e would find him again at the end of half an
hour, climbed the fence and set out across the field. Marcy waited until
he came up with Beardsley and handed him the letter, and then resumed
his walk, arriving at the place of meeting just about the time that
Hawkins got there. The latter was laughing all over.

"You writ him a pretty sassy letter, didn't you?" said he.

"I told him what I want him to do, and what he may expect if he doesn't
do it," was Marcy's reply. "What did he say?"

"He wanted to know where I got the letter, and I told him I was
hog-hunting in the woods and met a Union man, who asked me would I give
it to him, and I said I would," answered Hawkins. "Then he got mad and
whooped and hollered, and said he'd be shot if he stirred one step away
from his home; but I reckon he thought better of it when I told him that
Miss Gray's overseer would be in Plymouth to-night, and that a squad of
Yankee cavalry would be looking for him and Shelby to-morrer. That was
all right, wasn't it?"

"Perfectly right. I don't care a cent what starts him, so long as he
starts. Now for Hanson. We ought to find him in a field about a quarter
of a mile away in this direction. I am afraid he will run when he sees
me."

"If he does I'll stop him," replied Hawkins, patting the butt of a long
squirrel-rifle he carried on his shoulder.

For the first time in many months things seemed to be working in Marcy's
favor; for when he and his companion came within sight of the field in
which Hanson ought to have found employment that day for Mrs. Gray's
hands, he was there, and he did not see them until after they had
crossed the fence and made considerable progress toward him. The sight
of Marcy made Hanson uneasy--his actions proved that--and it is probable
that he would have taken to his heels if the boy had not been in the
company of a Confederate soldier who was also a member of the Home
Guards. Still he must have feared treachery, for when Marcy approached
close enough to speak to him, he saw that his face was very white, and
that his hands trembled so violently he could scarcely hold his knife
and the stick he was trying to cut.

"Morning, gentlemen," said he with a strong effort to appear at his
ease. "Fine morning, this morning."

"Cicero," said Marcy, addressing one of the field hands and paying no
sort of attention to the overseer's greeting, "unless you receive other
orders from my mother, you will have charge of this work