Lambert, a short, sly, dogged little personage, endeavored to account for the error, if such it was—­“but he was sure, that at starting, there were but three—­they must have have had company join them since.  Did the lieutenant make out the appearance of the others?”

“I did,” said the officer in command, “and, to say truth, they do not seem to be of the old fellow’s party.  They must have come upon him since the night.  But how came you, Lambert, to neglect sawing the axle?  You had time enough when it stood in the farmyard last night, and you were about it a full hour.  The wagon stands as stoutly on its all-fours as the first day it was built.”

“I did that, sir, and did it, I thought, to the very mark.  I calculated to leave enough solid to bear them to the night, when in our circuit we should come among them just in time to finish the business.  The wood is stronger, perhaps, than I took it to be, but it won’t hold out longer than to-morrow, I’m certain, when, if we watch, we can take our way with them.”

“Well, I hope so, and we must watch them, for it won’t do to let the old fellow escape.  He has, I know, a matter of three or four hundred hard dollars in his possession, to buy lands in Mississippi, and it’s a pity to let so much good money go out of the state.”

“But why may we not set upon them now?” inquired one of the youngest of the party.

“For a very good reason, Briggs—­they are armed, ready, and nearly equal in number to ourselves; and though I doubt not we should be able to ride over them, yet I am not willing to leave one or more of us behind.  Besides, if we keep the look-out to-morrow, as we shall, we can settle the business without any such risk.”

This being the determination, the robbers, thus disappointed of their game, were nevertheless in better humor than might have been well expected; but such men are philosophers, and their very recklessness of human life is in some respects the result of a due estimate of its vicissitudes.  They rode on their way laughing at the sturdy bluntness of the old wagoner, which their leader, of whom we have already heard under the name of Dillon, related to them at large.  With a whoop and halloo, they cheered the travellers as they rode by, but at some distance from, the encampment.  The tenants of the encampment, thus strangely but fortunately thrown together, having first seen that everything was quiet, took their severally assigned places, and laid themselves down for repose.  The pedler contenting himself with guessing that “them ’ere chaps did not make no great deal by that speculation.”

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE OUTLAWS.

It was in the wildest and least-trodden recesses of the rock and forest, that the band of outlaws, of which Rivers was the great head and leader, had fixed their place of abode and assemblage.  A natural cavity, formed by the juxtaposition of two huge rocks, overhung by a third, with some few artificial additions, formed for them a cavern, in which—­so admirably was it overgrown by the surrounding forest, and so finely situated among hills and abrupt ridges yielding few inducements for travel—­they found the most perfect security.