"Now is our chance!" whispered Jack, as he tiptoed his way to the cave entrance. "Ben, you and I will pounce upon that man with the gun. Columbus, you silence the fellow sitting on the rock. We must not let them cry for aid." The negroes understood the plan, and in a moment more the party of three were upon the guerrillas. While Jack seized the gun of the one, Old Ben caught him from behind and placed a large hand over his mouth. "Silence, on your life!" said Jack, and leveled the gun at the rascal's head. The man understood and, when allowed to breathe, said not a word. To capture the half tipsy sentinel was likewise easy, and after both were disarmed they were ordered to enter the cave. "If you make the least outcry we'll come back and shoot you," said Jack. Then he motioned to the two negroes, and all three set off on a run down the mountain side. They heard a rifle shot to the right, and consequently moved to the left. The storm now burst over the mountains in all of its fury, with vivid flashes of lightning and sharp cracks of thunder. As they proceeded they heard the distant falling of one tree or another, as the giants of the forest were laid low by the elements. "I dun rackon da won't follow us in dis yeah storm," remarked Old Ben, as they stopped after a while, to catch their breath. "Da will be fo' gittin' back to de cabe an' stayin' dar." "I hope that traveler escaped them," answered Jack. "But those gun-shots sounded dubious." "De gorillas ought all to be hung!" came from Columbus Washington. "Da aint no sodgers, no matter if da do w'ar a uniform." "They are outlaws, pure and simple," answered Jack. "But come, we must go on. Ben, how far are we from home, do you calculate?" "Six or seben miles, Massah Jack." "Then we have a good, stiff walk before us." "Do yo' t'ink yo' can walk dat far, Massah Jack, in dis awful storm?" "I can, unless the rain sets in harder. I am anxious to get back, you know." "I don't blame yo' fo' dat, Massah Jack. De folks will be mighty glad to see yo', too," answered Old Ben. On they went through the darkness, Old Ben following the trail with the keenness of a sleuth-hound. But it was far from a pleasant journey, as Jack soon discovered, as he stumbled along over dirt and rocks and through the dripping bushes. He was soaked to the skin, and the rawness of the air caused him to shiver. The downpour was now extra heavy, and they had to come to a halt under some trees, in order to get their breath again. The wind was blowing strongly and it was directly in their faces. "How many miles have we made, Ben?" asked Jack. "Not more dan t'ree, Massah Jack?" "Then we have nearly four still to cover." "Yes, Massah Jack, an' wery hard roads, too, ober Hallack's hill." "If there was a cabin handy, I would go in for a rest of an hour or two. The storm may let up." "Da is a cabin down de trail, on de bend." "Then let us stop there."