death of his parents, and
was a fair reader. Like most boys who have been restrained through
one cause or another from reading all the books they desired, he was
ready and anxious to devour anything that came his way.

Jim and Gerald put their heads together, and resolved to circumvent
James Haley should he appear on the scene in search of Len.

"We'll lead him away from the camp," said Jim, "without telling him
any deliberate untruths--send him off on a false scent. Aunt Betty is
right, you know; we can't let him go back to a life like that."

"No," said Gerald; "it would be a pity. If his uncle's treatment was
bad enough to make Len take to the mountains in the night time, it
must have been at least a mild sort of an inquisition."

The boys congratulated themselves later on planning matters out in
advance, for the forenoon was barely half gone when two horsemen rode
out of the woods to the south of the camp and turned their horses in
the direction of the tents.

Jim was the first to see them.

"Don't be startled, folks," he said, "and please don't turn and
'rubber,' for there are two men coming toward camp on horseback."

"Oh!" gasped Molly. "Poor Len!"

"Poor Len, nothing!" Jim returned. "I know it is hard for a girl to
refrain from doing something she's been asked not to, but if you turn
your head, Molly Breckenridge, or let on in any way that you've seen
those horsemen, you need never call me your friend again. We must act
like we haven't seen them, until they hail us. Ephraim, you sneak
into the tent, without looking to the right or the left. Then hide
Len under the cots or somewhere where they won't find him. Gerald and
I will talk to the men when they arrive."

The girls and Aunt Betty kept their presence of mind very well,
considering the fact that they were laboring under no little
excitement.

Ephraim went carelessly into the tent, as Jim had bade him, where he
concealed the runaway lad in a very natural manner under a heavy
quilt. It mattered not that the weather was excessively warm this
time of day; the old negro figured that the exigencies of the case
demanded desperate measures, and as for Len, he accepted his
punishment without a whimper.

By the time the men had drawn rein before the tents, Ephraim was
sitting calmly in a chair, an illustrated paper in his hand, puffing
complacently at his pipe.

"Good morning," greeted the larger of the two men.

"Good morning," returned Jim, pleasan