ted. The horse-thief leaped to his feet.

"Neighbor, that means me!" he cried.

The moon was rising now, and by its light the judge saw a number of
horsemen appear on the edge of the woods. They entered the clearing,
picking their way among the stumps without haste or confusion. When
quite close, five of the band dismounted; the rest continued on about
the jail or cantered off toward the road. By this time the judge's teeth
were chattering and he was dripping cold sweat at every pore. He
prayed earnestly that they might hang the horsethief and spare him. The
dismounted men took up a stick of timber that had been cut for the jail
and not used.

"Look out inside, there!" cried a voice, and the log was dashed against
the door; once--twice--it rose and fell on the clapboards, and under
those mighty thuds grew up a wide gap through which the moonlight
streamed splendidly. The horse-thief stepped between the dangling cleats
and vanished. The judge, armed with the stool, stood at bay.

"What next?" a voice asked.

"Get dry brush--these are green logs--we'll burn this jail!"

"Hold on!" the judge recognized the horse-thief as the speaker. "There's
an old party in there! No need to singe him!"

"Friend?"

"No, I tried him."

The judge tossed away the stool. He understood now that these men were
neither lynchers nor regulators. With a confident, not to say jaunty
step, he emerged from the jail.

"Your servant, gentlemen!" he said, lifting his hat.

"Git!" said one of the men briefly, and the judge moved nimbly away
toward the woods. He had gained its shelter when the jail began to glow
redly.

Now to find Solomon and the boy, and then to put the miles between
himself and Pleasantville with all diligence. As he thought this, almost
at his elbow Mahaffy and Hannibal rose from behind a fallen log. The
Yankee motioned for silence and pointed west.

"Yes," breathed the judge. He noted that Mahaffy had a heavy pack, and
the boy his long rifle. For a mile or two they moved forward without
speech, the boy in the lead; while at his heels strode Mahaffy, with the
judge bringing up the rear.

"How do you feel, Price?" asked Mahaffy at length, over his shoulder.

"Like one come into a fortune! Those horse-thieves gave me a fine scare,
but did me a good turn."

Hannibal kept to the woods by a kind of instinct, and the two men
yielded themselves to his guidance; but there was no speech between
them. Mahaffy trod in the boy