point of worthiness that might mask the true character of
his entertainers. But, indeed, these deceptive hopes might have been
easily maintained by one not so desirous of reassurance when, in the
darkest hour before the dawn, they reached a large log-cabin sequestered
in dense woods, and he found himself an inmate of a simple, typical
mountain household. It held an exceedingly venerable grandfather,
wielding his infirmities as a rod of iron; a father and mother, hearty,
hospitable, subservient to the aged tyrant, but keeping in filial check
a family of sons and daughters-in-law, with an underfoot delegation of
grandchildren, who seemed to spend their time in a bewildering manouver
of dashing out at one door to dash in at another. A tumultuous rain
had set in shortly after dawn, with lightning and wind,--"the tail of a
harricane," as the host called it,--and a terrible bird the actual storm
must have been to have a tail of such dimensions. There was no getting
forth, no living creature of free will "took water" in this elemental
crisis. The numerous dogs crowded the children away from the hearth,
and the hens strolled about the large living-room, clucking to scurrying
broods. Even one of the horses tramped up on the porch and looked in
ever and anon, solicitous of human company.

"I brung Ben up by hand, like a bottle-fed baby," the hostess
apologized, "an' he ain't never fund out fur sure that he ain't folks."

There seemed no possible intimation of moonshine in this entourage, and
the coffin filled with jugs, a-wagoning from some distillers' den in the
range to the cross-roads' store, might well have been accounted only the
vain phantasm of an overtired brain surcharged with the vexed problems
of the revenue service. The disguised revenue-raider was literally
overcome with drowsiness, the result of his exertions and his vigils,
and observing this, his host gave him one of the big feather beds under
the low slant of the eaves in the roof-room, where the other men, who
had been out all night, also slept the greater portion of the day. In
fact, it was dark when Wyatt wakened, and, leaving the rest still torpid
with slumber and fatigue, descended to the large main room of the cabin.

The callow members of the household had retired to rest, but the elders
of the band of moonshiners were up and still actively astir, and Wyatt
experienced a prescient vicarious qualm to note their lack of heed or
secrecy--the noisy shifting o