hall, lined with stalls. The ladder still led into the loft but
there was no one on it.

"Joe!" called Tommy shrilly.

"He's gone up in the loft," said Davis.

Tommy and Mrs. Davis watched the two men climb the ladder. Mrs. Davis
was breathing hard, as if some great test was about to be put to her.
They heard the men walking about in the rustling hay; they heard Steve
Earle calling.

"Joe--Joe--nobody's going to hurt you, son."

Their faces looked worried when they came down. Aunt Cindy had run out
to them now. She had been in the front room, listening between the
curtains to the conversation on the porch. She had not seen the child.

"He's run off!" screamed Tommy suddenly. "Papa, I tol' him the cop had
come."

Aunt Cindy was down on her knees and had caught him to her ample bosom
as she had caught him so many times. He choked down the sobs that had
begun to rise. With terror he saw that the trees that had been standing
so still were now rustling their leaves violently, and that out at the
road a cloud of dust was rising.

Then Frank took charge of things.

He had gone into the barn with them. He had smelled the ladder, the
ground, and come out into the lot. While they were searching he had run
to them, looked up into their faces, run back out, his nose to the
ground, and turned at the entrance to look at them once more, ears
pricked. Frank had known from the first. That empty ladder, that
straw-carpeted hall, that cleanly kept barn lot, had all the time been
telling him something that it didn't tell people. But Frank couldn't
talk, so now he took his stand beside Steve Earle and barked. Steve
turned quickly.

"I get you, Frank!" he said. "Go find him!"

Gratefully Frank looked up at his master. He ran to the lot fence, and
reared up on it, smelling the top of the planks. Then he drew back,
gathered himself, and sprang up on the fence. He remained poised for a
moment, sprang down, and started across the cotton patch, his nose to
the ground.

"You had better stay, Mrs. Davis," said Earle.

"No, I'm going." Her motherly face was set, the wind was whipping her
skirt about her.

Aunt Cindy had run to the house and brought her a raincoat. She was
going, too, declared the black woman. They all hurried around the lot.
In the cottonfield Frank was still waiting.

"Had we better let Tommy go?" asked Davis.

"He stood up for the kid, John," replied Earle. "He's going to be in at
the finish."

Down by the