Little Snap paused, thinking he might be coming near at hand, and when he failed to appear he shouted his name. Only the chirping of the squirrels answered him. One of these, as if anxious to tell him why its master was not on hand, actually ran up to the postboy's shoulder, remaining there as he rode on, wondering what had caused the strange man's non-appearance. When he had gone a few rods the squirrel jumped to the ground, and with a louder chirp, ran back to rejoin its mates. "It is the first time in six months, rain or shine, he has failed to be here. I wonder if he is sick?" He was still thinking of the old hermit, when he was startled by the sudden appearance of a gaunt, stooping figure beside his horse as he began the ascent to the Narrows. "Don't be skeert, younker," said a harsh, grating voice from the stranger. "We kem es friends. I'm Ab Raggles, an' this hyur is my fust boy, Beeline Raggles." As he finished speaking a second figure, very similar to the first, save for the changes made by the difference in years, suddenly stepped from the growth by the wayside and unconcernedly stalked on the other side of the postboy. Little Snap, not knowing what to make of such company, stopped Jack, and facing the older of the singular twain, demanded: "What do you want?" "To pay off an ol' debt by befriendin' ye. We wuz off our toes 'bout 'em Burrnocks yesterday, an' we didn't ketch onto their plans in season to help yer this mornin', but mebbe we can do yer a good turn now. The rock ain't out o' th' path up yender." Notwithstanding the uncouth appearance of the speaker, and his illiterate speech, there was an evidence of honesty in both that did not escape the keen perception of Little Snap. "In what way can you help me?" he asked. "Wull, it's jess like this: I s'pose ye air purty anxious to get on to Six Roads?" "What if I am? I cannot do so if the road is blocked." "That's jess whar ye air barkin' up th' wrong tree, es I 'lowed ye would. I know a path right over through th' growth wot'll bring ye round to Hollow Tree slick es a coon whistlin' on a stump." "I shall miss Greenbrier?" "Sart'inly; sorter go round yit. Then, too, ye'll hev to go through Blazed Acre. Mebbe ye won't care to do thet. Th' Burrnocks think they scooped ye clean this morn'. It'd open their eyes fit to bustin'. Wot d'ye say—go?" CHAPTER XI. THE RIDE THROUGH BLAZED ACRE. Little Snap hesitated a moment before replying to this rather broken speech, during which time Ab Raggles moved restlessly to and fro. "Yit's a bit likely to brung ye trubble, I'll 'low, younker, but th' boy an' I'll stand by ye like fun. Yit's th' only way fer ye to git home." "What motive have you, a stranger to me, to offer to do this?" asked the postboy. "Motif? Didn't ye kem to our risky yesterday? The Raggles may be pore cattle, but they ain't them es fergits their friends."