city o' refuge, t'others run the two gals off into the big woods at the
side o' the road. Then Mister Hoss-Captain picks up the Afrikin, chucks
him on a hoss and sends him a-kiting with his flea in his ear; after
which he climbs _his_ hoss and makes tracks hisself--not to ketch up
with the gals, ez you mought reckon, but off yon way," pointing across
the creek and down the road to the southward.

Jennifer heard him through, had him set it all out again in plainest
fashion, and after all could only say: "You are sure you have the
straight of it, Eph?"

The borderer appealed to Uncanoola. "Come, Chief; give us the wo'th of
your jedgment. Has the old Gray Wolf gone stun-blind? or did he read
them sign like they'd ort to be read?"

"Wah! the Gray Wolf has sharp eye--sharp nose--sharp tongue, sometime.
Sign no can lie when he read 'um."

Jennifer turned to me. "What say you, Jack? 'Tis all far enough beyond
me, I'll confess."

I was as much at sea touching the mystery as he was; yet the thing to do
seemed plain enough.

"Never mind the baronet's mystery; 'tis Mistress Margery's hazard that
concerns us," I would say. And then to Ephraim Yeates: "Will this rain
kill the trail, think you?"

He shook his head dubiously. "I dunno for sartain; 'twill make a heap o'
differ' if they was anyways anxious to hide it. Ez it starts out, with