Soon he came to a clearing, in the middle of which stood a rough log house. There was a light burning in the house, and before it a horse stood saddled and bridled, and Harry noticed that a shotgun lay across the saddle. Though he knew it was risky he determined to stop and find out where he was and to inquire the shortest way to Palmyra. Hitching his horse and telling Bruno to keep out of sight, but near him, he carefully made his way to the house. He soon became satisfied it was tenanted only by a man and woman; if there were children they were asleep. The man kept coming to the door and looking out as if he expected some one. Harry saw he was a sinister looking fellow, and that he wore a belt which held in place a huge revolver. Harry waited until the man had closed the door after one of his visits, and then marching boldly up he gave a short rap. The door was immediately opened and the man he had seen exclaimed, "Hello, Steve, yo' un air late." When he saw Harry he stopped and his hand went to his belt, "Who be yo' un," he growled, "and what do yo' un want?" "Don't be alarmed, pard," laughed Harry. "I reckon yo' un and I air in the same class. I'm from Shelby an' on my way to join Porter. Yo' un knows we 'uns air to make it hot for the Yanks in Palmyra. I have lost my way, an' want to know whar I kin find the direct road to Palmyra." "Yo' un only have to foller the trail to the branch, cross it and yo' un will strike the main road. But I kalkerlate to have a hand in that little job at Palmyra myself. Have three or four debts to pay, one agin old Allsman. He reported me to McNeil as a dangerous char'ter. He'll never peach agin if I lay hands on him." "Thank yo' un. I'll be goin'," said Harry, "or I'm afraid I'll be late." "Hold on, pard," said the man. "I be jest waitin' for Steve and Sol Jones. We 'uns will all go together." "Sorry I can't wait. I must be goin'," replied Harry, turning to go. "Stop!" cried the man, hoarsely. Harry wheeled, his hand on his revolver. "Better not," drawled the man, with a grin. "The old woman has you kivered and she's a dead shot." Harry glanced up. Sure enough the woman, a gaunt, muscular virago, stood in the door, a rifle at her shoulder, and Harry saw that he could look right into the muzzle. "Ha! Ha!" chuckled the fellow, "yo' un didn't count on that, did yo' un? Fact is, I didn't take to yo' un's story and I giv' the old woman a sign to look out. If yo' un be from Shelby, how'd it happen yo' un got in this timber along the branch. Yo' un may be all right, and if yo' un air it will be no hurt for yo' un to wait and go with we 'uns. Thar, stop fingering that thar revolver, or I'll giv' the old woman the wink. Better up with yo' hands. Thar, I heah Steve and Sol comin'. If yo' un don't prove all right, we 'uns will have a hangin' bee before we 'uns start. Hands up, I tell yo' un."