e that this fellow may
have been a desperate negro, hunted by the Regulators, who want to
string him up?"

Jack pretended to laugh, though George detected a vein of uneasiness in
his comrade's manner.

"Oh! well," he went on, "I hardly think it's quite as bad as that,
George. But still, he certainly did run away when he found he had been
seen; and that looks bad."

"But what d'ye think brought him here in the first place?" George
pursued.

"Huh!" grunted Nick, breathing in, "that ought to be easy to guess.
Picture yourself hungry as all get-out, and wandering through these
woods, when you suddenly get a sniff of the most delicious odors in the
wide world. Wouldn't you make a bee line for that grub factory, and
see if you couldn't sneak a share off? Huh! some people don't ever
seem to understand the common failing of human nature."

"Is that it, Jack?" asked George.

"I think Buster hit the nail on the head that time," returned the
other. "This man must have been drawn by the smell of our cooking.
He's been watching us from behind this tree. Then when he saw that he
had been discovered he got cold feet, and vamoosed."

"Then we'd better keep watch and watch tonight," said George.

"I meant to suggest that idea anyway," Jack answered.

"Gee! I feel sorry for that poor wretch!" Nick remarked. "Just think
of having a chance to smell all the nice odors and get nothing. It's a
shame, that's what!"

George laughed derisively.

"Listen to him, would you?" he cried. "He's so fond of stuffing
himself, that he feels for a poor skunk that didn't know enough to keep
out of trouble."

"Shame on you, George," Jack burst out with. "I think it does Buster
credit. And I'm going to tie that half loaf of bread to the tree here,
so if our timid black friend comes back, he can get something to keep
him from starving."

"Better go slow," remarked George. "You may get in a peck of trouble
that way, if this fellow happens to be that Erastus we heard about, who
burned the house up in Tunica county here, and is being hunted far and
near. Dangerous business, Jack."

"We don't know anything about it, only that there may be a poor chap
nearly starved nearby. What do you say, Jimmie? I'd like to feel that
I have backing enough," and Jack turned toward the Irish lad.

"Pshaw! no use asking _him_," snorted George. "Jimmie would give away
the coat on his back, or his last copper. Make it unanimous, then, if
you want