as he came up to the stream he made out a camp and campers, one of whom
called out carelessly to him as he passed:

"Are you all right on the goose?"--the cant phrase of the pro-slavery
men.

"Never rode a goose in my life, gentlemen," was the reply.

"That's Cody's boy!" shouted another voice; and the word "Halt!" rang
out just as Will had galloped safely past the camp.

Will's answer was to drive the spurs into Prince and dart ahead,
followed by a rain of bullets. He was now well out of range, and the
pony still strong and fleet.

The chase was on, and in the thrill of it Will forgot his weakness. A
new strength came with the rush of air and the ring of hoofs, and "I'll
reach the Falls in time!" was his heartening thought, as pursurer and
pursued sped through the forests, clattered over bridges, and galloped
up hill and down.

Then broke the long-impending storm, and the hard road became the bed
of a muddy stream. The pursuit was abandoned, and this stimulus removed,
Will felt the chills and weakness coming on again. He was drenched to
the skin, and it was an effort to keep his saddle, but he set his teeth
firmly in his resolve to accomplish his heroic purpose.

At last! A welcome light gleamed between the crystal bars of the rain.
His mission was accomplished.