'I don't know exactly, neighbor; but at present I shall keep it. Something may turn up, you know--and to save a great deal of talk, as it is getting late, matters must stand thus: I have obtained possession of this at some risk; you agreed to pay me well, you know, if the job succeeded. Go on then--slash away at the timber; cut down and sell off as fast as you can--no one can hinder you--hand over half you get to me, and all will go smoothly enough. Do you agree to that?' Cross knew that Foster was a great villain, but he had never calculated upon the chance of thus getting into his power; he knew now that he was resolved upon a desperate course. 'I suppose I shall be sued as soon as I begin to cut.' 'No fear from that quarter. Rutherford is down, and has no means to contend with; his creditors will get picking enough to satisfy themselves out of his other property; and no lawyer will undertake the job, on his own risk, without more show of a title than he can now claim.' 'Well, if they do prosecute, you agree to see to it?' 'Ay, ay, neighbor, leave all that to me.' 'And suppose there should be trouble about what Ned Saunders has been blabbing?' 'That won't amount to much; it will soon be known that you are the owner of nearly all the barrens now, and they will be careful enough how they raise their tongue against you; a man is not very likely to swear to his own injury.' As Cross arose to depart, the other gentleman left his seat also, and dropping the hand which held the pistol, let it dangle by his side; the other hand he placed in his bosom, and facing his guest looked at him very complacently; a slight smile and a gentle, inclination of the head, on the part of Foster, were all the greeting that passed, as Cross neither turned his head nor uttered a word, but with a quick step left the house, and went on his way. The wages of iniquity are sometimes reaped in this world, and Cross was just tasting the bitter fruit. CHAPTER XXIV. Mr. Rutherford had received his dear wife and children as it were from the jaws of death, but it had been by the almost super-human exertions of the faithful Caesar, who, for a long time, was disabled by the severe injuries he had received as he bore them through the burning building. The noble beasts for which Caesar had fought so bravely, with all the luxuries and comforts of his large establishment, were swept away at the demands of creditors, and nothing that he could call his own remained except the faithful old negro--who, although a slave, was too far advanced in life to be liable as property--and those dear objects in which his heart still found some sweet solace amid the drear prospect which surrounded him.