th his own eyes he had seen it--Murrell--whom he
believed without fear! He felt that he had been grievously betrayed in
his trust and a hot rage poured through him. At last he climbed into the
saddle, and swaying like a drunken man, galloped off.

When he reached the river road he paused and scanned its dusty surface.
Hues and his party had turned south when they issued from the wood path.
No doubt Murrell was being taken to Memphis. Ware laughed harshly. The
outlaw would be free before another dawn broke.

He had halted near where Jim had turned his team the previous night
after Betty and Hannibal had left the carriage; the marks of the wheels
were as plainly distinguishable as the more recent trail left by the
four men, and as he grasped the significance of that wide half circle
his sense of injury overwhelmed him again. He hoped to live to see
Murrell hanged!

He was so completely lost in his bitter reflections that he had been
unaware of a mounted man who was coming toward him at a swift gallop,
but now he heard the steady pounding of hoofs and, startled by the
sound, looked up. A moment later the horseman drew rein at his side.

"Ware!" he cried.

"How are you, Carrington?" said the planter.

"You are wanted at Belle Plain," began Carrington, and seemed to
hesitate.

"Yes--yes, I am going there at once--now--" stammered Ware, and gathered
up his reins with a shaking hand.

"You've heard, I take it?" said Carrington slowly.

"Yes," answered Ware, in a hoarse whisper. "My God, Carrington, I'm
heart sick; she has been like a daughter to me!" he fell silent mopping
his face.

"I think I understand your feeling," said Carrington, giving him a level
glance.

"Then you'll excuse me," and the planter clapped spurs to his horse.
Once he looked back over his shoulder; he saw that Carrington had not
moved from the spot where they had met.

At Belle Plain, Ware found his neighbors in possession of the place.
They greeted him quietly and spoke in subdued tones of their sympathy.
The planter listened with an air of such abject misery that those who
had neither liked nor respected him, were roused to a sudden generous
feeling where he was concerned, they could not question but that he was
deeply affected. After all the man might have a side to his nature with
which they had never come in contact.

When he could he shut himself in his room. He had experienced a day of
maddening anxiety, he had not slept at all the