On their road, Bunce gave the youth a long and particular account of all those circumstances at the village-inn by which he had been deprived of his chattels, and congratulated himself not a little on the adroit thought which had determined him to retain the good steed of the Lawyer Pippin in lieu of his losses.  He spoke of it as quite a clever and creditable performance, and one as fully deserving the golden honors of the medal as many of those doings which are so rewarded.

On this point his companion said little; and though he could not altogether comprehend the propriety of the pedler’s morals, he certainly did not see but that the necessity and pressing danger of his situation somewhat sanctioned the deceit.  He suggested this idea to Bunce, but when he came to talk of the propriety of returning the animal the moment he was fairly in safety, the speculator failed entirely to perceive the moral of his philosophy.

The sheriff’s officers came upon the wagoner a few hours after the two had separated from him.  The intelligence received from him quickened their pace, and toward noon they descried our travellers ascending a hill a few hundred yards in advance of them.  A repeated application of the spur brought them together, and, as had been anticipated by Rivers, Ralph offered not the slightest objection, when once satisfied of the legality of his arrest, to becoming their prisoner.  But the consternation of Bunce was inexpressible.  He endeavored to shelter himself in the adjoining woods, and was quietly edging his steed into the covert for that purpose, on the first alarm, but was not permitted by the sharp eyes and ready unscrupulosity of the robber representatives of the law.  They had no warrant, it is true, for the arrest of any other person than “the said Ralph Colleton”—­but the unlucky color of Pippin’s horse, and their perfect knowledge of the animal, readily identifying him, did the business for the pedler.

Under the custody of the laws, therefore, we behold the youth retracing his ground, horror-stricken at the death of Forrester—­indignant at the suspicions entertained of himself as the murderer, but sanguine of the result, and firm and fearless as ever.  Not so Bunce:  there were cruel visions in his sight of seven-sided pine-rails—­fierce regulators—­Lynch’s law, and all that rude and terrible sort of punishment, which is studiously put in force in those regions for the enjoyment of evil-doers.  The next day found them both securely locked up in the common jail of Chestatee.

CHAPTER XXX.

CHUB WILLIAMS.