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"Well,--yes,--he--he is,--with some."

I said one might respect religion even if he did not--

"Yes, bub," I replied. The two men laughed so explosively that my horse lifted his head austerely.

"Too tired?"

The dwelling was entirely dark. I came close in the bright moonlight and hallooed. At my second hail the door came a small way open, and after a brief parley a man's voice bade me put up my horse and come in. The stable was a few steps to the right and rear. Returning, I took care to notice the form of the house: a hall from front to rear; one front and one rear room on each side of it; above the whole a low attic, probably occupied by the slave housemaids.

The rifle cracked, but its ball sang over us; a shot answered it behind me; the howling man's voice died in a gurgle, and Sergeant Jim ran by me, leaped upon the horse that had stayed beside his fallen rider, and was off hot-footed after the other. "Turn your prisoner over to Kendall, Smith," he cried, "and put out like hell for Clifton!"

"Lieutenant, I--I wish I knew the whole of it."

"Why, the other one--the son. Lieutenant, is she that monster's wife?"

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