Doby did not fancy entering that unknown forest where more miscreants might be lurking. But as his mother expected him to hold the flintlock ready for any danger they might meet, there was nothing for him to do but to swallow his doubts and to turn the horse in when they came to the trampled spot. More boldly than he felt, he peered about as they followed the line of disturbed branches into the heart of the forest. After a few rods, "O-o-oh!" murmured his mother, "o-o-oh!" with pity and indignation in her tone. Here was a jest! The best of all frontier tricks! The funniest thing a practical joker could imagine! In front of them, tied to a tree, was not the preacher's Bible, but the preacher himself, bound and gagged and left alone. The hour for his sermon was close at hand, yet here he was, silent and helpless, a mile from the meeting. Young huskies of the border considered it a fair game to bait the circuit-riders and to make it as difficult as possible for them to reach their hearers. If one baffled them and arrived at the appointed place on his circuit, they tried to keep him from preaching by all sorts of traps. Why not? they argued. He was a grown man. Let him take his chances in work and play, just as they did themselves. Doby leaped from the horse, whipped out his knife, and cut the thongs. The preacher, as he found himself released, rolled his eyes in a frenzy of excitement and exclaimed: "Behold! I prayed for help, and, lo! an angel of the Lord with his shining sword hath freed me from the bondage of sinners." The boy blushed awkwardly at the idea of acting the part of an angel. But privately he thought it not too much praise for his cherished knife. "No big, long sword could have done as good a job of snipping loose as this sharp stone knife did," he bragged to himself. To the mother's words of sympathy and further offers of help the preacher gave no heed. He cared nothing for his bodily hurts, nothing for his humiliation, nothing for himself. "I am a shepherd in the service of my Master. I must go to feed my lambs." [Illustration: DOBY WHIPPED OUT HIS KNIFE AND CUT THE THONGS] With immense nervous energy, even while they stood staring, he retrieved his horse, which had been stampeded farther into the wood. Then he fixed his rummaged saddle-bags, mounted, and galloped off, singing a hymn so loudly and triumphantly that it echoed in their ears like a battle-call. "His name is Lorenzo Dow. He is not afraid of man or devil," said the mother, half in praise, half in criticism of this great Methodist preacher. "His manner is strange beyond belief; yet he sways all hearts toward righteousness." "He is a lively one. They must have sneaked up on him, four to one, to get him," Doby guessed. Mother and son hurried after him and came to the top of the next hill in time to see him, at a mad run and yelling lustily, charge down upon his late captors as they crossed the valley.