"Perfectly right. I don't care a cent what starts him, so long as he starts. Now for Hanson. We ought to find him in a field about a quarter of a mile away in this direction. I am afraid he will run when he sees me." "If he does I'll stop him," replied Hawkins, patting the butt of a long squirrel-rifle he carried on his shoulder. For the first time in many months things seemed to be working in Marcy's favor; for when he and his companion came within sight of the field in which Hanson ought to have found employment that day for Mrs. Gray's hands, he was there, and he did not see them until after they had crossed the fence and made considerable progress toward him. The sight of Marcy made Hanson uneasy--his actions proved that--and it is probable that he would have taken to his heels if the boy had not been in the company of a Confederate soldier who was also a member of the Home Guards. Still he must have feared treachery, for when Marcy approached close enough to speak to him, he saw that his face was very white, and that his hands trembled so violently he could scarcely hold his knife and the stick he was trying to cut. "Morning, gentlemen," said he with a strong effort to appear at his ease. "Fine morning, this morning." "Cicero," said Marcy, addressing one of the field hands and paying no sort of attention to the overseer's greeting, "unless you receive other orders from my mother, you will have charge of this work until I return. Hanson is going with me." "With you, Mister Marcy!" said the man, in a weak voice. "The missus done told me to come out here." "She gave you no orders whatever, and you have not seen her this morning. I order you to get ready to go to Plymouth," answered Marcy; whereupon Hawkins placed his rifle upon the ground and drew a rope from one of his pockets. Never in his life had Marcy seen a man so astonished and frightened as the overseer was at that moment. He dared not resist, and he could not speak when Hawkins drew his arms behind his back and fastened them there with the rope. As to the negroes, who were quick to understand the situation, they would have danced and shouted for joy had they not known that such a demonstration would be displeasing to their young master; so they contented themselves with bringing forward one of their number, who bared his brawny shoulder, and by the action called Marcy's attention to a long ugly-looking welt that had been left there by a blow from the overseer's raw-hide. "Whoop!" yelled Julius; and, to quote from the field hands, he immediately "drapped his wing"; that is to say, he humped up his shoulders and back, dropped his chin upon his breast, raised one foot from the ground, and began hopping toward the overseer on the other. In a minute more Hanson would have been served as Captain Beardsley was the night before, if Marcy had not put a stop to the little darky's antics by taking hold of his collar and giving him a twist that sent him ten feet away.