"And let me tell you further," Dane continued, "that as I have dealt
with you now, so others will deal with you in the future if you try any
more of your mean tricks. Perhaps you will not get off so easily then
as you have this time. I know who you are. You are employed by the
slashers to spy upon the King's men, engaged in the lawful business of
cutting masts for his Majesty's navy. They are well named, for they
are slashing everywhere, and ruining the forests. But they have about
reached the end of their tether, and you can tell them so from me, Dane
Norwood, the King's Arrow."

Without another word he turned, and walked rapidly along the road
leading to the mill-pond.




CHAPTER III

CUPID'S ARROW

Before a rude shack, somewhat back from the water, a middle aged
colored woman was seated upon a block of wood. In her hands she held a
waffle-iron, the farther end of which was thrust into a small fire
between several stones. She was a bunty little body, clad in a plain
grey dress, with a cap, somewhat in the form of a white turban,
adorning her head. Her naturally good-natured face bore an anxious
expression, and a worried look appeared in her eyes as she turned them
occasionally to the people moving about farther down the hill.