“Tie him,” the sheriff ordered, “while I git that gun. Give it to me, old man, or I'll take you to jail too.” It was yielded up--an old-time rifle--and the sheriff smashed it against the side of the chimney, throwing the remnants into the fire. “Lead on,” he said, and the young negro was taken outside. Quickly he was lifted on to a horse and tied there, while the former rider mounted behind one of his companions, and they rode out of the settlement into the woods. “Git into the shadows,” one said; “they might be fools enough to shoot.” Once in the road, the sheriff called a halt. “One of you must ride; back to Mr. Morris's place and collect the other search-parties, while we make for Pineville jail. Now, Abram, come on.” “I ent done nuttin', Mr. Parin, suh,” the negro urged. “I ent hot Mis' Morris.” “Who said anything 'bout Mrs. Morris?” was asked, sharply. The negro groaned. “You're hanging yourself, boy,” the sheriff said; “but since you know, where _is_ Mrs. Morris?” “I dun'no', suh.” “Why did you run away?” “'Kase I 'fraid Mr. Morris.” “What were you 'fraid of?” “'Kase Mis' Morris gone.” They were riding rapidly now, and the talk was jolted out. “Where'?” “I dun'no', suh, but I ent tech um.” “You're a damned liar.” “No, suh, I ent tech um; I des look at um.” “I'd like to gouge your eyes out!” cried one of the men, and struck him. “None o' that!” ordered the sheriff. “And you keep your mouth shut, Abram; you'll have time to talk on your trial.” “Blast a trial!” growled the crowd. “The rope's round his neck now,” suggested one, “and I see good trees at every step.” “Please, suh, gentlemen,” pleaded the shaking negro, “I ent done nuttin'.” “Shut your mouth!” ordered the sheriff again, “and ride faster. Day'll soon break.” “You're 'fraid Mr. Morris'll ketch us 'fore we reach the jail,” laughed one of the guard. And the sheriff did not answer. The eastern sky was gray when the party rode into Pineville, a small, straggling country town, and clattered through its one street to the jail. To the negro, at least, it was a welcome moment, for, with his feet tied under the horse, his hands tied behind his back, and a rope with a slip-knot round his neck, he had not found the ride a pleasant one. A misstep of his horse would surely have precipitated his hanging, and he knew well that such an accident would have given much satisfaction to his captors. So he uttered a fervent “Teng Gawd!” as he was hustled into the jail gate and heard it close behind him.