Some of the men were sitting about on scattered blocks of rejected stone, left in the abandoned quarry years before when the abutment of a bridge had been built over a small, swift stream near by, but the great number of raiders stood in careless attitudes around the fire, talking or smoking. "Captain's late," one of the men in the foreground said. "I heard the ring of Black Devil's hoofs comin' up the hill just a moment ago," a raider answered. As he spoke, he thrust a fresh supply of brush into the fire, and briskly stirred the bed of embers until it glowed with sudden fervor, while a shower of sparks arose and fluttered into the night like a swarm of fireflies rudely disturbed. "Be saving of the brush," cautioned one of the raiders. "There may be officers of the law abroad tonight." "It is money to them if they bag us," answered the other, with an expressive shrug of the shoulders and a hoarse laugh. "There's a reward of two hundred dollars offered for information concerning the raiders, or night-riders, as some folks call us." "Perhaps some one's after it," suggested another. "And what good 'd the reward be? It would melt or burn where we'd send him." "Is it the gate at the stone bridge tonight?" "No, I have heard it's to be another--one more familiar to some of our members," the speaker continued, casting a furtive glance at a number of the band standing near. "Suppose it should be the pole of the New Pike gate, and Milt was chosen to do the cutting?" The man at the fire spoke tauntingly. "The pole of the New Pike gate won't be cut tonight, I'm thinking," said Derr quietly. "Not if the Captain commands it?" "No." "Listen, you fellows--hear what this man's sayin'!" "And what's more to the point, I'm willing to bet that he isn't going to insist on me cutting it, either," added Derr, glancing about him with a half-defiant air in which there was also the suggestion of a threat. Quickly the attention of the others was drawn to the speaker, who had unconsciously straightened to his full six feet, while the rich color in his cheeks, augmented by the ruddy glow of the firelight, deepened perceptibly, and quickly spread to his throat and neck, which were partly revealed in their robust outlines, where the heavy coat was thrown back to the warmth of the fire. "Any special reasons for not wantin' to cut down the pole of the New Pike gate?" asked one of the band, with a wink on the sly at his companions. "I have," answered Milt frankly and seriously. "One good reason I will state a little later, the other can be given right now. It seems a cowardly thing to do--the chopping down of a gate that's kept by two lone women. Now if it was a man, the case would be altogether different." "It ain't the women folks we've got the grudge ag'in," spoke up one of the men. "It's the graspin' turnpike companies back of 'em we're after." "Yes, but it's taking away the living of two worthy women," protested Derr.