the cabin all to yourself. You see what to do; make yourself look as if you came from my part of the world." Thryng glanced at his watch. "Work fast, but take time enough to do it well. Say half an hour,—will that do?"
"Yas, I reckon."
Then David left him, and the moments passed until an hour had slipped away, but still the youth did not appear, and he was on the point of calling out to him, when he saw the twisted form of little Hoyle scrambling up through the underbrush.
"They're comin'," he panted, with wild and frightened eyes fixed on David's face. "I see 'em up the road, an' I heered 'em say they was goin' to hunt 'round the house good, an' then s'arch the cabin ovah Hanging Rock." The poor child burst into tears. "Do you 'low they'll shoot Frale, suh?"
"They'd not reached the house when you saw them?"
"They'll be thar by now, suh," sobbed the boy.
"Then run and hide yourself. Crawl under the rock—into the smallest hole you can. They mustn't see that you have been here, and don't be frightened, little man. We'll look after Frale."
The child disappeared like a squirrel in a hole, and Thryng went to the cabin door and knocked imperatively. It was opened instantly, and Frale stood transformed, his old, soiled garments lying in a heap at his side as if he had crept out of his chrysalis. A full half hour he had been lingering, abashed at himself and