boots,
butcher's, and a big tweed poncho. The boots were easier to take a long
rough ride in than trousers, and I wanted the poncho to keep the Ballard
rifle under. It wouldn't do to have it in your hand all the time.

As we rode along I settled upon the way I'd try and set poor Jim free.
Bad off as I was myself I couldn't bear to see him chained up, and
knew that he was going for years and years to a place more wicked and
miserable than he'd ever heard of.

After riding twenty miles the sun was getting low, when Billy pointed to
a trail which came broad ways across the road, and which then followed
it.

'Here they are--p'leece, and no mistake. Here's their horses' tracks
right enough. Here's the prisoner's horse, see how he stumbled? and this
road they're bound to go till they cross the Stony point, and get into
Bargo Brush, near a creek.'

We had plenty of time by crossing a range and running a blind creek down
to be near the place where the troopers must pass as they crossed the
main creek. We tied up the horses a hundred yards' distance behind us
in the forest, and I made ready to rescue Jim, if it could be managed
anyhow.

How was it to be done? I could depend on the rifle carrying true at
short ranges; but I didn't like the notion of firing at a man behind his
back, like. I hardly knew what to do, when all of a sudden two policemen
showed up at the end of the track nearest the creek.

One man was a bit in front--riding a fine horse, too. The next one had a
led horse, on which rode poor old Jim, looking as if he was going to be
hanged that day, as Billy said, though I knew well he wasn't thinking
about himself. I don't believe Jim ever looked miserable for so long
since he was born. Whatever happened to him before he'd have a cry or
a fight, and it would be over. But now his poor old face looked that
wretched and miserable, as if he'd never smile again as long as he
lived. He didn't seem to care where they took him; and when the old
horse stumbled and close upon fell down he didn't take notice.

When I saw that, my mind was made up. I couldn't let them take him away
to his death. I could see he wouldn't live a month. He'd go fretting
his life about Jeanie, and after the free life he'd always led he'd fall
sick like the blacks when they're shut up, and die without any reason
but because a wild bird won't live in a cage.

So I took aim and waited till they were just crossing the creek into the
forest. The l