le sneaking cuss!" cried Uncle Sammy, who believed in settling
all difficulties by bloodshed as befitted a veteran of the first war
with England, he having risen to the respectable rank of sergeant in a
company of Morgan's riflemen; while at sixty-odd in '12, when there was
recruiting at the Cross Roads, his son had only been able to prevent his
tendering his services to his country by hiding his trousers. "Fetch his
rifle, some of you fool women!" cried Uncle Sammy. "By the Fayetteville
Road, Bob, not ten minutes ago--you can cut him off at Ox Road forks!"

Yancy breathed a sigh of relief. The situation was not entirely
desperate, for, as Uncle Sammy said, he could reach the Ox Road forks
before Blount possibly could, by going as the crow flies through the
pine woods.

"Hit wouldn't have happened if there'd been a man on the Hill, but there
was nothing but a passel of women about the place. I heard the boys
crying when Dave Blount lifted your nevvy into the buggy," said Uncle
Sammy; "all I could do was to cuss him across two fields. I hope you
blow his hide full of holes!" for a rifle had been placed in Yancy's
hands.

"Thank you-all kindly," said Yancy, and turning away he struck off
through the pine woods. A brisk walk of twenty minutes brought him to
the Ox Road forks, as it was called, where he could plainly distinguish
the wheel and hoof marks left by the buggy and team as it went to
Scratch Hill, but there was only the single track.

This important point being settled, sense of sweet peace stole in upon
Yancy's spirit. He stood his rifle against a tree, lit his pipe with
flint and steel, and rested comfortably by the wayside. He had not long
to wait, for presently the buggy hove in sight; whereupon he coolly
knocked the ashes from his pipe, pocketed it, and prepared for action.
As the buggy came nearer he recognized his ancient enemy in the person
of the man who sat at Hannibal's side, and stepping nimbly into the road
seized the horses by their bits. At sight of him Hannibal shrieked his
name in an ecstasy of delight.

"Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob--" he, cried.

"Yes, it's Uncle Bob. You can light down, Nevvy. I reckon you've rid far
enough," said Yancy pleasantly.

"Leggo them horses!" said Mr. Blount, recovering somewhat from the
effect of Yancy's sudden appearance.

"Light down, Nevvy," said Yancy, still pleasantly. Blount turned to the
boy as if to interfere. "Don't you put the weight of yo' finger on the