tunity that was offered to give Rodney
a friendly warning.

"After you have been in this country a while, you will find that the
women are worse rebels than the men," said he, in an undertone. "I don't
suppose she would lead the Emergency men on to us, for that would get
Merrick into trouble; but such things have been done in the settlement
where I live. We can't do any more talking at present. Have another
piece of the toast?"

"If I had passed through as many dangers as you have and had as narrow
an escape, I don't think I could eat as you do," said Rodney, who took
note of the fact that his friend had not lost any of his appetite since
he left Barrington.

"I've had three good meals to-day, and a hearty lunch in the swamp; but
I don't know when I have been so hungry," replied Tom; and then seeing
that Rodney cast occasional glances toward the kitchen stove in which a
bright fire was burning, he continued, in an earnest whisper, "This is
as good a chance as you will have. Chuck 'em in, and you'll not regret
it; but if you have no objections, I should like to read them before you
do it. I'll keep mum."

Rodney knew that, and forthwith produced the letters, which had been a
source of anxiety to him ever since they came into his possession, and
also Mr. Graham's last telegram. Tom said he did not know either of the
men whose names were signed to the letters that came through Captain
Howard, but he was better acquainted with Mr. Westall and his four
companions than he cared to be.

"The man who wrote this letter to Erastus Percival, my father, must be
some one down the river who has had business dealings with him; but I
don't know the gentleman," said he, after he had run his eye over the
various documents. "Put the whole business right into the stove. You
don't want any such papers about you, for you don't know whom you are
going to meet on the road. Trust to luck; stare Fate in the face, and
your heart will be aisy if it's in the right place."

If Mrs. Merrick was surprised or suspected anything when Rodney put the
letters into her stove and stood over them long enough to see them
reduced to ashes, she made no remark. As he was about to return to his
seat at the table there came a sound that arrested his steps, and
brought Tom Percival out of his chair in a twinkling. The doors and
windows were all closed (the curtains were pulled down as well, so that
no one on the outside could see into the room), but the words