“Ye’d better be careful now,” O’Connell said to Dudley.  “Ye know well that if the pass is all right ye’ll be getting yerself into a peck o’ trouble.”

“It isn’t me that’ll get in trouble,” Dudley answered, with grim triumph.  “It’s someone else.”

“Faith, then, who?” was the query.

“Morrison,” snapped Dudley, with an ominous click of his teeth.

“The Colonel?  Why?”

“Because he helped this spy escape! that’s why.  He killed my brother, shot him.  Shot him down like a dog.  But now I’m even with him.”

He shook the pass under the trooper’s nose and crowed with satisfaction.

“I’ve been waiting for a chance like this,” he chortled, “and now I’m going to make him sweat—­sweat blood.”

“Don’t be a fool, Corporal,” the trooper counseled.  “What’ll ye be after doin’?”

“Report him, at headquarters—­for helping a spy escape!  If I have the man and this,” and he slapped the paper, “it’ll mean his sword and shoulder straps—­if not a bullet!  Come on!”

He turned away, to scramble over the wall, but Trooper O’Connell caught his arm.

“Hold on!  Ye may get in trouble.”

In answer Dudley broke away and doggedly kept on towards the stone wall and the road.  “Keep off,” he snarled. “I’m running this.”

“I know ye are,” the trooper replied, “but wait,” and he pointed to the rear.  “Don’t forgit that the Colonel’s out yonder reconnoiterin’.  If he happened to overtake ye on the road—­”

Struck with the sudden thought Dudley paused.  “Well, that’s so,” he growled as he saw how easily he could be held for disobeying orders and how quickly all his plans for vengeance could be smashed.  He stood still for a moment gnawing his lip, then suddenly struck his doubled fist into the palm of the other hand.

“Then you stay here to guard the prisoner,” he said.  “I’ll cut through the woods—­make my report—­come back with the horses—­and my authority.”

“Here, Smith!  You and Judson come along with me.  Never mind the grub.  We’ll get that later.”

Turning to O’Connell, “If you hear anyone coming, take those two into the woods.  Collins!  You’ll have to stay on sentry duty till I get back.  If any troops pass here, get out of sight at once and give Harry warning.  Now, boys—­come along with me—­we’ll take it on the trot,” and climbing quickly over the wall the man who held two lives in the hollow of his hand ran down the road with the two troopers, finally cutting over into the woods and disappearing from view.

Gary and Virgie stood still by the spring.  Out in the road the sentry paced back and forth.  Behind them Trooper O’Connell stood on guard, his carbine in his arms across his breast.

Virgie pulled gently at her father’s hand.

“Daddy,” she whispered, “are they—­are they goin’ to carry us off to the Yankee camp?”