and buggy were secreted in a little grove of trees that skirted the main
road, and the men stationed themselves in convenient hiding-places along
the lane, to await the return of the farmer and his nephew. From the
appearance of the farm-house, it was evident that the fishing-party had
not yet returned, and they settled themselves down to a patient, silent
waiting, which, as the hours wore on, grew painfully tedious and
tiresome. At last, long past midnight, and after they had begun to
despair of accomplishing the object of their visit, they heard a faint
noise, as though footsteps were approaching.

"Hist!" cried Robert, "some one is coming."

They listened intently, and gradually the noises grew louder and more
distinct. As they came nearer the constable distinctly recognized the
voice of the old farmer, who was evidently relating some humorous story
to his companion, who was laughing heartily. The merry tones of this
young man's laugh were as clear and ringing as though he had not a care
in the world, and had not committed a crime against the laws of the
state. No one, to have heard that hearty, melodious burst of merriment,
would have supposed for an instant that it came from the lips of a
fugitive from justice.

They were now nearly opposite to the crouching figures by the roadside.
The old farmer had evidently reached the climax of his story, for both
of them broke out again into a fresh burst of violent laughter that
awoke the echoes round about them.

The laugh suddenly died away, the merriment ceased abruptly, as a dark
form emerged from the roadside, and the muzzle of a revolver was placed
close to the cheek of the young man, while Robert called out menacingly: