e road.
Would they never learn, then, to keep out of the mountains?

"But is it not an extraordinary state of things that a village so large
as Ellerby should be so apathetic?" asked Adelaide.

"The villagers can do little: once off the road, and you are in a
trackless wilderness," said Stephen. "Custom makes law in these regions:
moonlight whisky has always been made, and the mountaineers think they
have a right to make it. They look upon the revenue-men as spies."

"Yes; and they are government officials and Northerners too," added
Royce hotly--"mind that!"

He had taken the matter in hand vigorously. He wrote and sent off a
dozen letters per day. The Department at Washington had its attention
decisively called to this district and the outlawry rampant there. It
was used to it.

In a week the troops came--part of a company of infantry and a young
lieutenant, a tall stripling fresh from West Point. His name was
Allison; he lisped and wore kid-gloves; he was as dainty as a girl, and
almost as slender. To see the short, red-faced, burly detective, with
his bandaged head and stubbed fingers; Royce, with his eagle eyes and
impatient glance; and this delicate-handed, pink-cheeked boy, conferring
together, was like a scene from a play. The detective, slow and
cautious, studied the maps; Royce, in a hot hurry about everything,
paced up and down; Allison examined his almond-shaped nails and hummed a
tune. The detective had his suspicions concerning Eagle Knob; the troops
could take the river-road, turn off at Butter Glen, and climb the
mountain at that point. In the mean while all was kept quiet; it was
given out that the men were to search South Gap, on the other side of
the valley.

On the very night appointed for the start, an old lady, who had three
granddaughters from the low country spending the summer with her, opened
her house, lit up her candles, and gave a ball, with the village
fiddlers for musicians and her old black cook's plum-cake for
refreshments. Royce was to accompany the troops; Adelaide had not been
able to prevent it. She went to Stephen in distress, and then Stephen
proposed to Royce to send half a dozen stout villagers in his place--he,
Stephen, paying all expenses.

"There are some things, Wainwright, that even your money can not do,"
replied Royce.

"Very well," said Stephen.

Royce now announced that they must all go to the ball to divert
suspicion; Allison too. But Allison had no invitati