it over fer ye."

"Thank ye, Uncle Dick," was the grave response. But the young man did
not rescind his refusal of the veteran's company.

Uncle Dick offered a share of his bed to Brant and the marshal, but it
was refused by both. There were blankets spread for the men on the
floor of the porch, where the smoke gushed from a smudge kettle to
keep off the mosquitoes. There, presently, the company stretched
themselves for the brief dreamless sleep won by the day's fatigues.

Even Zeke fell into a sound slumber, with the bull-terrier nestled at
his breast. He had not thought to sleep, only to lie quiet for a
little rest, and then, long before the dawn, to issue forth alone.
Nevertheless, his repose was profound for two hours, or more. Perhaps,
the stirring of the dog awoke him; perhaps, his own determination,
subconsciously exerted. Anyhow, he straightened up suddenly, and
stared about him stupidly, reluctant to believe that he had actually
slept thus, while Plutina cried out for succor. He was relieved when
he perceived that there was not yet even a trace of dawn in the east.
He realized that it was as well, for though he had lost little time,
he felt vitally refreshed, with new vigors to battle in behalf of the
girl he loved. It was but the work of a minute noiselessly to possess
himself of his rifle, and to descend the steps. The bull-terrier kept
close at his heels. With the dog still following, Zeke, pressed
forward through the darkness toward Stone Mountain.

The other sleepers were aroused by Uncle Dick as the first gray light
was flushing to the rose of dawn over the eastern mountains. There was
some astonishment at finding Zeke already gone, but it subsided
quickly, for all understood how great must be his anxiety. The men of
the posse duly took their departure for the railway points designated
by the marshal. Seth Jones set out in pursuit of Zeke. Stone, with
Uncle Dick and Brant, made ready for the actual hunting of the
outlaw.

"I've seen Jack more than once pick up a cold trail three days old,"
the hound's master declared, with a manifest pride in the creature's
prowess; "and run down his man. Can we get hold of something to give
him the scent--an old shoe, or cap--anything?"

"Got jest the thing fer ye," Uncle Dick replied, leading the way from
the cabin toward one of the out-buildings. "Hit's an ole coat. Dan
left hit one hot day when he stopped in at my forge, to tinker the
rivets to the cap o' the