“They’re coming,” he exclaimed, suddenly, as he got under the hay.

Samson and Harry could see horsemen following at a gallop half a mile or so down the road.  It looked like trouble, for at that hour men were not likely to be abroad in the saddle and riding fast on any usual errand.  Our friends hurried their team and got to Brimstead’s door ahead of the horsemen.  A grove of trees screened the wagon from the view of the latter for a moment.  Henry Brimstead stood in the open door.

“Take these slaves into the house and get them out of sight as quick as you can,” said Samson.  “There’s going to be a quarrel here in a minute.”

The slaves slid off the load and ran into the house.

This was all accomplished in a few seconds.  The team started on toward Peasley’s farm as if nothing had happened, with Harry and Samson standing on the load.  In a moment they saw, to their astonishment, Biggs and a colored servant coming at a slow trot.  Were the slaves they carried the property of Biggs?

“Stop that wagon,” the latter shouted.

Samson kept on, turning out a little to let them pass.

“Stop or we’ll shoot your horses,” Biggs demanded.

“They’ll have to pass close to the load,” Harry whispered.  “I’ll jump on behind Biggs as he goes by.”

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when Harry sprang off the load, catching Biggs’s shoulders and landing squarely on the rump of his horse.  It was a rough minute that followed.  The horse leaped and reared and Biggs lost his seat, and he and Harry rolled to the ground and into a fence corner, while the horse ran up the road, with the pistols in their holsters on his back.  They rose and fought until Harry, being quicker and stronger, got the best of it.  The slaver was severely punished.  The negro’s horse, frightened by the first move in the fracas, had turned and run back down the road.

Biggs swore bitterly at the two Yankees.

“I’ll have you dirty suckers arrested if there’s any law in this state,” he declared, as he stood leaning against the fence, with an eye badly swollen and blood streaming from his nose.

“I suppose you can do it,” said Samson.  “But first let’s see if we can find your horse.  I think I saw him turn in at the house above.”

Samson drove the team, while Biggs and Harry walked up the road in silence.  The negro followed in the saddle.  Peasley had caught Biggs’s horse and was standing at the roadside.

“I want to find a Justice of the Peace,” said Biggs.

“There’s one at the next house above.  I’ll send my boy for him,” Peasley answered.

The Justice arrived in a few minutes and Biggs lodged a complaint founded on the allegation that his slaves were concealed in the hay on Samson’s wagon.  The hay was removed and no slaves were discovered.

“I suppose they left my niggers at the house below,” said Biggs as he mounted his horse and, with his companion, started at a gallop in the direction of Brimstead’s.  Samson remained with Peasley and the Justice.