ell me--Jack--"

"That's the worst of it--Bishop--when he found little Jack was dead
he wandered off--"

"When?" almost shouted the old man.

"To-day--this even'. I have sent Eph after him--an' I hope he has
found him by now an' tuck him somewhere. Eph'll never stop till he
does."

"We must find him, Jack. Cap'n Tom alive--thank God--alive, even if
he is teched in his head. Oh, God, I might a knowed it--an' only
to-day I was doubtin' You."

He fell on his knees and Jack stood awed in the presence of the great
emotion which shook the old man.

Finally he arose. "Come--Jack--let us go an' hunt for Cap'n Tom."

But though they hunted until the moon went down they found no trace
of him. For miles they walked, or took turn about in riding the old
blind roan.

"It's no use, Bishop," said Jack. "We will sleep a while and begin
to-morrow. Besides, Eph is with him. I feel it--he'll take keer o'
him."

That is how it came that at midnight, that Saturday night, the old
Bishop brought home a strange man to live in the little cabin in his
yard.

That is how, a week later, all the South was stirred over the
strange return of a fortune to the different corporations from which
it had been taken, accompanied by a drawling note from Jack Bracken
saying he returned ill-gotten gain to live a better life.

It ended laconically:

"_An' maybe you'd better go an' do likewise._"

The dim starlight was shining faintly through the cracks of the
outlaw's future home when the old man showed him in.

"Now, Jack," he said, "it's nearly mornin' an' the old woman may be
wild an' raise sand. But learn to lay low an' shoe hosses. She was
bohn disapp'inted--maybe because she wa'n't a boy," he whispered.

There was a whinny outside, in a small paddock, where a nearby stable
stood: "That's Cap'n Tom's horse," said the old man--"I mus' go see
if he's hungry."

"I've kept his horse these ten years, hopin' maybe he'd come back
agin. It's John Paul Jones--the thoroughbred, that the old General
give him."

"I remember him," said Jack.

The great bloodlike horse came up and rubbed his nose on the old
man's shoulder.

"Hungry, John Paul?"

"It's been a job to get feed fur him, po' as I've
been--but--but--he's Cap'n Tom's. You kno'--"

"An' Cap'n Tom will ride him yet," said Jack.

"Do you believe it, Jack?" asked the old man huskily "God be
praised!"

That Saturday night was one never to be forgotten by others beside
Jack Bracken