He had to repeat his summons before it was opened, and then it was only far enough to enable his mother to see who the visitor was. Then she drew him inside, and quickly closed and bolted the door again. John almost broke down when he looked at her, so woful and desperate was her expression. He must cheer her with some hope, and his own courage revived at the cheerful tone which he assumed: “Little mother, none of the Russells were ever hanged, and I shall not be the first.” “What will you do, my son?” Her voice sounded as if it were far away, and John looked up quickly as he replied: “I shall make a break for it, if I must. I’d rather be shot in trying to get away than be hanged.” “You are my own brave laddie,” said his mother, rising. “Do your best, John; but if you have to----” “I know, I know,” he murmured, as for one moment he returned her frantic embrace; and then, not daring to look back, he left the room. After crossing the lawn he seated himself beneath a spreading tree to collect his thoughts and survey the place. Everything was as it had been. The guards were marching up and down in the road; the idle soldiers were lounging about the tents; the locusts were calling in the trees, and peace apparently was over all. “I’ll have to try it. They may come for me any time now,” he thought, suddenly rising and starting toward the guard in the upper road. He could feel that his mother was watching him, but he dared not look toward her windows. The testing time had come and now it was to be a struggle for life. He walked leisurely up the road, although his heart was beating furiously. He would try not to attract attention, and it was no unusual thing for him to join the men on guard. They all knew he was on parole, and besides, there were the guns if he should try to get away. “It’s hot to-day, Tom,” he said, as he approached. “You’d think it was if you had to carry a gun up and down this dusty road.” “I’d be glad to relieve you, Tom. You rest a bit, while I take your place.” “That’s kind of you,” laughed the guard, “but I fear it won’t do, sir,” and he passed on, while John seated himself to await his return. He glanced at the soldiers in the tents near by. How easily they could reach him, and only one word would bring them all after him! But he must take his chances. There was no other way, and when the guard turned his back again he would try it. Just then a little, lean, half-starved pig came out of the woods and stood for a moment stupidly staring at the boy before him. “Poor fellow!” thought John. “You’re in the same box with me. Tarleton’s men will treat us alike.” He looked up and saw the returning guard. The pig saw him, too, and as if inspired by a sudden fear, he gave a startled grunt and darted swiftly up the road. “Here, sir, help me catch the pig!” shouted the guard, starting swiftly in pursuit of the runaway. “He’s the last on the place.”