"Do you suppose he'll survive, Shad? I'll bet a cookie it's a hundred and
six inside there."

"Do him good," retorted Shad. "Probably it's the only chance he's ever had
to meditate on his misdoings. Don't you fret about him. He's just as husky
as I be, and twice as hefty. It was all I could do to ketch a good holt on
him."

"Oh, Shad," exclaimed Kit. "I didn't want you to touch him, you know."

"I didn't," Shad laughed. "I just gave him a bit of sound scripture
reasoning, aided by fist persuasion when he was inclined to put up an
argument. I'll stand guard over him until Han comes along, and takes him
quietly off our hands. I reckon he didn't think we had any majesty of the
law here in Gilead."

Kit looked after his retreating figure somewhat dubiously. It was one
thing to act on the impulse of the moment and quite another to face the
consequences. Now that the prisoner was safe in the corn-crib, she
wondered somewhat uneasily just what her father would say when he found
out what she had done to protect the berry patch. But just now he was safe
in the upper orchard with old Mr. Weaver, deep in apple culture, and she
thought she could get rid of the trespasser before he returned.

Mrs. Gorham was in the kitchen putting up peaches. Her voice came with
droning, old-fashioned sweetness through the screen door.

"When I can read my title dear
To mansions in the skies,