"We know it; and if that is all you care to have us know, of course we shall have to be satisfied with it," said Marcy, who had received a slight nod from one of the masked men, whom he took to be Aleck Webster. "But it's mighty poor consolation not to be able to call our friends by name. I wish you would do me another friendly act by going through that wounded robber's pockets and getting my revolvers back for me. They jumped on to me and took them away before I was fairly awake." This request was quickly and silently complied with, and then the masked men started out again, taking the four would-be robbers with them. Mrs. Gray wanted much to ask what they intended to do with the prisoners, but a look and a few words from Marcy checked her. "Let us show our gratitude by respecting their wishes and asking no questions," said he earnestly. "They have saved me from a choking, and if they ever want anything I can give them, I know they will not hesitate to let me know it. Good-night, friends, if you will not tell us what else to call you." A dozen voices, which sounded strange and hollow under the thick white masks that covered the faces of the rescuers, responded "good-night," and Marcy, filled with gratitude for his deliverance, stood on the porch at the side door and saw them disappear down the lane that led through the almost deserted negro quarter. Then he walked around to the front door to see what had become of Bose, and discovered him curled up in his usual place on the mat. "You rascal!" he exclaimed. "What do you mean by lying here fast asleep, while----" Marcy's impulse was to kick the dog off the mat in the first place and off the porch in the second; but remembering how faithfully the devoted animal had served him in the past and that this was his first offence, he bent over and grasped him by the neck, only to let go his hold the very next instant. Bose was stiff and cold--as dead as a door nail. "Poisoned!" ejaculated Marcy. "And to think that I was on the point of kicking the poor beast! I deserve to be kicked myself for doubting him. The chap who rode into the yard to-night to inquire the way to Nashville is the villain who is to blame for this. He is the fellow who captained the robbers to-night, and no doubt he was feeding Bose something, when I thought he was trying to quiet him. Poor old Bose!" The boy's heart was heavy as he faced about and went into the house, where he found his mother pacing the floor, more frightened and agitated now than she had been at any time while in the presence of the robbers. She laid her head on Marcy's shoulder, and cried softly as he put his arm around her and led her to a seat. "What's the good of taking on so now that the trouble is all over?" said he. "But that's always the way with a woman. She will stand up to the rack when there is need of it, and cry when there is nothing to cry for. What's the use of doing that?"