"Then don't lose your heads," replied Tom. He sat upright and sagged forward weakly. The strength seemed to flow suddenly from his body; his legs and arms felt flabby and useless. "Whew!" he exclaimed. "I'll have to do better than this. Weak as a baby!" Bracing himself on one arm, he flexed the other slowly. The negroes watched him. "Oh, Lor'!" wailed the older negro again. "Shut up!" said Tom. "O Lor'--der's horses on de road! Now der a-coming!" Tom listened and heard a faint clatter of hoofs, growing louder and louder. It stopped for a moment as the horsemen pulled up to round the bend into the Beecham's farm. Then a man yelled, "Hey, Beecham! Beecham! Hey, Beecham! Come down for a minute. This is Kirby talking. We're on a Yank hunt. Want you to help." There came a muffled response from the house, the yelling ceased and the night was quiet again. Tom found himself on his feet, without knowing how he managed to get up. He was clinging to the trunk of a tree for support. "Here, you," he said to the negroes. "They're after me. Take these blankets and get back to your huts. If they catch me they won't catch me here." Whimpering, the negroes scooped up the blankets. "Wait!" ordered Tom. "How about these clothes? Where're mine? If I'm caught in these things...." The negroes collected his clothes, which had been spread out to dry, and he changed rapidly. "Take everything and get back as quickly as you can. Come just as soon as it's daylight to be sure you haven't left anything. Tell Miss Marjorie that I've gone...." They jumped at the crackling of some underbrush near them. It was Marjorie. CHAPTER NINETEEN THE LAST DASH "Here we are, Marjorie." He went forward to meet her. "Thanks a thousand times for all you've done. You must go back now. I'm going on--so that they won't catch me here." "No, Tom, you can't go this way," she answered, crying. "I won't let you. Here!--Joe and Sam--put those things down and stay here. Oh, Tom, they'll surely catch you if you try it." She clutched his arm as though to hold him from running into the woods. "But, Marjorie, there's nothing we can do," he protested. "Please go back. Don't you see what it'll mean if I'm found near here? If I had my horse, the one I sent back from the ferry that day...." "It's in the far pasture--three miles away," she answered. "Kirby'll have the whole country looking for you by the time we could get it. You'll have to stay here, Tom. I'll hide you in the house--Matty'll hide you over the kitchen. Let me do that for you--let me take the risk. Please!" "No! If they get me, they'll get me in the open. No, Marjorie. Go on back." "Then take a horse from the stable. Take my horse." "Yours?" "Yes. Uncle gave him to me, and I give him to you. You must...." "But they'll know...." "No, they won't...." "But tomorrow when they find...."