"Hold on!" cried a voice from the rubbish heap, "I ain't no wildcat!" The voice was shrill and sharp with terror, but I knew it instantly for that of Jacob Horton. The rifle slipped unheeded from my nerveless hand, while Guard, since there was evidently to be no shooting, resumed his former post and growled menacingly. "Why--why," I stammered, "if you are not a wildcat--if you are a man--I thought you had gone to town!" "Gone to town!" the voice, losing its tone of terror, degenerated into a snarl. "I've been here all night. I've met up with an accident. I'm pinned down under a log, and that infernal dog of yours has stood and growled at me all night; I ain't dared to say my soul was my own." "I don't believe that any one else would care to claim it." The words broke from me involuntarily. I had the grace to feel ashamed the minute they were spoken. Guard's prisoner answered my unfeeling observation with a groan, and I looked reproachfully at Guard, who returned the look with a hopeful glance of his bright eye and wagged his tail cheerfully. I think that he quite expected to receive orders to go in and drag his fallen enemy out to the light of day. Realizing that as a general thing Guard understood his own business I forbore to reproach him, at the moment, for having treed or grounded Mr. Horton. "Are you badly hurt?" I inquired, falling on my knees before the crevice, and trying to catch a glimpse of the victim of an accident. "I do' no's I'm hurt in none of my limbs," was the cautious reply, "but I'm covered with bruises, and I'm pinned fast. I couldn't 'a' got away if I hadn't been, for that brute was determined to have my life. Turn about's fair play; we'll see how he comes out after this!" Clearly, the victim's temper had not been improved by the night's adventures, and it was easy to see that he had made almost no effort at all to escape from a position which, although certainly uncomfortable, had the great advantage of keeping the dog at bay. I thought of the Land Office in Fairplay and of the business that was probably being transacted there at that moment, and resolved to give Guard the whole of the roast that was left over from yesterday's dinner when we reached home again. "Ain't you even goin' to try to help me? Goin' to let me lay here an' die?" demanded the angry voice from under the ruins. "Oh, no, certainly not. I'll try to help you out. I guess you've been here long enough," I replied, cheerfully. "Huh! I should think I had been here long enough. This night's work'll prob'ly cost me thousands of dollars--but I'll have that whelp's life when I do git out; that's one comfort."