He no longer doubted that Betty and Hannibal had been taken across the
bayou to the cabin, and he ran back up the path the distance of a mile
and plunged into the woods on his right, his purpose being to pass
around the head of the expanse of sluggish water to a point from which
he could later approach the cabin. But the cabin proved to be better
defended than he had foreseen; and as he advanced, the difficulties of
the task he had set himself became almost insurmountable; yet sustained
as he was by his imperative need, he tore his way through the labyrinth
of trailing vines, or floundered across acre-wide patches of green slime
and black mud, which at each step threatened to engulf him in their
treacherous depths, until at the end of an hour he gained the southern
side of the clearing and a firmer footing within the shelter of the
woods.

Here he paused and took stock of his surroundings. The two or three
buildings Mr. Hicks had erected stood midway of the clearing and were
very modest improvements adapted to their owner's somewhat flippant
pursuit of agriculture. While Carrington was still staring about him,
the cabin door swung open and a woman stepped forth. It was the girl
Bess. She went to a corner of the building and called loudly:

"Joe! Oh, Joe!"

Carrington glanced in the direction of the keel boat and an instant
later saw Slosson clamber over its side. The tavern-keeper crossed to
the cabin, where he was met by Bess, who placed in his hands what
seemed to be a wooden bowl. With this he slouched off to one of the
outbuildings, which he entered. Ten or fifteen minutes slipped by,
then he came from the shed and after securing the door, returned to
the cabin. He was again met by Bess, who relieved him of the bowl; they
exchanged a few words and Slosson walked away and afterward disappeared
over the side of the keel boat.

This much was clear to the Kentuckian: food had been taken to some one
in the shed--to Betty and the boy!--more likely to George.

He waited now for the night to come, and to him the sun seemed fixed in
the heavens. At Belle Plain Tom Ware was watching it with a shuddering
sense of the swiftness of its flight. But at last the tops of the tall
trees obscured it; it sank quickly then and blazed a ball of fire beyond
the Arkansas coast, while its dying glory spread aslant the heavens,
turning the flanks of the gray clouds to violet and purple and gold.

With the first approach of darkness Ca