recisely opposite to that of an
order calculated to delay the major's march, as Mr. Jennifer could see
if he would read it.

While Sevier was talking, the old borderer was fumbling in the breast of
his hunting-shirt, and now he produced a packet of papers tied about
with red tape.

"'Pears to me like you Injun-killers from t'other side o' the mounting
is in a mighty hot sweat to hang somebody," he said, as coolly as if he
were addressing a mob of underlings. "Here's a mess o' billy-doos with
Lord Cornwallis's name to 'em that I found 'mongst Major Ferguson's
leavings. If you'll look 'em over, maybe you'll find out, immejitly _if_
not sooner, that Cap'n John here is telling ye the plumb truth."

The papers were examined hastily, and presently John Sevier lighted upon
the despatch I had carried and delivered. Thereat the colonels put their
heads together; and then my case was re-opened, with Sevier as
spokesman.

"We have a letter here which appears to be the original order to
Ferguson, Captain Ireton. Can you repeat from memory the _postscriptum_
which you say was added to it?"

I gave the gist of my old patriarch's addendum as well as I could; and
thereupon suspicion fled away and my late judges would vie with one
another in hearty frontier hand-grasps and apologies, whilst the throng
that ringed us in forgot caution and weariness and gave me a cheer to
wake the echoes.

'Twas while this burst of gratulation was abuzz that Ephraim Yeates
raised a cry of his own.

"Stop that there black-legged imp o' the law!" he shouted, pushing his
way out of the circle. "He's the one that ought to hang!"

There was a rush for the wagon barricade, a clatter of horse-hoofs on
the hillside below, and Yeates's rifle went to his face. But the bullet
flew wide, and the black-garbed figure clinging to the horse's mane was
soon out of sight among the trees.

"Ez I allow, ye'd better look out for that yaller-skinned little
varmint, Cap'n John," quoth the old man, carefully wiping his rifle
preparatory to reloading it. "He's rank pizen, he is, and ye'll have to
break his neck sooner 'r later. I 'lowed to save ye the trouble, but old
Bess got mighty foul yestiddy, with all the shootings and goings on, and
I hain't got no lead-brush to clean her out."

Now that I was fully exonerated I was free to go and come as I chose;
nay, more, I was urged to cast in my lot with the over-mountain
partizans. As to this, I took counsel with Richard