"Sally Brown! I'm downright ashamed of you, that I am!" cried her mother sharply. "The idea of you takin' up for them miserable law-breakers, an' them tryin' to burn the very roof over our heads, an' take the daily bread out of our mouths. You must have gone clean daft." "I didn't say I thought they were right," persisted Sally. "I said it likely seemed so to them." "An' you got no cause to say even that," insisted Mrs. Brown, "you, that's dependin' on a livin' by takin' of the toll. It's nothin' short of downright treason!" CHAPTER XI. The girl had been dreading just such news as her mother had revealed, yet since the conversation with the Squire the day Sally had so unwillingly ridden with him from town, she had been hourly expecting it. Now that the ill news had really come, her present uneasiness was not altogether on her mother's account, nor her own. It was probable that her sweetheart was now affiliated with the band of raiders, yet if this was true, it seemed a little strange that the New Pike gate was the one to be attacked. When Sally sat down to her sewing a little later, after her various household duties had been attended to for the evening, her thoughts were very far removed from her present work, and she was much more troubled and perplexed in spirit and mind than she cared to show. At the time she had heard the talk between the Squire and his unknown informant, it was evident that Milton Derr had not then joined the raiders, but from the trend of that conversation it seemed likely he would soon become a member of the band. He was evidently debating the feasibility of joining them. Had he done so, and was he now powerless to change or divert their plans? It was not alone the news that the gate would be attacked which was troubling the girl, but the further information her mother had given that the plans of the raiders were known, and the Squire was even then in town organizing a posse to resist the attack and capture the band. Supposing her sweetheart was now a member of it, and some subtle intuition was urging her to such belief, what would be the outcome of it all? This then was the trap the Squire was adroitly laying for his nephew. She had warned Milt of the danger, but had he heeded? The band was probably composed of men he knew well, and was doubtless gathered from the ready material to be found among the rugged hills wherein he dwelt. There had ever seemed to exist among these people a certain wild spirit of adventure and reckless daring, which one naturally imbibed along with the very air of these free remote hills, and the Squire's nephew was of that restive nature too easily attracted by anything savoring of excitement or danger, such as these lawless escapades might readily furnish.