hing in the branches of a large tree; but he came down with
some force, however,--more than was at all agreeable or convenient.

"Lord help us, they are perfect devils!" said Marks, heading the retreat
down the rocks with much more of a will than he had joined the ascent,
while all the party came tumbling precipitately after him,--the fat
constable, in particular, blowing and puffing in a very energetic
manner.

"I say, fellers," said Marks, "you jist go round and pick up Tom, there,
while I run and get on to my horse to go back for help,--that's you;"
and, without minding the hootings and jeers of his company, Marks was as
good as his word, and was soon seen galloping away.

"Was ever such a sneaking varmint?" said one of the men; "to come on his
business, and he clear out and leave us this yer way!"

"Well, we must pick up that feller," said another. "Cuss me if I much
care whether he is dead or alive."

The men, led by the groans of Tom, scrambled and crackled through
stumps, logs and bushes, to where that hero lay groaning and swearing
with alternate vehemence.

"Ye keep it agoing pretty loud, Tom," said one. "Ye much hurt?"

"Don't know. Get me up, can't ye? Blast that infernal Quaker! If it
hadn't been for him, I'd a pitched some on 'em down here, to see how
they liked it."

With much labor and groaning, the fallen hero was assisted to rise; and,
with one holding him up under each shoulder, they got him as far as the
horses.

"If you could only get me a mile back to that ar tavern. Give me a
handkerchief or something, to stuff into this place, and stop this
infernal bleeding."

George looked over the rocks, and saw them trying to lift the burly
form of Tom into the saddle. After two or three ineffectual attempts, he
reeled, and fell heavily to the ground.

"O, I hope he isn't killed!" said Eliza, who, with all the party, stood
watching the proceeding.

"Why not?" said Phineas; "serves him right."

"Because after death comes the judgment," said Eliza.

"Yes," said the old woman, who had been groaning and praying, in her
Methodist fashion, during all the encounter, "it's an awful case for the
poor crittur's soul."

"On my word, they're leaving him, I do believe," said Phineas.

It was true; for after some appearance of irresolution and consultation,
the whole party got on their horses and rode away. When they were quite
out of sight, Phineas began to bestir himself.

"Well, we must go down and