through the brush after him -Isom's evil spirit-old Gabe, Raines, "
conviction," blood-penalty, forgotten, all lost in the passion of a
chase which has no parallel when the game is man.

Straight up the ravine Crump went along a path which led to Steve
Marcum's cabin. There was a clump of rhododendron at the head
of the ravine, and near Steve's cabin. About this hour Marcum
would be chopping wood for supper, or sitting out in his porch in
easy range from the thicket. Crump's plan was plain: he was about
his revenge early, and Isom was exultant.

"Oh, no, Eli, you won't git Steve this time. Oh, naw!

The bushes were soon so thick that he could no longer follow
Crump by sight, and every few yards he had to stop to listen, and
then steal on like a mountain-cat towards the leaves rustling ahead
of him. Half-way up the ravine Crump turned to the right and
stopped. Puzzled, Isom pushed so close that the spy, standing
irresolute on the edge of the path, whirled around. The boy
sank to his face, and in a moment footsteps started and grew faint;
Crump had darted across the path, and was running through the
undergrowth up the spur. Isom rose and hurried after him; and
when, panting hard, he reached the top, the spy's skulking figure
was sliding from Steve's house and towards the Breathitt road; and
with a hot, puzzled face, the boy went down after it.

On a little knob just over a sudden turn in the road Crump stopped,
and looking sharply about him, laid his gun down. Just in front of
him were two rocks, waist-high, with a crevice between them.
Drawing a long knife from his pocket, he climbed upon them, and