! Jim, I hear a hoss's hoofs," said Harry Joslyn.

"Sh! so do I," echoed Gid Mackall.

They all listened with painful eagerness.

"Hoss's hoofs and breakin' limbs, sure's you're a foot high," whispered
Harry. "And they're comin' down the hill this way."

"That's right. They're a'most to the crick now," assented Gid. "I'm
going to shoot."

"No; I've got the right to a first shot," said Jim. "You fellers hold
off."

Bang went Jim's gun, followed almost instantly by the others.

"Hi, dere, boys; I's done found you at las'! Whoopee!" called out a
cheery voice from across the creek, and a man rode boldly down to the
water's edge, where the boys were nervously reloading.

"Now, Jim Humphreys, what in blazes are you bangin' away at now?"
angrily demanded Si, striding up. "At a cotton-tailed rabbit or a
sycamore stump?"

"The woods is full o' rebel cavalry comin' acrost the crick," gasped
Jim, as he rammed down his cartridge. "There, you kin see 'em for
yourself."

"What foh you come dis-a-way, boys?" continued the voice of the man
on horseback. "I done los' you! I fought we done agreed to go ober by
Simpson's hill, an' I jine you dar. I went dat-a-way, an' den I hear you
shootin' ober dis-a-way, an' seed yoh fiah, and I cut acrost to git to
you. Whah'd you git so many guns, an' sich big ones? Sound like sojer
guns. I done beared dem way ober dah, an' I--"

"Hold on, boys," sternly shouted Shorty, springing in front of them and
throwing up their guns. "Don't one o' you dare shoot! Hold up, I say!
Hello, you there! Who are you?"

"Who's me?" said the negro, astonished by the strange voice. "I's Majah
Wilkinson's Sam, Massa Patrol. I's got a pass all right. De old Majah
done tole me I could go out coon-huntin' wid Kunnel Oberly's boys
tonight, but I done missed dem."

"Come ashore here, boy," commanded Shorty, "and be thankful that you're
alive. You've had a mighty narrow squeak of it. Next time you go out
coon huntin' be sure there's no Yankee and rebel soldiers huntin' one
another in the neighborhood. Coons have a tough time then."

"Yankee sojers!" gasped the negro, as he was led back to the fire, and
saw the blue uniforms. "Lawdy, massy, don't kill me. I pray, sah, don't.
I hain't done nuffin. Sho' I hain't. Massa said you'd burn me alibe if
you eber cotched me, but you won't, will you?"

"We ain't goin' to hurt you," said Shorty. "Sit down there by the fire
and git the goose-flesh offen you." Then turning