disappear, swiftly, silently, into the
undergrowth that grew densely behind the open space and the giant
sycamore tree.

When, all out of breath, they reached the spot from whence had proceeded
the solitary tree-bay, they looked about at vacant woods. Frantically
they searched the undergrowth, shotguns ready, calling to each other in
their excitement. Man and dog had vanished as if they had never been.

But Simmons did not believe in miracles. "The old devil killed the dog!"
he cried. "He had a knife about him. But where's the blood and where's
the body?"

They hurried here and there as they glimpsed red spots, only to find a
leaf killed by the sun and fallen before season, or a bush reddened by
berries.

"We miscalculated the spot," swore Simmons. "It wasn't here it
happened."

And he sat down out of breath and leaned his burly back against the
trunk of a giant sycamore tree.

The sun was dropping over the mountains when the two guards,
empty-handed, got back to camp. The valleys lay in shadow, but far up in
the enormous folds of the Tennessee mountains its last crimson rays
shone on a bearded old man trudging along a narrow road toward the west.

He looked weary and footsore and his clothes were torn by briers. But
his face was alight, as if with anticipation of to-morrow. Now and then
he spoke. And behind him a great, strange-looking, long-eared hound
lifted his head, as if drinking in the sound of his voice.

X

THE LITTLE BOY IN THE BLACKBERRY PATCH

Something strange was going on down there in the woods behind the barn.
Little Tommy Earle was convinced of it as soon as he saw old Frank,
Irish setter, come galloping across the cottonfields from that
direction. For old Frank was excited, that was plain; and old Frank
didn't get excited for nothing.

Accordingly, Tommy dropped his wagon tongue, and watched the old boy
round the barn, jump the lot fence, and run into the yard. His red
silken ears were thrown back, his brown eyes were shining, and he was
looking for somebody to tell his secret to.

"F'ank!" called the boy.

At the call the old fellow's ears flattened and he threw up his head,
then he came running straight to Tommy. There was an eager light in his
eyes that said plain as words, "Come with me and I'll show you
something."

Tommy's heart began to pound. From the kitchen window above his head
came the flop-flop of a churn, accompanied by the wailing song of Aunt
Cindy, the cook