als. So close on the assassin's shots that they were
hardly distinguishable came the cracks of our own guns, and without
giving the concealed riflemen time to shift positions our men charged
into the ambush.

Our policy was no longer one of retreat, but of attack. I saw a tall
youth plough his way through the thicket toward a clump of cedar which
had just belched fire, and having to do something, I followed at his
heels. The silence had given way now to the ripping of bushes and the
kicking up of dead leaves, and twice off at my side I heard the
pop-popping of rifles. I, following my guide, was crouching and slipping
from tree trunk to laurel bush and from laurel bush to boulder. Suddenly
a spurt of flame and a report burst out in our faces, and the song of a
bullet passing near made me duck my head. Then the man with me fired and
there was a groan from the front and the crash of a body falling into a
bush.

Afterward (I suppose in a very few minutes) quiet settled again, except
for the treading of our men as they searched the timber. The assailants
were clearly driven off. My companion even ventured to bend down as we
returned and strike a match over the fallen body in the brush. As it
flared up, I recognized with a shock, the thin, saddened face of the
sockless man who had accosted us in the road, and whom our driver had
called Rat-Ankle. He now lay doubled in a shapeless heap, and dead.

We already knew that the casualties had not been one-sided, and as my
companion and I regained the road among the first we saw that some one
still lay there, his horse standing quietly over him. A glance told me
that it was Weighborne. His bulky size even in that crumpled attitude
unmistakably proclaimed him. As we bent over him, we found that he was
unconscious but breathing, and we hoisted him up to an empty saddle,
where we held him as we made the trip to the house.

CHAPTER XX

A CAVALCADE FROM THE LAUREL.

I have since searchingly asked myself whether, at that time, any mean
thought entered my mind as to the possibilities which might open for me
if Weighborne died. I set it down in justification, though it may rather
be attributable to the excitement of the moment than to inherent
guilelessness, that that phase of the matter did not occur to me. Had I
entertained such speculations they must have been short lived, for when
we arrived at the cabin and made an examination, and when later by
relayed telephone messages