“It certainly will, if you kin manage to git away,” Hoag said. “Why, if you stay here, you will be in a damn sight wuss fix than the skunk you shot. He's out o' _his_ trouble, but if you stay here yours will just be beginnin'.” “Well, I'll go,” Paul consented. “I can get away all right. I know the woods and mountains.” “Well, throw your gun down behind that log an make off. Say, if they press you hard on your way through the country, an' you find yourself near the farms of Tad Barton, Press Talcot, Joe Thomas, or old man Jimmy Webb, say this to 'em--tell 'em I said--No, I won't give you no password. I haven't got the right to do it without due form. It's ag'in' the rules; but you tell either of 'em that I said put you out of sight, give you grub or a place to sleep, an' that I said pass you along to the railroad. Got any money? Here is five dollars. I owe you that much, anyway, and it's all I happen to have in my pocket. Now, you hit the grit.” Paul took the money and indifferently thrust it into his pocket. Hoag held out his hand. “I don't want you to go away with the idea that I had anything much ag'in' the feller you shot; that's done away with now. We've had one or two little scraps, but they didn't amount to anything. Say”--Hoag pointed to the creek--“if I was you I'd wade along that watercourse for a mile or two. The sheriff might take a notion to put bloodhounds on your track, an' the stream will wash away the scent. Good-by. Make the best of it. I'd ask you to drop me a line, but that wouldn't be safe for me or you either. Cut this section clean out--it's been tough on you, anyway. You can make a livin'. You've got a great head on you for learnin'--I've heard plenty o' sensible folk say so. Good-by.” They parted. Hoag went deliberately toward the constantly growing group where Jeff Warren had fallen. He had almost reached it when he met Aunt Dilly, who had been anxiously inquiring for him. She was whimpering and wiping her eyes on her apron. “Oh, Marse Hoag,” she cried, “I'se been searchin' fer you everwhar. Dey want you up at de house right off.” “Want me? What's the matter?” “I dunno, suh; but Miz Hoag drapped off ter sleep-like in 'er chair, en her ma cayn't wake 'er up. Cato done run fer de doctor. Suppen's wrong, suh, suppen powerful wrong. Hit don't look lak des er faintin' spell.” Hoag stifled an oath of impatience, glanced at the silent group, hesitated a moment, and then turned homeward. At the gate he saw Mrs. Tilton waving her hands wildly in a signal for him to hurry. “She's dead!” she sobbed. “She's growing cold.” Hoag passed through the gate which she held open. “Keep the baby away,” he said. “There is no use lettin' 'im look at her. He's too young to--to see a thing like that.” II CHAPTER I |SEVEN years passed. It was early summer.