leeping out in the storm. I'm going to encroach
once more upon the ghostly hospitality of the Squibbs. Better come with
me."

The youth shuddered and drew back. From far behind came faintly the
shout of a man.

"Yes, I'll go," exclaimed the boy. "Let's hurry," and he started off at
a half-run toward the dirt road.

The man followed more slowly. The darkness hid the quizzical expression
of his eyes. He, too, had heard the faint shout far to the rear. He
recalled the boy's "after all that has happened to me tonight," and he
shrewdly guessed that the latter's sudden determination to brave the
horrors of the haunted house was closely connected with the hoarse voice
out of the distance.

When he had finally come abreast of the youth after the latter, his
first panic of flight subsided, had reduced his speed, he spoke to him
in his kindly tones.

"What was it that happened to you to-night?" he asked. "Is someone
following you? You needn't be afraid of me. I'll help you if you've been
on the square. If you haven't, you still needn't fear me, for I won't
peach on you. What is it? Tell me."

The youth was on the point of unburdening his soul to this stranger
with the kindly voice and the honest eyes; but a sudden fear stayed his
tongue. If he told all it would be necessary to reveal certain details
that he could not bring himself to reveal to anyone, and so he commenced
with his introduction to the wayfarers in the deserted hay barn. Briefly
he told of the attack upon him, of his shooting of Dopey Charlie, of the
flight and pursuit. "And now," he said in conclusion, "that you know I'm
a murderer I suppose you won't have any more to do with me, unless you
turn me over to the authorities to hang." There was almost a sob in his
voice, so real was his terror.

The man threw an arm across his companion's shoulder. "Don't worry,
kid," he said. "You're not a murderer even if you did kill Dopey
Charlie, which I hope you did. You're a benefactor of the human race.
I have known Charles for years. He should have been killed long since.
Furthermore, as you shot in self defence no jury would convict you.
I fear, however, that you didn't kill him. You say you could hear his
screams as long as you were within earshot of the barn--dead men don't
scream, you know."

"How did you know my name?" asked the youth.

"I don't," replied the man.

"But you called me 'Kid' and that's my name--I'm The Oskaloosa Kid."

The man was glad that