lfed her. Then he drew back to his own place
and resumed his silent vigil.

Moments passed, without a sound from the room above. Then came soft
little thuds on the floor, a whimper or two, small sighs, and a slither
of bare legs on bare boards.

"Poor little kiddies!" thought Merryfield, "they're coiling down to
sleep!"

Back in the days when the Force was started, the Major had said to each
recruit of them all:--

"I expect you to treat women and children at all times with every
consideration."

From that hour forth the principle has been grafted into the lives of
the men. It is instinct now--self-acting, deep, and unconscious. No
tried Trooper deliberately remembers it. It is an integral part of him,
like the drawing of his breath.

"I wish I could manage to spare those babies and their mother in what's
to come!" Merryfield pondered as he lurked in the mould-scented dark.

A quarter of an hour went by. Five minutes more. Footsteps nearing the
cabin from the direction of the woods. Low voices--very low.
Indistinguishable words. Then the back door opened. Two persons entered,
and all that they now uttered was clear.

"It was them that the dog heard," said a man's voice. "Get me my rifle
and all my ammunition. I'll go to Maryland. I'll get a job on that stone
quarry near Westminster. I'll send some money as soon as I'm paid."

"But you won't start _to-night_!" exclaimed the wife.

"Yes, to-night--this minute. Quick! I wouldn't budge an inch for the
County folks. But with the State Troopers after me, that's another
thing. If I stay around here now they'll get me dead sure--and send me
up too. My gun, I say!"

"Oh, daddy, daddy, don't go away!" "_Don't_ go away off and leave me,
daddy!" "_Don't go, don't go!_" came the children's plaintive wails,
hoarse with fatigue and fright.

Merryfield stealthily crept from the cellar's outside door, hugging the
wall of the cabin, moving toward the rear. As he reached the corner, and
was about to make the turn toward the back, he drew his six-shooter and
laid his carbine down in the grass. For the next step, he knew, would
bring him into plain sight. If Drake offered any resistance, the
ensuing action would be at short range or hand to hand.

He rounded the corner. Drake was standing just outside the door, a rifle
in his left hand, his right hand hidden in the pocket of his overcoat.
In the doorway stood the wife, with the three little children crowding
before her. It