o' whar she
lived, and the skunk went in and told how he'd seen somebody skulkin'
off, and, of course, they knowed then. They made it hot 'nough for
me. I been layin' for him ever since; I was watchin' him through the
winder when I see him hunt for this powder. Folks don't keep stuff
like that whar he kep' it 'less it's sumpin perticler. Somebody'll
find him in the woods some time with a hole in him."

Holcomb laid the powder on the table. What he suspected he dared not
formulate into words, let alone tell the hide-out.

"I ain't never forgot ye, Billy, for what ye've done for me,"
continued the hide-out with a choke in his feeble voice. Then,
starting to his feet, the old fear returning, he whispered hoarsely:

"'Tain't safe here for me; I dasn't stay longer."

"Bob," said Holcomb, "you're safe here until daylight; there's my
bed."

"No! No! I dassent, Billy."

"But you're wet to the skin," insisted Holcomb.

"So be everything when it rains. I'm wet most of the time. Now I'm
a-goin', and a-goin' quick. That's what I come to give ye," and he
nodded to the crumpled bit of paper and its contents lying under the
lamp's glow.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Bob, down below? I saw Katie last
time I drove in."

A hungry eager look stole into the man's face; tears started in his
eyes and lost themselves in his matted, unkempt beard.

"Ye see Katie, Billy?" he moaned. "God--how I'd like to! Growing,
ain't she? Most 'leven now. Some weeks back since I dared go down.
Last time I see her she cried and went on so holdin' on to me I come
near givin' myself up I felt so bad; then I knowed that wouldn't git
nowhars."

"No, Bob, better keep moving. I'm going to speak to Mr. Thayor when
the time comes--but it isn't yet. Hold on--here's matches and what's
left in the cupboard." Taking two of his own shirts and a pair of
his woollen trousers, he wrapped up the food and a little cheer; then
blowing out the lamp he again raised the sash cautiously, and with a
hurried handshake bade him good-night.

"If ye want me again Hite Holt kin find me--he knows whar I be," he
whispered softly. Then he slipped out into the darkness and was gone.

Holcomb regained his chair, folded the paper containing every grain of
the powder into an envelope and slipped it into his desk.

One thing he was resolved upon--not to tell Mr. Thayor of his
suspicions until there was no question of his proof.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It is a long