"All right then. Ther Stacys hev still got some power acrost Cedar Mounting an' they aims ter exercise hit. I'll straightway send a letter ter my brother, Joe Stacy. Ef ye gits offen ther train in Marlin Town one week from terday, he'll be thar ter meet ye--an' he'll hev enough men thar with rifle-guns ter see ye through safe--an' hold ye safe, too." "Joe Stacy," repeated Henderson, "I've never met him, have I?" "I don't hardly believe ye hes. He dwells on Skinflint, but he'll know _you_ when he sees ye." Later that same day the turnkey, who had from time to time received certain courtesies from Mark Tapper, repeated the conversation to that officer, and within forty-eight hours a messenger relayed it verbally to Kinnard Towers. "Ef thar's any way ter head off thet letter ter Joe, now," reflected the backwoods master of intrigue, "an' thet bodyguard don't show up--I reckon we kin still compass what we failed in, ther first time." * * * * * To the house in Virginia where Bear Cat was temporarily established came Lew Turner, a distant kinsman on an enterprise of cattle trading. The meeting was a coincidence though a natural one, since their host was a man who had migrated from Little Slippery and had long been known to both. Shortly the two sat alone in conversation, and Bear Cat demanded news from home. "Wa'al thar hain't no welcome tidings ter give ye. They keeps puttin' off yore paw's trial jest ter frazzle him out, fer one thing," began the newcomer lugubriously. "Then Henderson come back from down below an' some fellers aimed ter lay-way him, so he sought refuge in Brother Fulkerson's dwellin'-house when ther preacher warn't thar. Blossom tuck him in outen charity an' the two of 'em spent ther night thar all alone by tharselves. Hit didn't become gin'rally known till after he'd got away safe, but then ther gossips started in tongue-waggin'." "Hold on, Lew! By God Almighty, ye've done said too much," Bear Cat broke out with a dangerous note of warning, his eyes narrowing into slits of menacing glitter. The man from home hastily hedged his statement. "Hit warn't no fashion Blossom's fault. He'd done faithfully promised ter wed with her." Bear Cat Stacy had risen eruptively out of his chair. He bent over the intervening table, resting on hands in which the knuckles stood out white. "Go on!" he commanded fiercely. "What next?" "Thet's erbout all, save thet since thet time she's done been pinin' round like somebody sickenin' ter her death. Es fer ther preacher, he just clamps his mouth shet an' won't say nothin' at all. Howsoever, he looks like he'd done been stricken." Bear Cat straightened up and passed a hand across his forehead. He was rocking unsteadily on his feet as he reached for his hat. "Whar air ye a-goin', Bear Cat?" asked the kinsman, with a sudden fear for the consequences of his narrative.