con could make better time walking, and he
was too merciful to allow them to pull him up hill.

The result was that, with helping pry the stalled wagons out and work in
making the roads more passable, the Deacon expended more labor than if
he had started out to walk in the first place.

It was late in the afternoon when the Herd-Boss said:

"There, you take that path to the right, and in a little ways you'll
come out by a purty good house. I hain't seen any Johnnies around in
this neighborhood since I've bin travelin' this route, but you'd better
keep your eye peeled, all the same. If you see any, skip back to the
road here, and wait awhile. Somebody 'll be passin' before long."

Thanking him, the Deacon set out for the house, hoping to be able to
reach it, get some fowls, and be back to Chattanooga before morning. If
he got the chickens, he felt sanguine that he could save Si's life.

He soon came in sight of the house, the only one, apparently, for miles,
and scanned it carefully. There were no men to be seen, though the house
appeared to be inhabited. He took another look at the heavy revolver
which he had borrowed from the Surgeon, and carried ready for use in the
pocket of Si's overcoat, and began a strategic advance, keep ing well
out of sight under the cover of the sumachs lining the fences.

Still he saw no one, and finally he became so bold as to leave his
covert and walk straight to the front door. A dozen dogs charged at him
with a wild hullabaloo, but he had anticipated this, and picked up a
stout hickory switch in the road, which he wielded with his left hand
with so much effect that they ran howling back under the house. He kept
his right hand firmly grasping his revolver.

An old man and his wife appeared at the door; both of them shoved back
their spectacles until they rested on the tops of their heads, and
scanned him searchingly. The old woman had a law-book in her hand, and
the old man a quill pen. She had evidently been reading to him, and he
copying.

The old man called out to him imperiously:

"Heah, stranger, who air yo'? An' what d'yo' want?"

The tone was so harsh and repellant that the Deacon thought that he
would disarm hostility by announcing himself a plain citizen, like
themselves. So he replied:

"I'm a farmer, and a citizen from Injianny, and I want to buy some
chickens for my son, who's sick in the hospital at Chattanoogy."

"Injianny!" sneered the old man. "Meanest people i