"Ku-Klux, sir! Tried to rob the express! There was two of them in mask jumped in with their pistols and belted the agent over the head and laid him out; but afore they could get into the safe, the baggage-master, Jim Dalton, came in, and he yelled and went for 'em. We was running slow up grade, and they jumped off; Jim and the conductor after them; that's why we stopped and backed down." "Which way did they go?" I asked. "Took right into the bush, I reckon. That lieutenant and another feller has gone in through here, and Bill here says he seen three other fellers light out from the back car,--the one you was in, sir. That's enough to catch them if they're on the trail." "Catch them!" I exclaimed. "Those three men in our car were of the same gang, if anything, and that makes five to our four." "Yes, by G--d!" said another of the party, a sturdy-looking planter; "and what's more, I believe they've got a ranch in hereabouts and belong to Hank Smith's gang. There ain't a meaner set of cut-throats in all Dixie." "Then, for heaven's sake, let's go in and hunt up our party!" said I, really apprehensive as to their safety. Three or four volunteered at once. Over the fence we went, and on into the pitchy darkness beyond. Stumbling over logs and cracking sticks and leaves, squashing through mud-holes and marshy ground, we plunged ahead, until a minute or two brought us panting into a comparatively open space, and there we paused to listen. Up to this time I had heard not a sound from the pursuit, and hardly knew which way to turn. Each man held his breath and strained his ears. Another minute and it came,--well on to the front,--a yell, a shot, another shot, and then,--"This way!" "This way!" "Here they are!" The rest was drowned by our own rush, as we once more plunged into the thicket and on towards the shouts. All of us were armed in one way or another,--it is rare enough that any man goes otherwise in that section of the country,--and to me there was a terrible excitement about the whole affair, and my heart came bounding up to my throat with every stride. One or two more shots were heard, and on we kept until, just as every man was almost breathless and used up, we were brought to a sudden stop on the steep bank of a bayou that stretched far to either side of our path, right and left, completely barring farther progress. In blank amazement, and utterly at a loss what to do, we were gazing stupidly in one another's faces, as one after another we gathered on the brink, when there came a sudden exclamation from the midst of us,--"Who's that?" I jumped, thanks to startled nerves, and looked around. A dark form came creeping slowly up the bank, and a weak voice said,-- "Don't shoot, fellows. I'm all right, but they nigh onto finished me, and they've got Hank Smith away anyhow."