p yo'r hands!" he cried, and Donald complied with the order
without perceptible hesitation, at the same time pushing into full
sight. The man below was Judd!

For a moment neither spoke, and the silence was pregnant with serious
possibilities. Then Donald regained partial control of his shaken
self-possession, and with his hands still held above his head, slid
awkwardly down into a sitting posture on the edge of the bank.

"Do you know, Judd," he remarked at last, with an assumption of
coolness. "I thought _that_ sort of thing had ceased to exist, even in
these wild mountains," and he nodded toward the distillery.

"I allows thet yo' hev er habit of thinkin' wrong," was the surly
response. "You haint no doctor man. Thet's er blind. Yo' be er revenuer,
I reckon, an' es sich I've got ter put er bullet inter ye."

"Don't be a fool," snapped Donald, even in this dangerous predicament
unable to resort to conciliatory words when addressing Judd. "I'm
nothing of the sort, and you know it."

There was another spell of nerve-racking silence. Then the outlaw said
slowly, "I reckon yo' speaks ther truth. Yo' haint smart ernough fer er
revenuer. One er them wouldn't come er still-huntin' 'thout er
rifle-gun, an' _with_ er barkin' dawg."

"Well, I'm glad that's settled," answered Donald, uttering a forced
laugh. "My arms are getting tired, held up like this, and, as you have a
rifle and I haven't, I suggest that I be allowed to resume a more
natural position."

Without waiting for the permission, he dropped his hands to the bank
beside him.

Donald's action placed Judd in an obviously unpleasant dilemma. He knew
it, and therein lay the intruder's best chance.

"I haint never shot er man in cold blood erfore, but I reckon I've got
ter do hit now," he said sullenly. "Yo' know too damned much erbout
sartain things what don't consarn ye."

"If they don't concern me--as I am willing to admit--why waste a
bullet?" answered Donald, mentally sparring for time. "As a law-abiding
citizen I might reasonably feel that you still ought to be put out of
existence; but, it's no hunt of mine, since I'm not a federal officer. I
haven't any particular desire to get a bullet through me, and I know
perfectly well that you don't care for the thought of adding the crime
of murder to the misdemeanor of illicit liquor making."

"I haint erfeerd ter shoot ye," blustered Judd, and added significantly,
"Yo're body wouldn't never be found, and yo'