rrington made his way to the shed.
Hidden in the shadow he paused to listen, and fancied he heard difficult
breathing from within. The door creaked hideously on its wooden hinges
when he pushed it open, but as it swung back the last remnant of the
day's light showed him some dark object lying prone on the dirt floor.
He reached down and his hand rested on a man's booted foot.

"George--" Carrington spoke softly, but the man on the floor gave no
sign that he heard, and Carrington's questioning touch stealing higher
he found that George--if it were George--was lying on his side with his
arms and legs securely bound. Thinking he slept, the Kentuckian shook
him gently to arouse him.

"George?" he repeated, still bending above him. This time an
inarticulate murmur answered him. At the same instant the woolly head
of the negro came under his fingers and he discovered the reason of his
silence. He was as securely gagged as he was bound.

"Listen, George--it's Carrington--I am going to take off this gag, but
don't speak above a whisper--they may hear us!" And he cut the cords
that held the gag in place.

"How yo' get here, Mas'r Ca'ington?" asked the negro guardedly, as the
gag fell away.

"Around the head of the bayou."

"Lawd!" exclaimed George, in a tone of wonder.

"Where's Miss Betty?"

"She's in the cabin yonder--fo' the love of God, cut these here
other ropes with yo' knife, Mas'r Ca'ington--I'm perishin' with 'em!"
Carrington did as he asked, and groaning, George sat erect. "I'm like I
was gone to sleep all over," he said.

"You'll feel better in a moment. Tell me about Miss Malroy?"

"They done fetched us here last night. I was drivin' Missy into
Raleigh--her and young Mas'r Hazard--when fo' men stop us in the road."

"Who were they, do you know?" asked Carrington.

"Lawd--what's that?"

Carrington, knife in hand swung about on his heel. A lantern's light
flashed suddenly in his face and Bess Hicks, with a low startled cry
breaking from her lips, paused in the doorway. Springing forward,
Carrington seized her by the wrist.

"Hush!" he grimly warned.

"What are you doin' here?" demanded the girl, as she endeavored to shake
off his hand, but Carrington drew her into the shed, and closing the
door, set his back against it. There was a brief silence during which
Bess regarded the Kentuckian with a kind of stolid fearlessness. She was
the first to speak. "I reckon you-all have come after Miss Malroy," she