g important made me
come out to-day."

"Nothing wrong, I hope?" asked Mr. Peyton.

George took hold of Watson's left hand, and edged towards the open door.
But Mr. Peyton, not waiting for Jason to answer his question, leaped
forward and barred the way.

"You fellows must not go until Mr. Jason has heard those negro melodies."

Owing to the number of people in the room (for all the children were
there), Jason had not singled out the Northerners for any attention. But
now he naturally looked at them. There was nothing suspicious in his
glance; it was merely good-natured and patronizing.

"Yes, don't go," cried one of the children, a pretty little girl of ten or
eleven. "Show Mr. Jason how the doggie can say his prayers." She hauled
Waggie from George's coat, and held him in front of the farmer. George
seized Waggie and returned him to his pocket. There was an angry flush on
the boy's face. He had no kind feelings for pretty Miss Peyton.

Jason's expression underwent a complete transformation when he saw the
dog. An idea seemed to strike him with an unexpected but irresistible
force. The sight of the dog had changed the whole current of his thoughts.
He stared first at Watson, and then at George, with a frown that grew
deeper and deeper. Then he turned to Mr. Peyton.

"I came over to tell you about the Yankee spies who are loose in the
county," he cried quickly, in excited tones. "One of them was a boy with a
dog. My son saw them--and I believe this to be the lad. I----"

The farmer got no further.

"Come, George!" suddenly shouted Watson.

At the back of the study there was a large glass door leading out to the
rear porch of the house. He ran to this, found that it would not open, and
so deliberately hit some of the panes a great blow with his foot.

Crash! The glass flew here and there in a hundred pieces. The next moment
the ex-blind man had pushed through the ragged edges of the remaining
glass, and was scurrying across a garden at the back of the house. After
him tore George. In going through the door he had cut his cheek on one of
the projecting splinters, but in the excitement he was quite unconscious
of the fact. The children and their father stood looking at Jason in a
dazed, enquiring way. They had not heard of the locomotive chase; they
knew nothing of Northern spies; they did not understand that the farmer
had suddenly jumped at a very correct but startling conclusion.

"After them!" shouted Jason.