Feeling very much refreshed, I headed for the railroad track and, with my eyes and ears open, arrived at the outskirts of Steubenville in the vicinity of one o’clock in the morning of Wednesday, having been tramping and dodging my enemies nearly seventy-two hours. Avoiding the principal streets, I gained the other side of the town, where I took time to decide whether I would go on foot to Pittsburg, sixty-five miles away, or seek out a barn, and, lying low until night, board an east-bound train at Steubenville and make the journey by rail. I chose the latter course and then set out to find a suitable hiding-place, daybreak being fast on my heels before I had accomplished it. The best I could do was a small barn in which there was less than a thousand pounds of hay in a loft about a man’s height above the floor of a cow stable. With my water flask full, but no food to nourish my body, my stomach painfully distressing me for want of it, I burrowed under the hay, and with but a few feet between me and the stable, and no more than four feet of covering above me, I fixed myself as comfortably as I could for the day. All together it bade fair to be a much more acceptable stopping-place than the last one. Soon after the sun rose--that I could tell by the appearance of things below me--some one came to the stable. It was the farmer or one of his men, I reckoned, but a man I knew it to be, by the unintelligible mumbling he kept up, a habit very frequently possessed by men when alone, though unconscious of it. As I lay perhaps less than a foot at times from the man’s head, I could hear and sometimes see every move he made; and when he was on the stool at the side of the cow, I could hear the see-sawing “swirr” of the milk streaming down in the pail, and I heartily wished I had a big panful of the rich life-giving fluid in my almost famished stomach. For the moment I was carried back to my old farm home and its happy days, when I had milk in plenty to drink, but had not the appetite for it that possessed me as I lay in the hay-loft. While the farmer was in the stable I did not dare to stir, the hay being thick with seed and a fine substance that would shower below through the open floor at the slightest movement I made. Having finished his morning chores, the man left, and I had the barn to myself until about noon, as near as I could judge, when I was aroused from a sort of a doze by the voices of three young girls. They had come to hunt eggs, I heard them say, and right away I wondered if it would take them up in my hay-loft. How they did chatter; I thought the music of their happy voices was about the sweetest I had listened to in many days. I lay still, for the time being, forgetful of my surroundings, just feasting my ears, when suddenly my enjoyment was turned into apprehension; for the dear little girls had taken it into their heads to transfer the scene of their egg-hunting from the lower part of the barn to the hay-loft.