eps was a threat. He had put out his fire as soon as he
heard the dogs on the other end of the ridge, and for two hours he had
followed the course of the hunt by their barking and the cries of the
men. He guessed it to be what it was,--a 'possum-hunt,--yet suspicion
born of guilt hinted always at such a hunt as an excuse for a raid upon
his still.

On the other hand, the party was coming from the north, and might be
made up of men from Asheville. In that case, since, perhaps, they did
not know the mountain, it was quite possible that they would turn back
before they reached his hiding-place. At any rate, he determined to
stay where he was, and run the risk of detection. If it should prove to
be a raid, he was not averse to exchanging shots with the revenue men.
The thought of it filled him with a fierce joy. Three times they had
destroyed his whole plant, and this time he meant to fight for it.

He took down the boards that filled the cave's mouth, and pulled the
bushes more carefully before it. The dogs would find and reveal him as
quickly with one arrangement as the other, and he had no desire to
undergo a siege shut up in that hole, when he might burst out and
defend himself with some enjoyment.

Screened by his net-work of bushes, he listened keenly to every sound.
A misgiving seized him that Bud had betrayed him, and he cursed him in
a whisper. Yarebrough had told him in the afternoon that his baby was
ill, and that he could not leave Melissa alone with her that night; but
he had confessed at the same time, with his usual lack of reticence,
that the Baron had "been a-talkin'" to him, and Pink suspected that the
baby's illness was a fabrication to excuse his non-appearance at the
still, and possibly his treachery. Pressley's judgment of his partner's
honor was based on his own, and he felt in his pocket to make sure of
the safety there of a letter whose crackle sounded pleasantly in his
ears.

"'Twon' do to give him too much rope," he muttered.

Nearer came the soft scampering of dogs and the trampling of men, and
the torches' glow warming the unlighted forest. Pressley hoped that
they might pass along the mountain's side below him, or on top of the
ledge that roofed his cavern, but there always was danger from the
dogs. Even as he thought it, one padded along the shelf of rock that
lay like a step before his door, and stopped short with a growl. He was
so near that Pink struck him with the butt of his revolver