d cleared the stream he saw his
companion drop to his knees beside a fallen log and when he came up to
him he was unwrapping a piece of canvas from about a gun. With a warning
gesture he rose to his feet and for twenty seconds the men stood and
listened. No sound came to them but the chirp of a startled squirrel and
the barking of a dog in the direction of St. James.

"They haven't turned out the dogs yet," said Neil, holding a hand
against his heaving chest. "If they do they can't reach us through that
slough." He leaned his rifle against the log and again thrusting an arm
into the place where it had been concealed drew forth a small box.

"Powder and ball--and grub!" he laughed. "You see I am a sort of
revolutionist and have my hiding-places. To-morrow--I will be a martyr."
He spoke as quietly as though his words but carried a careless jest.

"A martyr?" laughed Nathaniel, looking down into the smiling, sweating
face.

"Yes, to-morrow I shall kill Strang."

There was no excitement in Neil's voice as he stood erect. The smile did
not leave his lips. But in his eyes there shone that which neither words
nor smiling lips revealed, a reckless, blazing fury hidden deep in
them--so deep that Nathaniel stared to assure himself what it was. The
other saw the doubt in his face.

"To-morrow I shall kill Strang," he repeated. "I shall kill him with
this gun from under the window of his house through which you saw
Marion."

"Marion!" exclaimed Nathaniel. "Marion--" He leaned forward eagerly,
questioning. "Tell me--"

"My sister, Captain Plum!"

It seemed to Nathaniel that every fiber in his body was stretched to the
breaking point. He reached out, dazed by what he had heard and with both
hands seized Neil's arm.

"Your sister--who came to you at the whipping-post?"

"That was Marion."

"And--Strang's wife?"

"No!" cried Neil. "No--not his wife!" He drew back from Nathaniel's
touch as if the question had stabbed him to the heart. The passion that
had slumbered in his eyes burst into savage flame and his face became
suddenly terrible to look upon. There was hatred there such as Nathaniel
had never seen; a ferocious, pitiless hatred that sent a shuddering
thrill through him as he stood before it. After a moment the clenched
fist that had risen above Neil's head dropped to his side. Half
apologetically he held out his hand to his companion.

"Captain Plum, we've got a lot to thank you for, Marion and I," he said,
a