d where Murrell had caught
his first sight of them, Yancy glanced back at the blue wall of the
mountains where it lay along the horizon.

"Well, Nevvy," he said, "we've put a heap of distance between us and old
Scratch Hill; all I can say is, if there's as much the other side of
the Hill as there is this side, the world's a monstrous big place fo' to
ramble about in." He carried his rifle and a heavy pack. Hannibal had a
much smaller pack and his old sporting rifle, burdens of which his Uncle
Bob relieved him at brief intervals.

For the past ten days their journey had been conducted in a leisurely
fashion. As Yancy said, they were seeing the world, and it was well to
take a good look at it while they had a chance. He was no longer fearful
of pursuit and his temperament asserted itself--the minimum of activity
sufficed. Usually they camped just where the night overtook them; now
and then they varied this by lodging at some tavern, for since there
was money in his pocket, Yancy was disposed to spend it. He could not
conceive that it had any other possible use.

Suddenly out of the silence came the regular beat of hoofs. These grew
nearer and nearer, and at last when they were quite close, Yancy faced
about. He instantly recognized Murrell and dropped his rifle into the
crook of his arm. The act was instinctive, since there was no reason to
believe that the captain had the least interest in the boy. Smilingly
Murrell reined in his horse.

"Why--Bob Yancy!" he cried, in apparent astonishment.

"Yes, sir--Bob Yancy. Does it happen you are looking fo' him, Captain?"
inquired Yancy.

"No--no, Bob. I'm on my way West. Shake hands." His manner was frank and
winning, and Yancy met it with an equal frankness.

"Well, sir, me and my nevvy are glad to meet some one we've knowed
afore. The world are a lonesome place once you get shut of yo'r own
dooryard," he said. Murrell slipped from his saddle and fell into step
at Yancy's side as they moved forward.

"They were mightily stirred up at the Cross Roads when I left, wondering
what had come of you," he observed.

"When did you quit there?" asked Yancy.

"About a fortnight ago," said Murrell. "Every one approves of your
action in this matter, Yancy," he went on.

"That's kind of them," responded Yancy, a little dryly. There was no
reason for it, but he was becoming distrustful of Murrell, and uneasy.

"Bladen's hurt himself by the stand he's taken it this matter," Murrel