d. We didn't say
anything before the sheriff, but it was understood that Ricks wouldn't
be brought back to town alive. We located him in an old barn. We
surrounded it, and were just about to fire it when Kilday came tearing
up on horseback."

"Yes?" cried Ruth.

"Well," he went on, "he hadn't started with us, and he had been riding
like mad all night to overtake the crowd. His horse dropped under him
before he could dismount. Kilday jumped out in the crowd and began to
talk like a crazy man. He said we mustn't harm Ricks Wilson; that
Ricks hadn't shot the judge, for he was sure he had seen him out the
Junction road about half-past five. We all saw it was a put-up job; he
was Ricks Wilson's old pal, you know."

"But Sandy Kilday wouldn't lie!" cried Ruth.

"Well, that's what he did, and worse. When we tried to close in on
Wilson, Kilday fought like a tiger. You never saw anything like the
mix-up, and in the general skirmish Wilson escaped."

"And--and Sandy?" Ruth was leaning forward, with her hands clasped and
her lips apart.

"Well, he showed what he was, all right. He took sides with that
good-for-nothing scoundrel who had shot a man that was almost his
father. Why, I never saw such a case of ingratitude in my life!"

"Where are they taking him?" she almost whispered.

"To jail for resisting an officer."

"Miss Rufe, de man's come fer de trunks. Is dey ready?" asked Rachel
from the hall.

Ruth rose and put her hand on the back of the chair to steady herself.

"Yes; yes, they are ready," she said with an effort. "And, Rachel,
tell the man to go as quietly as possible. Mr. Carter must not be
disturbed until it is time to start."

CHAPTER XXIII

"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"

Just off Main street, under the left wing of the court-house, lay the
little county jail. It frowned down from behind its fierce mask of
bars and spikes, and boldly tried to make the town forget the number
of prisoners that had escaped its walls.

In a small front cell, beside a narrow grated window, Ricks Wilson had
sat and successfully planned his way to freedom.

The prisoner who now occupied the cell spent no time on thoughts of
escape. He paced restlessly up and down the narrow chamber, or lay on
the cot, with his hands under his head, and stared at the grimy
ceiling. The one question which he continually put to the jailer was
concerning the latest news of Judge Hollis.

Sandy had been given an examining trial on the