With a bound he sprung into the wheel. He escaped any severe blow, but, upon alighting he was tossed, and pitched, and tumbled over, until at last, catching upon the centre-bar, he held himself until he had made his calculation as to where his next jump should be. At last he ventured the hazardous leap, and was precipitated into the foaming waters beneath the wheel, which in its revolution struck him lightly, calling forth a grumble or a grunt. But Nettleton battled bravely with the rushing waters, and at length, half dead with suffocation, he crawled upon the bank as the burning rafters of the mill were falling around him. “Wal, I suppose Ingen is roasted alive, and I must do the work alone. I’m darn sorry. And I’ve lost my gun, too. But I ought to be glad that I didn’t lose myself. The villain, but won’t I roast him if ever I lay these hands on him!” Thus he muttered as he sat for a moment gazing upon the appalling spectacle before him. He then sprung up, and seeing the old woman, at once started for the cabin. Madge met him at the door. “Will you have my services, to tell you truly the fortune that is in store for you?” she asked. “Your services. Yaas; I’ll have you tell me all about affairs here in this quarter, and if you don’t own up every thing, I’ll put you in this pile of logs and roast you, as sure as you are a she woman. Do you understand?” “I have but little to reveal of the circumstances to which you refer. The Federal officer _was_ in the mill a prisoner, but escaped, in his delirium, and is now somewhere out in the mountain. Walker and the lady were in the mill, but are now out of reach, down stream. This is all I know.” “And it is enough. Now, you just fork over a good Minié musket—I know you have a dozen concealed here for the use of your friends, and all the fixins for settlin’ the hash of your friend, Captain Walker, for him and me has an account to fix what will require powder and lead, if this bread-cutter of mine don’t do the job,” he said, handling his bowie-knife. Madge only too well read in Nettleton’s face the resolute nature of the man, and with scarcely a moment’s hesitancy went out of the hut to a hollow tree near by, and produced from thence an armful of arms, made up of shot-guns, old-fashioned rifles, and a Minié musket. From these Nettleton selected, after careful scrutiny, a heavy double-barrel squirrel gun. Ammunition was also supplied by the woman without hesitancy, and the pursuer soon found himself equipped in a most formidable manner. “There, old gal, you have done the right thing. It is well that you did, for, as sure as lizards, I should have burned you in your pen if you hadn’t forked over what I know’d was in your possession. Now, good-by, and behave yourself. If the captain—my captain I mean—comes back to you, do you be kind to him, for I tell _you_ it is for your best interests to be so. Do you believe that?”