"Mother's told him that he might overtake me," she muttered, grimly smiling at the thought. "I'll see that he don't," she added, resolutely. She stood for a few moments debating the situation, then looked toward the town. The distance was but half traveled, and the Squire must certainly overtake her before her destination was reached. There was a smaller hill beyond, and toward this she now set out briskly, fully determined to cover as much of the way as possible, so that, if finally overtaken, the ride would prove but a short one at best. When she reached the brow of the second hill the Squire was lost to sight behind the first one, and just then a plan of escape happily suggested itself as she reached a low stone wall running for some distance along one side of the road. She lightly climbed the moss-covered stones and crouched down behind them in a clump of golden-rod, waiting in covert until the Squire should pass. Soon she heard an approaching vehicle, which she knew to be the Squire's from the familiar joggle of loose bolts, and close upon its coming another sound fell on her alert ear, as if a horseman were riding from the direction of the town. The person on horseback and Squire Bixler met and came to a halt in the middle of the road, almost in front of that portion of the stone wall behind which the girl had taken refuge. After the exchange of a brief greeting, the Squire said, abruptly: "Well, what progress have you made? Any?" "Well, Squire, I think he's goin' to jine," answered the horseman, in the peculiar drawling tones suggestive of the hill country, whose boundary lay purple and hazy along the distant horizon. "You _think_ he is?" cried the Squire impatiently, with a ripping oath. "What do you _know_ about it?" "That when I see him again he is to tell me if he's made up his mind to come to the next meetin' place. If he does, of course, he'll jine the band." "And what does the band propose doing?" asked the Squire. "To git free roads." "How?" "Not by waitin' on the courts; the people have tried that long enough. They're goin' to take things into their own hands a bit. They mean business." "Yes, and damn 'em, they'll find that others mean business, too!" retorted the Squire, impetuously. "However, keep your eyes and ears open, and you'll soon hear the jingle of money in your pockets." "I'll try to keep you posted, but it's risky business for me." "You're all safe," insisted the Squire, "and you're sure of good pay. I'd like to get the young rascal in the clutches of the law," added the speaker, with sudden vindictiveness, "and if ever I do, I'll promise to make it hot for him." "You can trap him before a great while, I think, or at least get him in so tight a place that it will be safer for him to leave this part of the country." "Well, if I can't run him to ground, I'd at least like to run him away," admitted the Squire, frankly.