heard approaching, and a small
Ethiopian made his appearance over the back fence, yelling for help and
the Madam in the same breath.

"The Madam's done gone away fum heah, an' lef me in charge," said Lige,
grandly. "Whut kin I do fer you, young chile?"

A window opened in the house. "What's the matter, Lige? What's Caesar
Jackson yelling that way for?" demanded Jacqueline, who knew by name
every creature, on two legs or four, in the county.

"Hit's de Riders!" gasped Caesar Jackson. "De Riders is comin'!"

"Here? Nonsense! Why should Night Riders come to Storm? They wouldn't
dare!" But she thought suddenly of Mag Henderson, and her jaw set.

"I yeared 'em, Miss Jacky! I hid behine a tree an' seed 'em pass with
dey false-faces on!" The little negro shivered with that superstitious
awe which had made the Ku-Klux Klan possible. "Dey 'lowed dey was
a-gwine ter git old man Henderson."

Jacqueline gave a quick breath of relief. "Then they're too late. He has
gone. Mother sent him word to leave the cabin last night. They won't
find him."

"Yes'm, dey will, kase I seed 'im! I snuck erlong 'cross de fiel', an'
dey was a light in de winder, an' I calls out, 'Run lak de debbil, kase
de Riders is on dey way!' But he can't do it, run--he's too drunk. An'
he say, 'Go an' git de Madam. Fo' God's sake git de Madam!' So I run,
an' I run, an' I yells fit to bust myse'f--"

"You certainly did, Caesar Jackson," said Jacqueline, patting his head.
"You couldn't have yelled better if you had been a white boy. The Madam
shall hear of this. She likes people who keep their wits about
them.--What must we do, Jemmy?" The older girl had followed her out. "Do
you suppose they mean Henderson any real harm?"

There was a sobbing cry from Mag behind them. "They'll kill him, that's
what they'll do! Oh, pore Pappy! They'll beat him up, an' it'll kill
him, he's so puny. Oh, my Gawd! Cain't nobody stop 'em? They'll _kill_
my Pappy!"

The two girls exchanged startled glances.

"What ef dey does? Nuffin but po' w'ite trash nohow," murmured Lige
scornfully. He knew what he knew.

Jemima hushed him, sternly. "Poor white or not, we can't have tenants on
our property murdered. I'll get help!" She started for the telephone.

"No time for that. They must be at the cabin already. We are the only
neighbors, Jemmy. It's up to us. I wonder what mother would do if she
were here?"

Even as she spoke she was running toward the stable. She knew that at