lot of sleep last night," responded Ump. "When a feller
travels with the devil in the night, he can't work with the Lord in the
day."

"He hasn't been at it long," said I, pointing to the faint smoke
hovering above the chimney; "or the fire would be out."

"Right," said Ump. "An, that's a horse of another colour. I think I
shall take a look."

With that he swung down from his saddle, crossed to the shop, and flung
open the door. Then he began to whistle softly.

"Hot nest," he said, "but no sign of the shikepoke."

"He may be hiding out until we pass," said I.

"Not he," responded the hunchback.

Then I took an inspiration. "Ump," I cried, "I'll bet the bit out of the
bridle that he saw us coming and lit out to carry the word!"

The hunchback struck his fist against the door of the shop. "Quiller,"
he said, "you ought to have sideboards on your noggin. That's what he's
done, sure as the Lord made little apples!"

Then he got on his horse and rode her through the hickories out to the
brow of the hill. Presently I heard him call, and went to him with El
Mahdi on a trot. He pointed his finger north across the country and,
following the pointed finger, I saw the brown coat of a man disappearing
behind a distant ridge. It was too far away to see who it was that
travelled in that coat, but we knew as well as though the man's face had
passed by our stirrups.

"Hoity-toity!" said Ump, "what doin's there'll be when he gits in with
the news!"

"The air will be blue," said I.

"Streaked and striped," said he.

"I should like to see Woodford champing the bit," said I.

"I'd give a leg for the sight of it," replied the hunchback, "an' they
could pick the leg."

I laughed at the hunchback's offer to the Eternal Powers. Of all the
generation of rogues, he was least fitted to barter away his
underpinning.

We rode back to the shop and down the hill after the cattle, Ump
drumming on the pommel with his fingers and firing a cackle of fantastic
monologue. "Quiller," he said, "do you think Miss Cynthia will be glad
to see the drove comin' down the road?"

"Happy as a June bug," said I.

"Old Granny Lanham," continued the hunchback, "used to have a song that
went like this:

"'God made man, an' man made money;
God made bees, an' bees made honey;
God made woman, an' went away to rest Him,
An' along come the devil, an' showed her how to best Him.'"

"Meaning what?" said I.

"Meanin'," responded U