when you said no one was with
him to-night?"

"That no one was watching him," he answered.

"Watching him? I don't understand."

"Yes; he has been shot at from the woods at night and----"

The girl shivered. "But who watches him?"

"The young men of the town. He has a habit of taking long walks after
dark, and he is heedless of all remonstrance. He laughs at the idea
of curtailing the limit of his strolls or keeping within the town when
night has fallen; so the young men have organized a guard for him, and
every evening one of them follows him until he goes to the office to
work for the night. It is a different young man every evening, and the
watcher follows at a distance so that he does not suspect."

"But how many people know of this arrangement?"

"Nearly every one in the county except the Cross-Roads people, though it
is not improbable that they have discovered it."

"And has no one told him"

"No; it would annoy him; he would not allow it to continue. He will not
even arm himself."

"They follow and watch him night after night, and every one knows and no
one tells him? Oh, I must say," cried the girl, "I think these are good
people."

The stalwart old man on the front seat shook out the reins and whined
the whip over his roans' backs. "They are the people of your State and
mine. Miss Sherwood," he said in his hearty voice, "the best people in
God's world--and I'm not running for Congress, either!"

"But how about the Six-Cross-Roads people, father?" asked Minnie.

"We'll wipe them clean out some day," answered her father--"possibly
judicially, possibly----"

"Surely judiciously?" suggested Miss Sherwood.

"If you care to see what a bad settlement looks like, we'll drive
through there to-morrow--by daylight," said Briscoe. "Even the doctor
doesn't insist on being in that neighborhood after dark. They are trying
their best to get Harkless, and if they do----"

"If they do!" repeated Miss Sherwood. She clasped Fisbee's hand gently.
His eyes shone and he touched her fingers with a strange, shy reverence.

"You will meet him to-morrow," he said.

She laughed and pressed his hand. "I'm afraid not. He wasn't even
interested enough to look at me."

CHAPTER III. LONESOMENESS

When the rusty hands of the office clock marked half-past four, the
editor-in-chief of the "Carlow County Herald" took his hand out of his
hair, wiped his pen on his last notice from the White-Caps, put on his
coat, sw