r agent went
white as birch bark. Go on, Davy."

"There's not a great deal more, sir," I answered, looking apprehensively
at Major Colfax, who still stood. "The man vowed I lied, but Tom laid
hold of him and was for hurrying him off to Harrodstown at once."

"Which would ill have suited your purpose," put in the Colonel. "And
what did you do with him?"

"We put him in a loft, sir, and then I told Tom that he was not
Campbell's thief at all. But I had a craving to scare the man out of
Kentucky. So I rode off to the neighbors and gave them the tale, and
bade them come after nightfall as though to hang Campbell's thief, which
they did, and they were near to smashing the door trying to get in the
cabin. Tom told them the rascal had escaped, but they must needs come in
and have jigs and toddies until midnight. When they were gone, and we
called down the man from the loft, he was in such a state that he could
scarce find the rungs of the ladder with his feet. He rode away into the
night, and that was the last we heard of him. Tom was not to blame,
sir."

Colonel Clark was speechless. And when for the moment he would conquer
his mirth, a glance at Major Colfax would set him off again in laughter.
I was puzzled. I thought my Colonel more human than of old.

"How now, Colfax?" he cried, giving a poke to the Major's ribs; "you hold
the sequel to this farce."

The Major's face was purple,--with what emotion I could not say.
Suddenly he swung full at me.

"Do you mean to tell me that you were the general of this hoax--you?" he
demanded in a strange voice.

"The thing seemed an injustice to me, sir," I replied in self-defence,
"and the man a rascal."

"A rascal!" cried the Major, "a knave, a poltroon, a simpleton! And he
came to me with no tale of having been outwitted by a stripling."
Whereupon Major Colfax began to shake, gently at first, and presently he
was in such a gale of laughter that I looked on him in amazement, Colonel
Clark joining in again. The Major's eye rested at length upon Tom, and
gradually he grew calm.

"McChesney," said he, "we'll have no bickerings in court among soldiers.
The land is yours, and to-morrow my attorney shall give you a deed of it.
Your hand, McChesney."

The stubbornness vanished from Tom's face, and there came instead a dazed
expression as he thrust a great, hard hand into the Major's.

"'Twan't the land, sir," he stammered; "these varmints of settlers is
gittin' thick as flies