“Nothin’ yuh-uns ’d like tuh have to-night?” inquired Mr. Stallings, as he shook hands warmly at parting.

Maurice smiled and shook his head.

“There’s lots we need,” he said; “but I wouldn’t dare think of accepting your kind offer without consulting Thad.  He’s queer about running up debts.  But in the morning we’ll both see you again.”

So he said good night, and went out, resolutely shutting his eyes to the abundance of good things to eat that greeted him on every side.

Thad was eagerly waiting for him, and the other could see that he was brimming over with excitement.

“Say, if it wasn’t for wanting to meet up with George so bad I’d be for dropping down river five miles, and giving this beastly old place the go-by,” he said, as Maurice came aboard.

“Why, what on earth is the matter?” asked the other, dismayed.

“Then you didn’t hear anything about it, eh?  I reckon it’s such a common occurrence around this part of the country they don’t think anything about it,” continued Thad, seriously.

“Why, whatever in the wide world are you talking about, son?” demanded Maurice, greatly puzzled to account for this new evidence of timidity on the part of his friend, who, as a usual thing, had always seemed bold enough.

“I don’t like it so close, that’s all.  I bet you I dream of the thing tonight, and every time I look up it seems like my eyes always went straight there.”

He pointed up the bank.

Maurice followed his extended forefinger to a point just a little further along, where some trees stood.

He could see some object that seemed to move to and fro like the exhausted pendulum of a clock.

Apparently it was suspended from a limb, and as Maurice caught the true significance of what his chum meant, he felt a cold chill pass through his frame.

“Say, do you mean to tell me that is a man hanging there?” he asked; and if his voice took on a sudden hoarseness, it was not to be wondered at under the circumstances.

“I just reckon it must be,” returned Thad, pleased to note that his comrade seemed just as filled with horror as he himself had been.

“But do you know it is—­did any of those coons tell you so?” persisted the other.

“N-no, because, you see, Maurice, I never noticed it when they were around.  The moon, managed to climb up while you were gone; and then I just happened to see it.  Ugh!  I’ve done mighty little else but stare at it ever since.”

“But perhaps you may be mistaken, Thad.”

“Sure; but don’t forget that we’re away down in Dixie, now; where they hang a darky without bothering trying him, if so be he’s shot a white man.  And don’t it look like it—­tell me that, Maurice?” went on the late guardian of the shanty boat.

“Oh!  I admit that it does, all right.  But if you think I’m going to let the whole night go by without investigating this thing, you’re away off.”