"Wa'al howdy, stranger," began the old man with a full volumed heartiness, then he added swiftly under his breath and with almost as little movement of his lips as a ventriloquist. "Don't leave town withouten ye sees me fust--hit's urgent. Don't appear ter hev much speech with me in public. Meet me at ther Farmers' Bank--upsta'rs--one hour hence." Jerry Henderson recognized the whispered message as a warning which it would be foolhardiness to ignore. Probably even as he received it he was under surveillance, so instead of setting out at once on foot, he waited and at the appointed time strolled with every appearance of unconcern into the Farmers' Bank. At the same time Black Tom Carmichael happened in to have a two-dollar bill changed into silver, and overheard the cashier saying in a matter-of-fact voice, "Thar's been some little tangle in yore balance, Mr. Henderson. Would ye mind steppin' up to the directors' room an' seein' ef ye kin straighten it out with the bookkeeper. She's up thar." With a smile of assent Henderson mounted the narrow stairs and Black Tom lighted his pipe and loafed with inquisitive indolence below. CHAPTER XII Instead of a puzzled accountant Jerry found in the bare upper room the rosy-faced, white-haired man who had given him credentials when he first arrived in the hills, and who kept the store over on Big Ivy. "I come over hyar on my way ter Knoxville ter lay me in a stock of winter goods," volunteered the storekeeper, "an' I 'lowed I'd tarry an' hev speech with ye afore I fared any further on." As he spoke he tilted back his chair, and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. Henderson lifted his brows in interrogation and the storekeeper proceeded with deliberate emphasis. "Somebody, I hain't found out jest who--aims ter hev ye lay-wayed on yore trip acrost ther mounting. I felt obleeged ter warn ye." "Have me way-laid," repeated Jerry blankly, "what for?" Uncle Israel shook his silvery poll. "I hain't hardly got ther power ter answer thet," he said, "but thar's right-smart loose talk goin' round. Some folks laments thet ye 'lowed ter teach profitable farmin' an' ye hain't done nothin'. They 'lows ye must hev some crooked projeck afoot. This much is all I jedgmatic'lly knows, Joe Campbell was over ter Hook Brewer's blind tiger, on Skinflint, last week. Some fellers got ter drinkin' an' talkin' aimless-like an' yore name come up. Somebody 'lowed thet yore tarryin' hyar warn't a-goin' ter be tolerated no longer, an' thet he knowed of a plan ter git ye es ye crossed ther mounting whilst Lone Stacy an' Bear Cat was both away. Joe, bein' a kinsman of mine an' Lone's, told me. Thet's all I knows, but ef I was you I wouldn't disregard hit." "What would you advise, Uncle Israel?" "Does ye plumb pi'ntedly _hev_ ter go over thar? Ye couldn't jest linger hyar in town twell ther night train pulls out an' go away on hit?"