Wambush offered no further resistance.  Hunter fumbled in the bags.  He held up a quart flask of corn whiskey over his head, shook it in the moonlight, and then restored it.  “I hain’t the heart to deprive ’im of that,” he said, as he walked round the horse; “he won’t find any better in his travels.”  On the other side he found a forty-four-caliber revolver.

“That ’u’d be a ugly customer to meet on a dark road,” he said, holding it up for the others to see.  “By hunky! it ’u’d dig a tunnel through a rock mountain.  Say, Westerfelt, ef he’d ‘a’ got a whack at yer with this yore fragments ‘u’d never a-come together on the day o’ jedgment.”

Westerfelt made no reply.

“Now, let ’im go,” said the leader.  “Ef he dares to be seed anywhar in the Cohutta section six hours frum now he knows what will come uv ’im.  We refuse to shelter ‘im any longer, an’ the officers of the law will take ’im in tow.”

The ring of men and horses opened for Wambush to pass out.  He said nothing, and did not turn his head as he rode down the mountain into the mysterious haze that hung over the valley.

“What do you say, boys?” proposed Jim Hunter to Longfield and Burks.  “Let’s ride down the road a piece with Westerfelt.”

“All right,” both of them said.  There was a general scramble of the band to get mounted.  Westerfelt got on his horse and started back towards the village, accompanied by the three men.  When they had ridden about a hundred yards, Westerfelt said: 

“I’m taking you out of your way, gentlemen, and I think I’d rather go alone.”

“Well, all right,” said Hunter; “but you’ve got to take my gun.  That whelp would resk his salvation to get even with you.”

“I know it,” said Westerfelt, putting the revolver into his pocket; “but he’ll not try it to-night.”

“No, I think he’s gone fer good,” said Longfield.  “I guess he’ll make fer Texas.”

At a point where two roads crossed a few yards ahead of them, Westerfelt parted with the three men.  They went back up the mountain, and he rode slowly homeward.

When he was in sight of the stable, he saw Washburn coming towards him on horseback.

“Hello!  Did they hurt you, Mr. Westerfelt?” he asked.

“They never touched me.”

“My Lord! how was that?”

“I told them I had nothing to do with the arrest; three of them were old friends of my father’s, and they believed me.  Did you find her—­did you find Miss Harriet?”

“Yes; I couldn’t make out what you meant ’bout the account-book at first, but I went over to the shop as soon as you all left.  She wus lyin’ thar on the ground in a dead faint.  It took hard work to bring her to.”

“You took her home?”

“Not right away; I couldn’t do a thing with ’er.  She acted like a crazy woman.  She screamed an’ raged an’ tore about an’ begged fer a hoss to ride atter you all.  She wasn’t in no fix to go; she didn’t know what she wus about, an’ that scamp would a-shot ’er.  I believe on my soul he would.”