. "Shut up, or I'll kill yer."

Foley now called Hildey, who was, asleep in the corner, and said, "Cul,
we've got to git out er this place jest as quick as possible. It's too
near the city, an' if we're tracked here we'll stand no more chance
than a snowball on Beelzebub's gridiron."

"What's yer lay, Dennis?" questioned Hildey.

"Move up the river," was the reply. "I knows jest the place where we
wouldn't be found in a thousand years."

"When d'yer want to start?" asked Tom.

In ten minutes the abductors, with the stolen child, were slowly
winding their way along the deserted beach.

It was now very dark. No stars were shining, and it had become bitterly
cold. Suddenly voices were heard, and the abductors stopped to listen.
They were in a ravine near the magazine landing, not more than fifty
feet from the spot where the Lillian was launched. Foley, Tom, and
Hildey crouched low, and drew the little girl closer.

The steady dip of oars was heard up stream, and the voices grew
plainer. Out of the mingled sounds was heard, "I agrees with Sandy,
he's the dirtiest coward as ever went unhung."

Lillian started, for she recognized the voice of the Jedge, who with
Colonel Franklin, Sandy, Dink, Leander and Gilbert, were returning from
a sail up the river.

Foley became frightened, and bending over, hissed into the child's ear:

"Remember what I tol' yer: if yer utter a sound, I'll kill yer."

The sailing party meantime had reached the landing and stepped ashore.
Sandy and the other three boys lowered the sail, rolled and carried it
into the boat-house. The whole party then, marching three abreast,
with steady step, went up the graveled walk of the old magazine road,
singing in unison:

"Hep--Hep--
Shoot that ni**er if he don't keep step.
Hep--Hep--
Shoot that ni**er if he don't keep step."

While its cadence was continued by Colonel Franklin and the Jedge, the
four boys, in marching rhythm, sang out cheerily into the crisp cold
night:

"When other lips and other hearts,
Their tales of love shall te