ow felt no hesitancy in confiding
these two women to the care of their operators. The only important
fact fronting us was that we must act quickly, before Kirby and his
aides, armed with legal authority, could return--this very night.

"Pete," I said shortly, my tone unconsciously one of authority, "we
must be out of here before daylight, and safely hidden somewhere up the
river. The first thing to be done, and the hardest, is to explain to
those women the situation, and persuade them to accompany us. They may
not believe my story; that was why I was so anxious to have Haines go
to the house. They would have confidence in him. Do they know you?"

"Lord love yer--ob course dey do. I'se knowed all ob 'em for a long
while, sah. Why when I furst don' see dem Beaucaire gals dey wus just
infants. Dey'll sure believe ol' Pete."

"Well, we can only try our best. Have you any conveyance here?"

"Any whut, sah?"

"Any wheeled vehicle in which we can ride to Beaucaire, and by means of
which we can bring the women back? The distance is too far to walk."

"I'se got a sorter khart, an' an ol' muel, sah. Dey's out yonder in de
bush."

"Hitch them up at once, while I put a few things we may need in the
boat. Show me how to find it."

He pointed out the path, with the directions necessary, and
disappeared, while I returned to the cabin, dragged a blanket from off
the bed, and filled it with whatever miscellaneous articles of food I
was able to discover about the place. My wound, now that I was busily
engaged, troubled me very little, and, gathering the four corners of
the blanket together, I easily transported this stock of provisions to
the river bank, and safely stowed them away in the boat found there. I
returned to discover the mule and cart ready, and a few moments later
we were creaking slowly along a gloomy wood road, jolting over the
stumps, with Pete walking beside the animal's head, whispering
encouragement into the flapping ear. The great adventure had begun.

CHAPTER IX

THE HOME OF JUDGE BEAUCAIRE

The road we followed appeared to be endless, and so rough that I soon
climbed down from my seat, an unplaned board, uncomfortable enough
under any conditions, in the swaying, bumping cart, and stumbled
blindly along behind, tripping over stumps in the darkness, and
wrenching my ankles painfully in deep ruts. Progress was slow, not
only because of the difficulties of the passage, but equally on a