Hale did know that; so on they went quietly and hid their horses aside from the road near the place where Hale had fished when he first went to Lonesome Cove. There the Falin disappeared on foot. “Do you trust him?” asked Hale, turning to Budd, and Budd laughed. “I reckon you can trust a Falin against a friend of a Tolliver, or t'other way round--any time.” Within half an hour the Falin came back with the news that there were no signs that the fugitive had yet come in. “No use surrounding the house now,” he said, “he might see one of us first when he comes in an' git away. We'll do that atter daylight.” And at daylight they saw the fugitive ride out of the woods at the back of the house and boldly around to the front of the house, where he left his horse in the yard and disappeared. “Now send three men to ketch him if he runs out the back way--quick!” said the Falin. “Hit'll take 'em twenty minutes to git thar through the woods. Soon's they git thar, let one of 'em shoot his pistol off an' that'll be the signal fer us.” The three men started swiftly, but the pistol shot came before they had gone a hundred yards, for one of the three--a new man and unaccustomed to the use of fire-arms, stumbled over a root while he was seeing that his pistol was in order and let it go off accidentally. “No time to waste now,” the Falin called sharply. “Git on yo' hosses and git!” Then the rush was made and when they gave up the chase at noon that day, the sheriff looked Hale squarely in the eye when Hale sharply asked him a question: “Why didn't you tell me who that man was?” “Because I was afeerd you wouldn't go to Devil Judd's atter him. I know better now,” and he shook his head, for he did not understand. And so Hale at the head of the disappointed Guard went back to the Gap, and when, next day, they laid Mockaby away in the thinly populated little graveyard that rested in the hollow of the river's arm, the spirit of law and order in the heart of every guard gave way to the spirit of revenge, and the grass would grow under the feet of none until Rufe Tolliver was caught and the death-debt of the law was paid with death. That purpose was no less firm in the heart of Hale, and he turned away from the grave, sick with the trick that Fate had lost no time in playing him; for he was a Falin now in the eyes of both factions and an enemy--even to June. The weeks dragged slowly along, and June sank slowly toward the depths with every fresh realization of the trap of circumstance into which she had fallen. She had dim memories of just such a state of affairs when she was a child, for the feud was on now and the three things that governed the life of the cabin in Lonesome Cove were hate, caution, and fear.