the
window was reached he paused once more to listen, but the quiet that was
everywhere throughout the house gave him confidence. He straddled the
low sill, and putting out his hand gripped the stock of his rifle and
drew that ancient weapon toward him. Next he secured his pack, and was
ready for flight.

Encumbered by his belongings, but with no mind to sacrifice them, he
stepped out upon the shed and made his way down the slant of the roof
to the eaves. He tossed his bundle to the ground and going down on his
knees lowered his rifle, letting the muzzle fall lightly against the
side of the shed as it left his hand, then he lay flat on his stomach
and, feet first, wriggled out into space. When he could no longer
preserve his balance, he gave himself a shove away from the eaves and
dropped clear of the building.

As he recovered himself he was sure he heard a door open and close, and
threw himself prone on the ground, where the black shadow cast by the
tavern hid him. At the same moment two dark figures came from about a
corner of the building. He could just distinguish that they carried
some heavy burden between them and that they staggered as they moved.
He heard Slosson curse drunkenly, and a whispered word from Murrell. The
two men slowly crossed the truck patch, and the boy's glance followed
them, his eyes starting from his head. Just at the mouth of the lane
they paused and put down their burden; a few words spoken in a whisper
passed between them and they began to drag some dark thing down the
lane, their backs bent, their heads bowed and the thing they dragged
bumping over the uneven ground.

They passed out of sight, and breathless and palsied, Hannibal crept
about a corner of the tavern. He must be sure! The door of the bar stood
open; the lamps were still burning, and the upturned chairs and a broken
table told of the struggle that had taken place there. The boy rested
his hand on the top step as he stared fearfully into the room. His palm
came away with a great crimson splotch. But he was not satisfied yet.
He must be sure--sure! He passed around the building as the men had
done and crossed the truck patch to the mouth of the lane. Here he slid
through the fence into the corn-field, and, well sheltered, worked his
way down the rows. Presently he heard a distant sound--a splash--surely
it was a splash--.

A little later the men came up the lane, to disappear in the direction
of the tavern. Hannibal peered