e woods to the south of the clearing, and then started back toward
the house. I was busy with my own thoughts as we went, and Long was
also silent, so that scarcely a word passed between us until we
reached the steps.

"Sit down a minute, Long," I said, as he started back to his quarters. "I
don't believe we'll have any more trouble with those fellows, but perhaps
it would be well to watch them."

"Trust me for that, sir," he answered. "I'll see to it that there are no
more meetings of that kind. With Polete away, there is little danger. The
only question is whether he will stay away."

"I think he will," and I looked out over the river thoughtfully. "He
seemed to understand the danger he was in. If he returns, you will have
to deliver him up to the authorities at once, of course."

"Well," said Long, "I'm not a bloodthirsty man, sir, as perhaps you know,
but I think we'd be safer if he were dead. Still, we'll be safe enough
anyway, now the niggers know their plot is discovered. But we were in a
ticklish place there for a while this evening."

"Yes," I answered, with a smile. "It was not so easy as I had expected. I
want to thank you, Long, for going with me. It was a service on your part
which showed you have the interest of the place at heart, and are not
afraid of danger."

"That's all right, sir," he said awkwardly. "Good-night."

"Wait till I get your pistols," I said. "You left them in the hall,
you know."

The moonlight was streaming through the open window, and as I stepped
into the hall, I rubbed my eyes, for I thought I must be dreaming. There
in a great chair before the fireplace sat Colonel Washington. His head
had fallen back, his eyes were closed, and from his deep and regular
breathing I knew that he was sleeping. Marveling greatly at his presence
here at this hour, I tiptoed around him, got Long's pistols, and took
them out to him. Then I lighted my pipe and sat down in a chair opposite
the sleeper, and waited for him to awake. I had not long to wait. Whether
from my eyes on his face, or some other cause, he stirred uneasily,
opened his eyes, and sat suddenly bolt upright.

"Why, Tom," he cried, as he saw me, "I must have been asleep."

"So you have," I said, shaking hands with him, and pressing him back into
the chair, from which he would have risen. "But what fortunate chance
has brought you here?"

"The most fortunate in the world!" he cried, his eyes agleam. "You know I
told you that the