odic burst of energy,
and now I had come to the last stretch, the ragged patch of weeds,
exhausted. I tried to call my friend, but my throat was parched and I
could not raise my voice above a whisper, and as my head barely lifted
over the wild growth of his farm, he smoked on, unconscious of my
presence. Something in a distant tree-top engaged his attention,
something vastly interesting, it seemed to me, for he never turned my
way to see my waving hand. So I struggled to my feet and staggered on.
At last he heard me, sprang up, and came striding over the clearing.
Then my tired legs crumpled up; I sat down suddenly and, supported by
my sprawling hands, waited for him.

"Davy--Davy Malcolm," he cried, "who has been chasing you now?"

"A warrant!" I gasped. "Mr. Lukens, he is coming with a warrant to
arrest you!"

The tall form bent over me and I was raised to my feet. Supporting me
in his strong grasp, he held me off from him, and for a moment regarded
me with grave eyes.

"And you've come to warn me, eh, Davy?" he said.

"Yes, sir," I answered. "Mr. Pound he thinks you are a dangerous man.
Mr. Pound he wants to get you out of the valley. Mr. Pound he----"

The Professor seemed to have little fear of Mr. Pound and as little
interest in him. "Never mind the learned Doctor Pound," he exclaimed,
and his mouth twitched in a smile inspired by the mere thought of the
minister. "The point is, Davy, that you left home before daylight to
tell me, and you must have run nearly all the way--eh, boy?"

"I had to," I panted. "You see, Mr. Lukens he was to come here early
for you, and I thought if I was in time you might run away."

To run away seemed to me the only thing for the Professor to do, and I
expected that at the mere mention of the terrible Lukens he would
scurry to the mountain-top as fast as his legs would carry him. Yet he
held the constable in as little terror as he did Mr. Pound, for instead
of fleeing he drew me to him, and held me in an embrace so tight as to
make me struggle for breath and freedom.

"Davy, Davy!" he cried; "you understand me, boy. You are a friend, a
real friend--my only friend."

Again and again he said it--that I was his only friend--and not until I
cried out that I had had no breakfast and would he please not squeeze
me so tight did he release me, and then it was to keep fast hold on my
arm and lead me to the house. Penelope had heard us and met us
half-way, running, halti