Mr. Harkutt with evident reluctance drew the bolts. The wind, still
boisterous and besieging, did the rest, and precipitately propelled
Peters through the carefully guarded opening. But his surprise at
finding himself in the darkness seemed to forestall any explanation of
his visit.

"Well," he said with an odd mingling of reproach and suspicion. "I
declare I saw a light here just this minit! That's queer."

"Yes, I put it out just now. I was goin' away," replied Harkutt, with
ill-disguised impatience.

"What! been here ever since?"

"No," said Harkutt curtly.

"Well, I want to speak to ye about 'Lige. Seein' the candle shinin'
through the chinks I thought he might be still with ye. If he ain't, it
looks bad. Light up, can't ye! I want to show you something."

There was a peremptoriness in his tone that struck Harkutt disagreeably,
but observing that he was carrying something in his hand, he somewhat
nervously re-lit the candle and faced him. Peters had a hat in his hand.
It was 'Lige's!

"'Bout an hour after we fellers left here," said Peters, "I heard the
rattlin' of hoofs on the road, and then it seemed to stop just by my
house. I went out with a lantern, and, darn my skin! if there warn't
'Lige's hoss, the saddle empty, and 'Lige nowhere! I looked round and
called him--but nothing were to be seen. Thinkin' he might have slipped