t himself to indulge
in the midst of so much peril and so many enemies. As soon as the door
closed behind the sire and the son, he rose from his reclining posture,
and hastened to reconnoiter the position. The enemy--for such he was
fully assured his host was--passed through the entry and out the door at
the back of the house, as Somers discovered from the noise of their
retreating footsteps.

There was a window in the rear of the room, which commanded a full view
of them as they paused near the door to consider the situation. Somers
raised the sash a little, so that he could hear what they said, not
doubting that his own case would be the subject of the conversation.

"Don't you do it, dad," protested Tom in answer to some proposition which
the farmer had made before the listener came within hearing distance of
them.

"Don't yer be skeert, Tom. The feller's gone ter sleep in there, and the
soldiers kin hurry him off afore he wakes up. Don't yer see, Tom? I
reckon the Yank's an officer, and they'll give me suthin handsome fur
ketchin him."

"Yes; but, dad, they'll get suthin handsome fur ketchin me too."

"You kin hide, as yer allers does when they comes."

"But the Yank will blow on me."

"What if he does?"

"He'll tell 'em I'm up chimley, and then they'll look fur me."

"Tom, ye're a bigger fool'n yer father!" said the farmer petulantly.
"Can't yer hide in t'other place down suller?"

"It looks kinder skeery, dad," replied the doubtful son.

"Yer used ter hide down suller more'n yer did up chimley. But don't yer
see, Tom, arter I've called in the soldiers, and give up the Yank,
they'll think I'm a patriot, and won't b'leeve nothin' a dirty Yank can
say agin' me."

"Well, dad, I hate the Yank as bad as you do; but yer must be keerful."

"Now go and see that the feller don't wake up and run off, and I'll go
down arter a sergeant and half a dozen men. When yer hear us comin', just
step down suller'n crawl inter the drean. Git the feller's pistol out of
his pocket, if yer kin, while he's asleep."

"What a precious old scoundrel that man is!" thought Somers, as he
retreated from the window, and threw himself on the floor where the
farmer had left him.

He almost regretted that he had not used his pistol on the treacherous
old villain, who had made a fair bargain with him, and agreed to the
terms of the contract. The wretch had actually gone after the soldiers to
entrap him, and Tom was to remain and keep