through swamp or over obstacles to
hold the masked road. The remaining body under the Squire, he thought,
might follow the track of the fugitives of the night, and constitute the
main besieging force. As to those who should perform the respective
duties, apart from the persons named, the Squire suggested waiting till
the inquests--which would bring some additions to the local
population--were over. He hoped much from his fellow justice of the
peace, Mr. Walker. Tom Rigby, an old pensioner, and the township
constable, would probably have his hands full looking after the
prisoners. Fortunately, the post office store of ammunition was not yet
exhausted, to say nothing of that contained in various flasks and shot
belts, and in the shape of cartridges. The colonel, apropos of warlike
weapons, bemoaned the absence of bayonets, and warmly advocated a
proposition of the lawyer's, that each combatant should carry, slung
over the shoulder or in such way as not to interfere with the handling
of his gun, a strong stick like those proposed by the commander-in-chief
for his cavalry. Toner and Rufus were immediately roused from their
slumbers, and sent to cut the requisite bludgeons, and drill them with
holes to pass a cord through. Shortly after they had departed on their
errand, the household awoke to life and activity, and, through casually
opened doors, there came the gratifying odours of breakfast in
preparation.

CHAPTER XII.

Mr. Bangs Accredits Himself--Silences Squire Walker--Constable
Rigby in the Kitchen--The Inquests--Arrests, and Mr. Newberry--The
Beaver River Contingent--Mr. Bangs and the Squire Consult--The Army
Prepares--Wilkinson's Heroics--Mr. Bigglethorpe on Fishing.

When Timotheus returned, he was not alone; a slightly built man of
medium stature, and rather flashily attired, rode beside him. The Squire
strode to the gate, to learn that the younger Pilgrim had accomplished
his various missions successfully, and to be presented by him, in his
usual clumsy way, to Mr. Bengs, a friend of Mr. Nash as was. "Yore men
is right, Squire; my neme is Bengs, Hickey Bengs, end pore Nesh sent for
me to kem end help ferret out a geng of dem excise slopers, end here I
find my pore friend merdered. I tell you, Squire, it's too dem bed, O,
too dem bed!"

The Squire felt he must be cautious these times, but that did not hinder
him being hospitable. "Come in, Mr. Bengs, and breakfast with us. My man