"Tear off that canvas!" demanded the leader, and as the covering of thin cotton was stripped from the bed, two or three of the horsemen rode up and down it, crushing the young plants and grinding them into the yielding soil, then a portion of the frame of the bed was dragged the entire length of the bed, scraping from its surface whatever plants had escaped the trampling iron hoofs. When this had been accomplished, the torn canvas was gathered up by the horsemen, and the silent guide ordered to lead the way to the tobacco barn. On reaching it, two of the riders dismounted and went within, carrying the cloth with them, but soon they reappeared. [Illustration: DRESSED IN HER HUSBAND'S CLOTHES, SHE LED THEM TO THE TOBACCO BARN.] "The barn is empty, the tobacco has been removed," they announced to the leader. "Empty, is it?" he answered with an oath, "then fix it so it will not shelter another crop." The men went inside again, and soon a dull light began to glimmer through the cracks between the boards, rapidly growing in brightness as the flames began to fasten over the dry surface of the wooden framework, aided and fed by the tobacco sticks that were being piled like fagots high upon the spreading blaze. Short tongues of flame leaped upward, and crept out here and there along the blazing walls, while spirals of copper-colored smoke began to uncoil into the night like fiery serpents, scattering myriads of sparks in their trail. The scene began to light up weirdly, throwing a ruddy glow against the sky, and bringing into sharp relief the surrounding objects. The horses and their masked riders stood boldly out like statues of ebony from the background of bright light. "Boys, give the dumper twenty-five lashes!" cried the leader. The two men afoot, who had fired the barn, started toward the motionless figure that had looked on helplessly and silently, keeping as much in the shadow as possible. Almost at this moment a slight commotion was heard in the direction of the barn-lot gate, and several masked men came through the gateway, bringing with them a prisoner. "Here is the dumper who has sold his tobacco!" they cried. "He is just getting in from delivering it. We took him off the wagon just now." "What fellow is this?" demanded the leader looking in the direction of the shrinking figure the two riders were about to lay hold upon. Sally, throwing back the heavy coat and pulling the slouch hat from her head, answered: "It is I. A woman." CHAPTER XXXIII. For a brief while only the crackle of the flames, eating their way through the dry oak framework of the barn, disturbed the silence that followed this unexpected declaration, then a murmur of surprise ran from horseman to horseman, while Milt broke into astonished speech: "Why, Sally, what are you doing dressed up in my clothes?"