ch the roan colt had been placed under
cover.

"The dogs won't bother me, will they?" asked Rodney.

"Oh, no. You've been round amongst 'em and they know you."

Rodney posted off, and Jeff saw him disappear through the door of the
cabin that had been pointed out to him; but he was not looking, that way
when Rodney came out a moment later, and with noiseless steps and form
half bent directed his course toward Tom Percival's prison. His face
wore a determined look, and his right hand, which was thrust into the
pocket of his sack coat, firmly clutched his revolver. He knew that he
must succeed in what he was about to attempt or die in his tracks, for
if he were detected, he would stand as good a chance of being hanged as
Tom himself. But there were no signs of wavering or hesitation about
him. He drew a bee-line for the back of the corn-crib, and began looking
for the places where the chinking had fallen out. It did not take him
many minutes to find one, and then he set about attracting Tom's
attention by pulling the stick from his sleeve, and rubbing it back and
forth through one of the cracks. The movement was successful. There was
a slight rustling among the corn-husks inside the cabin, and a second
later the prisoner laid hold of the stick.

"All right," whispered Tom. "I was looking for you, and I know what this
stick is for, Shake."

The boys tried to bring their hands together, but the opening between
the logs was so narrow that the best they could do was to interlock some
of their fingers.

"Here," whispered Rodney, pushing his revolver through the crack butt
first. '; Take this, you Yankee, and remember that you will surely be
hung if you don't get out of here before daylight."

"I hope you are not disarming yourself," said Tom.

"That's all right. This is for Dick Graham's sake and Barrington's; but
look out for me if I catch you outside, for I am one of Price's men."

Tom said something in reply, but Rodney did not hear what it was, nor
did he think it safe to stop long enough to ask the prisoner to repeat
the words. He hastened away from the corn-crib, and when Jeff and Mr.
Westall next saw him, he was standing in the stable door pushing back
his horse which was trying to follow him out. He was doing more. He was
striving with all his will-power to subdue the feelings of excitement
and exultation that surged upon him when he thought of what he had done,
and what the consequences to him would be if any