Dan set his lips. “My God, I can't think of anything else.” There was a moment's silence. “Here,” said Dan, thrusting his hands into his pockets. “I am going to give you what money I have. It isn't much.” “What for, Dannie?” “You are sure to be seen and recognized if you stay about here. Your description has been telegraphed all over the State. For that reason I'll take you with me part way. Then I'll slow up, and you can hide again. It's your only chance. I am sorry I can't do more for you. I wish I could; but perhaps we can arrange to meet afterwards.” His father smiled with the unconscious superiority of the man who firmly believes he is controlled by an intelligence infinitely wise and beyond all human conception. No amount of argument could have convinced him that Providence was not burning millions of feet of standing timber and an occasional town solely for his guidance. In his simple seriousness he saw nothing absurd nor preposterous in the idea. He said: “I've wanted to escape, Dannie, for your sake, not for mine. But when I seen you to-night I knew the Lord intended we should keep together. He didn't bring us here for nothing. That ain't His way. There's no one to go with you but me, and you can't go alone.” “I can--I will!” And Dan swore under his breath. He realized that no word of his could move his father. He would carry his point, just as he always had. Durks came running along the platform from the dépôt. “It's no use,” shaking his head. “The wire's down. Say, you want to keep your eyes open for the freight. It may be on the siding at Parker's Run, and it may be on the main track.” Dan made a last appeal to his father. “Won't you listen to what I say?” sinking his voice to a hoarse whisper. “They'll hang you--do you hear? If ever they lay hands on you they will show no mercy!” It did not occur to him that his father would be returning under circumstances so exceptional that public sentiment might well undergo a radical change in his favor. Roger Oakley merely smiled as he answered, with gentle composure: “I don't think we need to worry about that. We are in His hands, Dannie,” and he raised his face to the heavens. Dan groaned. “Come, then,” he said aloud. “I'll throw the switch for you!” and the operator ran down the track. He was quite positive he should never see Oakley again, and he felt something akin to enthusiasm at the willing sacrifice of his life which he conceived him to be making. Father and son stepped to the engine. The old convict mounted heavily to his post, and Dan sprang after him, his hand groping for the throttle lever. There was the hiss of steam, and Joe cried from the darkness: “All right, come ahead!” And the engine, with its tender and two cars, began its hazardous journey. As they slipped past him, the operator yelled his good-bye, and Dan pushed open the cab window and waved his hand.