e to tree. A moment later the
spy was filling up the crevice with stones, and Isom knew what he was
about; he was making a "blind" to waylay Steve, who, the boy knew, was
going to Breathitt by that road the next Sunday. How did Crump know
that--how did he know everything? The crevice filled, Crump cut branches
and stuck them between the rocks. Then he pushed his rifle through the
twigs, and taking aim several times, withdrew it. When he turned away
at last and started down to the road, he looked back once more, and Isom
saw him grinning. Almost chuckling in answer, the lad slipped around the
knob to the road the other way, and Crump threw up his gun with a gasp
of fright when a figure rose out of the dusk before him.

"Hol' on, Eli!" said Isom, easily. "Don't git skeered! Hit's nobody but
me. Whar ye been?"

Crump laughed, so quick was he disarmed of suspicion. "Jes up the river
a piece to see Aunt Sally Day. She's a fust cousin o' mine by marriage."

Jsom's right hand was slipping back as if to rest on his hip. "D'you say
you'd been 'convicted,' Eli?"

Crump's answer was chantlike. "Yes, Lawd reckon I have."

"Goin' to stop all o' yer lyin', air ye," Isom went on, in the same
tone, and Crump twitched as though struck suddenly from behind, "an'
stealin' 'n' lay-wayin'?"

"Look a-hyeh, boy--" he began, roughly, and mumbling a threat, started
on.

"Uh, Eli!" Even then the easy voice fooled him again, and he turned.
Isom had a big revolver on a line with his breast. "Drap yer gun!" he
said, tremulously.

Crump tried to laugh, but his guilty face turned gray. "Take keer, boy,"
he gasped; "yer gun's cocked. Take keer, I tell ye!"

"Drap it, damn ye!" Isom called in sudden fury, "'n' git clean away from
it!" Crump backed, and Isom came forward and stood with one foot on the
fallen Winchester.

"I seed ye, Eli. Been makin' a blind fer Steve, hev ye? Goin' to shoot
him in the back, too, air ye? You're ketched at last, Eli. You've done
a heap o' devilment. You're gittin' wuss all the time. You oughter be
dead, 'n' now--"

Crump found voice in a cry of terror and a whine for mercy. The boy
looked at him, unable to speak his contempt.

"Git down thar!" he said, finally; and Crump, knowing what was wanted,
stretched himself in the road. Isom sat down on a stone, the big pistol
across one knee.

"Roll over!" Crump rolled at full length.

"Git up!" Isom laughed wickedly. "Ye don't look purty, Eli." He lifted
the pi