mis-step unbalanced him and sent him to the ground, with a tremendous
crashing of the brittle twigs and dead-wood.

Springing to his feet while the young people, startled by the great
disturbance, paused where they were standing, for an instant, he hurried
back into the hidden, thicket-bordered path, now using all his
recrudescent skill of silent woods-progression, and made complete
escape, leaving them not sure that the disturbance had been caused by
human blundering and not some vagrant beast's.

Madge held back, but Layson hurried to the thicket, with gun raised
ready for a shot.

Just then, from the carefully concealed cave-entrance, came Joe Lorey,
rifle poised for trouble, eyes gleaming fiercely, evidently keyed to
meet a raid by revenuers.

It was plain enough that he believed the noise which had disturbed,
alarmed him, had been made by this young sportsman. Indeed, as he who
really had caused the uproar was, now, well on a cautious backward way
along the path by which he had come up, and the girl and Layson were the
only folk in sight, the young moonshiner's mistake was natural.

Madge, almost as much disturbed as Lorey was by the crashing in the
thickets, was looking in the direction whence the noise had come, and,
at first, did not see him. When she did she smiled at him, and called to
him, but, absorbed in study of the bluegrass youth who had so suddenly
appeared there in his secret place among the mountains in company with
the girl whom he, himself, adored, Joe did not answer her, at first.
When he did it was with nothing more than a curt nod. He was astonished