revolvers from his hip pockets, and examined
them as well as he could in the dark, and Mike did the same, for it was
necessary to be prepared for whatever might happen. The village was as
silent as though it were entirely deserted; but it was nearly midnight,
and doubtless they were asleep in the cabins. They entered one. It was
still and dark within the house. Mr. Pennant had brought with him a
small lantern, which he lighted where the glare of the match could not
be seen; but it revealed nothing to the inquirers.

Covering the lantern so that its light could not be seen, they followed
the lane between the two rows of cabins for some distance farther, and
then entered another. Like the first, it was deserted. They crossed to
the other side of the avenue, where they saw some signs that the cabin
was inhabited. Uncovering his lantern, Mr. Pennant threw the light upon
the interior. It contained two beds, and each of them was occupied by
two persons. In one were two silvered heads to be seen, while the other
displayed two heads that appeared to belong to women.

"Shut the door, Mike," said the officer, in order to prevent the light
from being seen.

"I think I know one of the old men," added the Russian as he returned
from the door, "Shall I wake him up?"

"Yes; but don't frighten him," replied Mr. Pennant.

"Uncle Job," said Mike, placing his hand on the shoulder of the sleeper
on the side of the bed nearest to him.

The head and hair of the old colored man were peculiar enough to enable
the Russian to identify him if he had ever seen him even once before.
His mouth was twisted to one side either naturally or by some injury,
and his kinky hair made him look as though he carried a great bale of
cotton on the top of his head. He opened his eyes when Mike shook him
gently, and looked at the two men at the side of his bed with a
wondering rather than an alarmed expression.

"Who dar?" inquired the negro.

"Good-morning, Uncle Job," replied Mike, taking the hand of the aged
colored person. "How is your health?"

"Don't hab no healf, massa," replied Job, gazing earnestly at the
intruder upon his slumbers.

"Don't you know me, Uncle Job?"

"'Pears like I do; I reckon you's Massa Cap'n Flanger."

"Not exactly; but I'm his man, Mike Bornhoff."

"Jes' so; you was born ob de debbil," replied the old negro, rising in
his bed, and showing all his remaining teeth in an expansive smile.

"He remembers me," said Mike tu