Being left to himself, Godfrey proceeded very leisurely to unharness the mule and detach him from the wagon. Just as the work was about to be completed, he heard the report of his son’s rifle away off in the woods. The sound had a strange effect upon him. His actions seemed to say that he had been waiting for it. Quickly dropping the harness, which he was on the point of hanging in its accustomed place, he seized the wooden pin that concealed the entrance to Dan’s hiding-place, and pulled it out. Then he took the packages from his pocket, one by one, and put them back in the opening just as he had found them--the powder first, the lead next, then the caps, and lastly the money; and when they were all in, he drove the pin back to its place and hung the harness upon it. He seemed to feel relieved after it was done. He drew a long breath, and started for the cabin to solace himself with a pipe, as he always did after he had exerted himself in any unusual degree. In half an hour the sun began to sink behind the trees on the opposite bank of the river, and then Godfrey’s scattered family began to come in, one after the other. First came his wife, who had been over to see a neighbor with whom she had been on visiting terms in better days. On her arm she carried a basket covered with a snow-white napkin. Godfrey’s eyes glistened at the sight of it. He had seen a good many such baskets carried into his house of late, and he knew that every time they came he and the rest of the family had something good to eat for a day or two. “Now, Godfrey, if you will chop some wood and start a fire, I’ll get some supper,” said his wife, cheerfully. The man took his pipe out of his mouth and groaned. Chopping wood was his pet aversion. “Didn’t used to be so in the good ole days, did it, Susie?” said he, with a long-drawn sigh. “I used to have plenty of niggers to do that ar mean work. Choppin’ wood ain’t gentleman’s work, Susie--no it ain’t!” “But somebody must do it, Godfrey,” said Mrs. Evans. “So they must; but I can’t seem to stoop to it, somehow. Here comes Dave. Make him do it.” “David is tired out, most likely. He’s been tramping through the fields all the afternoon.” “An’ hain’t I tired out too, I’d like to know?” exclaimed Godfrey. “Here I’ve been an’ hoofed it down to the landin’ an’ worked like a good fellow at that shootin’ match. Whew! It jest makes me ache all over to think of all I’ve been an’ done since dinner. ’Sides, Dave’s got no sort o’ right to go a trampin’ ’round the fields all the arternoon. He’d oughter be to hum straightenin’ up things. But it won’t be so long--not longer nor next week, nohow--kase that thar bar’l will----” “Now, Godfrey!” interrupted Mrs. Evans. “Now, ole woman!” retorted Godfrey. “I knew you didn’t mean what you said to-day at the dinner table,” said his wife, “and I wish you wouldn’t talk so before the boys.”