messenger who had been started with the news, evidently had not fared
well upon the way, and was, but now, arriving. "It's that nigger
wanderin' around up hyar," he mused. And then: "I'm goin' to have some
fun with him."

Silently he slipped down the path by which he had so recently ascended,
and, at a good distance from the cabin, but still well in advance of the
unhappy negro, hid behind a rock, awaiting his approach.

Old Neb, advancing, scared tremendously, was talking to himself in a
loud, excited voice.

"Oh, golly!" he exclaimed. "Dis am a pretty fix for a bluegrass cullud
gemman! Dis am a pretty fix--los', los' up heah, in de midst of wolves
an' painters!"

Joe, from behind his rock, wailed mournfully in startling imitation of a
panther's call.

The darkey almost fell prone in his fright. "Name o' goodness!" he
exclaimed. "Wha' dat? Oh--oh--dere's a painter, now!"

Joe called again, more mournfully, more ominously than before.

Neb's fright became a trembling panic. "Hit's a-comin' closer!" he
exclaimed. "I feel as if de debbil's gwine ter git me!" He stooped and
started on a crouching run directly toward the rock behind which Joe was
hiding.

As the old man would have passed, Joe jumped out from his ambush, and,