ough she was by no means confident that she could do anything
of the sort. She was already faint and almost sick, and whether she
could live till morning or not was an undetermined question in her
mind. To tell the truth, Sam himself felt but little confidence in his
device. The spoiled meat, he knew, would attract only the larger
animals, and such dead-falls as Tom could set were by no means certain
to kill these in their fall. It was the very best thing he could do,
however, and he must trust to it in the absence of any better reliance.
He concealed his anxiety therefore, and after receiving Tom's report of
his operations in dead-fall setting, he drew Judie to his side and told
her a fairy story, as night fell. All went to sleep at last, and when
morning came Sam aroused Tom very early and sent him to examine the
traps. The boy was gone for an hour or more, when he returned with
downcast countenance. Two of the traps had been thrown, but there was no
game under them, while the four others remained undisturbed.

Here was a bad out-look certainly, and they had not tasted food now for
more than thirty hours!

CHAPTER XVIII.

WHICH ENDS THE STORY.

"Something must be done," said Sam, as soon as he had heard Tom's
report, "and quickly too. Let me think a few minutes. We are beginning
now to be hungry enough to eat anything, and when people get that hungry
there are a good many things that can be eaten. I'll tell you what we
must do, Tom--"

But what it was that Sam had hit upon, Tom never knew. Just as this
point in the conversation was reached _Joe_ came running in through the
alley-way, his face flattened out into a broad grin of delight, his
teeth and eyes shining, while he danced all over the fortress, shaking
hands over and over again, and saying,

"Hi! Miss Judie! Hi! Mas' Tom! Hi! Mas' Sam! How does ye all do now? Did
you think Joe had runned away? Joe tell ye he never runned away. Joe
ain't no runaway nigger, nohow at all, and de Ingins ain't ketched Joe
nuther. Joe's back all safe an' sound, sartin sure! Hi!"

"What on earth ails you, Joe? You're out of your wits, poor fellow,"
said Sam, convinced that the black boy was demented.

"No I ain't nuther, Mas' Sam," he replied. "Joe ain't crazy one bit, but
he's glad _sure_."

"Where have you been, Joe, since you left us?"

"Whar? Why to de fort, an' I'se dun brung back a rescue too, didn't I
tell you? Laws a massy, dat's what I comed in fust for to