In a few moments Lieutenant-Colonel Tarleton stood within the cabin, and his wounded troopers were lying groaning upon the floor near by. He looked with lowering brow upon Major Marion, his harsh, brutal face made all the more ruffianly by the rage which distorted it. Marion lay stretched upon his couch of furs and pine boughs, his deep-set, brilliant black eyes seeming to search into the very soul of his enemy. Tarleton bore the look for a time, then burst out in a voice thick with the rage that consumed him. “So you are that skulking fox, Marion, for whom we have been looking!” “And you,” returned the little man, “are that hound, Tarleton, whom I have been trying to avoid.” “Take care,” burst out Tarleton, who like a great many others of his sort, did not like to be paid in his own coin. “Thank you; I shall endeavor to,” returned Marion, coolly. “It was my desire to see you; for, Colonel Tarleton, I think the day is coming when we shall meet quite often in the persons of our followers; and it is as well for me to know you by sight.” “I’ll teach you all to know me,” swore the fiery Tarleton. “I’ll make the Carolinas dread my very name.” “If that is your ambition, it is realized already. The mothers along the Santee frighten their children into quiet by telling them that the bloody Tarleton is coming. The reputation, my dear colonel, is not a very noble one; but such as it is you have realized it; and as you seem to like it I wish you great enjoyment of it.” The quiet, biting words of Marion made the burly colonel writhe; he answered in his loud, harsh fashion, but it was like matching a bludgeon against a rapier, and he got all the worst of the contest of tongues. And while they talked Tom Deering and Cole, assisted by the two Collins boys, were not idle. The mounts of the three dragoons were led up; a rude sling was quickly constructed and placed between two of them for Marion. After the attacks of Tarleton, the little partisan would not be safe in this place when the defeated troopers and their colonel reached their own camp. It was Marion himself who had told Tom what to do, for none knew the danger better than he. When all was ready Cole took the slight form of the major in his mighty arms and bore him out to where the sling was awaiting him. There were horses enough to mount all, Mrs. Collins included. They were brought up to the door; Mr. Collins and his wife were assisted to their saddles, and then the three youths and Cole closed and fastened the cabin securely, with Tarleton and his men still inside. The language of the British officer startled Tom; but Marion had dealt with such people before. “I bid you good-night, Colonel Tarleton,” he called as he rested his injured leg in the easy depths of the sling. “And you may save your compliments; for when I extend you mine it will be on a sword blade or the barrel of a rifle. Now then,” turning to Tom, “if we are ready, forward.”