on't jump on you an' make the'r
disappearance in broad daylight. This is my fust trip to this great
town, an' it'll be my last ef I know myself, an' I ruther reckon I do."

As he spoke, his team Was moving slowly off, and the soldiers who were
in pursuit of Gabriel had no idea that it was worth their while to give
the countryman and his superannuated equipment more than a passing
glance. It was providential that Captain Falconer, who was to have
conveyed the prisoners to Atlanta, should have been confined to his bed
with an attack of malarial fever when the order for their removal came.
The Captain would surely have recognised the countryman as Mr. Sanders,
and the probability is that Gabriel would have been recaptured, though
Captain Buck Sanford, who was sitting in an upper window of the hotel,
with his Winchester across his lap, says not.

The officer in charge did all that he could have been expected to do
under the circumstances. By a stroke of good-luck, as he supposed, he
found the Chief of Police near the entrance of the station and
interested that official in his effort to recapture the prisoner who had
escaped. By order of the military commander in Atlanta, the train was
held a couple of hours while the search for Gabriel proceeded. The whole
town was searched and researched, but all to no purpose. Gabriel had
disappeared, and was not to be found by any person hostile to his
interests.

Mr. Sanders drove his team around to the warehouse of Vardeman & Stark,
where he was met by Colonel Tom Vardeman, who, besides being a cotton
factor, was one of the political leaders of the day, and as popular a
man as there was in the State.

"I heard a terrible fusillade in the direction of the depot," he said to
Mr. Sanders, as the latter drove up. "I hope nobody's hurt."

"Well, they ain't much damage done, I reckon. Gus Tidwell an' Major
Perdue took a notion to play a game of tag wi' pistols. They're doin' it
jest for fun, I reckon. They want to show you city fellers that all the
public sperrit an' enterprise ain't knocked out'n the country chaps."

"Well, they're almost certain to get in the lock-up," remarked Colonel
Tom Vardeman.

"It reely looks that away," said Mr. Sanders, drily; "the Chief of
Police was standin' in front of the depot, an' ev'ry time a gun'd go off
he'd wink at me."

Colonel Tom laughed, and then turned to Mr. Sanders with a serious air.
"What did I tell you about that wild plan of yours to