he
was.

Hippy told them briefly. One of the men laughed.

"Ye mean ye'r a hoss thief," he jeered.

"I wish I were. I'd steal a horse and get away from here."

"Know anybody in these parts, anybody who'll give ye a character?"
questioned another.

"No. I've got a character of my own. I don't need any one to give me a
character," retorted Hippy.

"Who is the feller that come inter these mountains with ye, and then
quit ye in such a hurry?" demanded another.

"His name is Tom Gray. He is the husband of Grace Harlowe Gray, who
leads our party of Riders. He has gone over to the Cumberlands on
business."

"Whut business?"

"He is to make a survey for the government."

Lieutenant Wingate had let slip something that he should not have done.
He saw instantly from the exclamations that the mountaineers uttered
under their breaths, that he had "said something," as he expressed it to
himself.

"So that's it, hey! Be ye-all workin' fer the gov'ment, too?" demanded a
voice.

"I am not, nor have I been since I fought in France. Is there anything
else that you ruffians wish to have me tell you?" demanded Hippy
belligerently.

"Where be the other feller headed for fust?"

"I don't know where he is headed for now," answered the captive,
becoming wary.

"Reckon we'd better look that gov'ment feller up right smart," said one
of the captors in a low tone. "We'll bag the bunch of 'em. Shore ye
ain't got nothin' else t' tell us honest folk up here?" demanded the
first speaker.

"No."

"Reckon ye better think it over, young feller. We'll give ye till
ter-morrer t' make a clean sweep an' tell us the whole business. If ye
don't we'll jest blow yer fool haid off an' chuck ye in a hole in the
mountain an' there won't be nothin' more heard of ye," threatened
another.

"The Germans tried to do that same thing, but they didn't succeed,"
dared Lieutenant Wingate. "Who do you think I am, anyway? What do you
think I am? Come, now, suppose you make a clean sweep and tell me what
all this rotten business is about."

"Ah reckons ye don't have t' be told nothin'," was the reply that Hippy
got. "We're goin' t' take ye away from here an' put a guard over ye, so
if ye wants t' live till ter-morrer, keep quiet."

"Wait a moment!" called Hippy, as the captors turned away for further
conference. "Don't I get anything to eat out of all this?"

There was no reply to his question, and Hippy went without his supper,
which fact really