scowling. They were not to the mountains born; they came from the
gentle lowlands by the sea,--from broad plantations and pleasant
byways, from the tidewater country. He was the leader on this ugly
night, and yet they were the masters; they followed, but he led at
their bidding. They had known him for less than six hours, and yet
they put their lives in his hands; another sunrise would doubtless see
him pass out of their thoughts forever. He served the purpose of a
single night. They did not know his name--nor he theirs, for that
matter; they took him on faith and for what he was worth--five
dollars.

"Are those the lights of the town?" panted one of the masters, a throb
of hope in his breast. The tall man paused; the others came up beside
him. He stretched a long arm in the direction of the twinkling lights,
far ahead.

"Yas, 'r," was all that he said.

"How far?" demanded the other laboriously.

"'Bout fo'h mile."

"Road get any better?"

"Yas, 'r."

"Can we make it by nine, think?"

"Yas, 'r."