after a fugitive slave. I'm a United States
marshal. You've killed some of our men, and you fired, first.
You've no right--Who are you?" he cried, suddenly pushing closer to
his prisoner in the half light. "I thought I knew your voice!
You--Carlisle--What are you doing here?"

[Illustration: "Who are you?" he cried suddenly.]

"I'm about my business," rejoined that young officer curtly. "I've
been on your trail."

"Well, you've found me," said Dunwody grimly. "You may wish you
hadn't."

The Northerner was not in the least subdued, and remained fearless
as before. "That's fine talk!" he said. "Why haven't we a right
here? We're on a navigable stream of the United States, in free
waters and in a free country, and we're free to do as we propose.
We're under a free flag. What do you mean by firing into us?"

"You're not navigating the river at all," retorted Judge Clayton.
"You're tied up to Missouri soil. The real channel of the river is
away out yonder, and you know it. We're inside our right in
boarding you. We want to know who you are and what you are doing
here, an army officer, at the head of men armed in this way. We're
going to search this boat. You've got property of mine on board,
and we've the legal right to take it, and we're going to take it.
You've killed some of our posse."

"You're pirates!" reiterated the northern, leader. "You're border
ruffians, and you want to take this boat. You'll have to account
for this."

"We are ready to account for it," said Dunwody. "Throw down your
arms, or we will kill every man of you. At once!"

He swung heavily back on his support as he spoke. Clayton caught
him by the arm. "You're hit, Dunwody!" he said in a low voice.

"Yes, a little," answered the other. "Don't say anything." Slowly
he pushed on, directly up to Carlisle, who faced him fearless as
ever. "Tell your men to throw down their guns!" demanded Dunwody
once more.

"Attention, company!" called out the young Northerner. "Stack
arms!"

Silently, in the dark, even in the confusion, the beleaguered men
grouped together and leaned their rifles against this or that
support. Silently they ranged themselves, some on the deck, some
still upon the shore.

"Get lights now, at once!" commanded Dunwody. "We've got men hurt
here. We'll have to do something at once. Jamieson!" he cried
out. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm all right," answered Doctor Jamieson out of the darkness.
"Not a scra