"No, we are not in need of anything, thank you. Good night, and pleasant dreams," my companion called out. "Good night," the jailer answered; and closing and fastening the door, went away. When he was gone we lay for some time without speaking, until at last the robber, springing up, called out: "Hello! young man, are you asleep?" "No; how could I be?" I answered, starting to my feet. "I thought you looked a little tired when you came in to-night, that is all. Well, now for another try," and with that he placed the bench beneath the opening, and standing on it as before, climbed into the loft, lifting me after him. "Now for the roof; and as the hole is big enough to push a washtub through, there is no occasion for making any more noise. Let me help you," and with the words he lifted me through the opening, climbing up himself a moment later. Descending to the eaves without loss of time, he took my hands and lowered me the length of his arm, when, letting go his hold, I dropped to the ground. Inquiring if I was all right, he did not wait, but following, alighted without harm. At this moment, when we thought ourselves free, the dog again set up a dreadful barking, running out into the moonlight within a few feet of where we lay prostrate in the weeds. "We’re lost," I whispered, seeing no way of returning to the room we had left; but placing his hand over my mouth the robber bade me keep my peace. A moment later the jailer came to the door of his hut, but after looking about for a while and yawning, called to the dog, and turning about, reëntered his house. For a long time we lay motionless, afraid to move, until everything being quiet again, we made our way on our hands and knees to the forest, some way off. Here, regaining our feet, we hurried on for a mile or more without speaking, until at last coming to an opening in the trees, we stopped in the bright moonlight and looked into each other’s faces. "Fox," I exclaimed, seeing him now clearly for the first time. "Fox! how do you know that?" he asked, surprised, starting back. "I know, for I was with Mr. Lincoln when you sought to rob the stage." "Good Lord! what are you saying?" he exclaimed, with a scared look. "Yes, and I heard you promise him you’d change your ways," I answered, angrily, thinking of Mr. Lincoln and the sorrow he would feel at Fox’s want of good faith a second time. "Oh, I remember you well enough now; and, my God, I meant what I said, too!" "Then why didn’t you carry out your promise?" I asked.