must trust you-uns."

"She saved us from certain death last night, and she brought us here to
hide till she can help us get out of this part of the country."

Rufe Kenyon looked puzzled.

"I judge you-uns is givin' it ter me straight," he said, slowly; "but I
don't jes' understan'. What did she save yer from?"

"Moonshiners."

The man seemed filled with sudden suspicion.

"What had moonshiners agin' you-uns? Be you revernues?"

"No. Do we look like revenue spies?"

"Yer look too young."

"Well, we are not spies; but we were unfortunate enough to incur the
enmity of Wade Miller, and he has sworn to end our lives."

"Wade Miller!" cried Rufe, showing his teeth in an ugly manner. "An' I
s'pose he's hangin' 'roun' Kate, same as he uster?"

"He is giving her more or less trouble."

"Wal, he won't give her much trouble arter I git at him. He is a snake!
Look har! I'm goin' ter tell you-uns somethin'. Miller allus pretended
ter be my friend, but it war that critter as put ther revernues onter me
an' got me arrested! He done it because I tol' him Kate war too good fer
him. I know it, an' one thing why I wanted ter git free war ter come har
an' fix ther critter so he won't ever bother Kate no more. I hev swore
ter fix him, an' I'll do it ef I live ter meet him face ter face!"

He had grown wildly excited, and he sat up, with his back against a
post, his eyes gleaming redly, and a white foam flecking his lips. At
that moment he reminded the boys of a mad dog.

Woe to Wade Miller when they met!

When Kenyon was calmer, Frank told the story of the adventures which had
befallen the boys since entering Lost Creek Valley. The fugitive
listened quietly, watching them closely with his sunken eyes, and,
having heard all, said:

"I judge you-uns tells ther truth. Ef I kin keep hid till Kate gits
har--till I see her--I'll fix things so you won't be bothered much. Wade
Miller's day in Lost Creek Valley is over."

The boys took him up to the living room of the old mill, where they
furnished him with the coarse food that remained from their breakfast.
He ate like a famished thing, washing the dry bread down with great
swallows of water. When he had finished and his hunger was satisfied, he
was quite like another man.

"Thar!" he cried; "now I am reddy fer anything! But I do need sleep."

"Take it," advised Frank. "We will watch."

"And you'll tell me ef thar's danger?"

"You may depend on it."

"You-uns will watch