"But this is er onexpected move, an’ they mayn’t be a-lookin’ fer it," persisted the other man. "They air always a-ready an’ a-lookin’. They ain’t ter be tuk nappin’." But the girl, listening with breathless attention, shivered, not sharing her father’s easy confidence. She remembered that Gabe Plummer had said they were coming down to old man Whitaker’s, and she knew that they were off guard. They would be caught, she thought, with a cold sensation around her heart; Gabe would be put in jail, and locked up, probably for months, and then come back with all the youth and strength gone from him. Even as these thoughts were passing through her mind, a sound fell on her ears, faint, far away, and yet to her, alert, keenly alive to the approach of danger, terribly significant. It was the steady tramp of iron-shod hoofs upon the road, and it approached from the valley. She sat motionless, but with fierce-beating heart, listening and feeling sure it was the enemy drawing near. The revenue men had always looked upon the Standneges as peaceful, law-abiding citizens, and though no information had ever been obtained from them, the officers sometimes stopped with them, lounged in the entry, or sat at their board, partakers of their humble fare. Probably they intended stopping for supper. The girl devoutly hoped they would. The steady tramp grew louder, the hound pricked up his long ears, sniffed the air, then dashed around the house with a deep, hostile yelp. The next moment a party of horsemen halted before the gate. Her fears were realized. The dog barked noisily, the men chaffed each other in a hilarious way, while the horses stamped and breathed loudly, and the quiet place seemed all at once vivified with fresh life. Standnege went out to the gate followed by his guest; Mrs. Standnege and Polly came to the door and peered out, and Eph hurriedly closed his knife and thrust the whistle into his pocket preparatory to following his elders. The officers would not dismount, though hospitably pressed to do so. "’Light, ’light, an’ come in; the wimmen folks air jest a-gettin’ supper," said Standnege cordially. "Business is too urgent. We are bound to capture our men to-night. Why, the whole gang are coming down out of their lair to old man Whitaker’s to-night, so we have been informed, and we must be on hand to welcome them." Eph crossed the yard, but when he would have stepped up to take a short cut through the entry, his hand was caught in another hand so cold it sent a shiver of terror over him. "My—why, S’phiry Ann!" he sharply exclaimed. "Hush!" she whispered, drawing him out of the light. "Will you go with me ter ole man Whitaker’s, Eph?" "This time o’ night?" "Yes, now." "It’s more’n a mile." "We’ll take the nigh cut through the woods." "Dark as all git-out." "I’m not afeerd; I’ll go erlone then," she said with contempt.