LITTLE SNAP, THE POSTBOY

"Looking up with dread expectations of what he was
to witness, the Post Boy reeled back in his saddle."

LITTLE SNAP
THE POSTBOY
OR
Working for Uncle Sam

BY

VICTOR ST. CLAIR

AUTHOR OF

"Cast Away in the Jungle," "From Switch to Lever,"

"For Home and Honor," "Zip, The Acrobat," etc.

PHILADELPHIA

DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER

610 South Washington Square

Copyright, 1903

By STREET & SMITH

Little Snap, The Postboy

CONTENTS

LITTLE SNAP, THE POSTBOY.

CHAPTER I.
A POSTBOY'S COURAGE.

"Has my letter come to-day?"

The dark bay horse—as fine a specimen of equine beauty and worth as ever came from the famed Blue Grass regions—ridden by the Postboy of the Kanawha, came to a standstill simultaneously with the utterance of the earnest, pleading tone, knowing in its almost human intelligence that its rider would be challenged at this particular spot and the question repeated which had been asked daily without variation for six months.

Little Snap had expected it, and on the watch, had discovered, a quarter of a mile back, a tall, gaunt figure clothed in skins and leaning heavily on a gnarled staff, standing by the wayside, under the shadows of a huge live oak.

An additional wildness was lent to the strange man's figure by the presence of a gray squirrel on either shoulder, while others gamboled at his feet, or ran up and down his lank form.

"Not to-day," replied the postboy, with an unusual softness in his voice; "not to-day, Uncle Solitaire."

"Please excuse me for troubling you, but I felt sure she would send me that letter to-day. I have waited so long. But take this to her, and I am certain that to-morrow I shall get my letter."

Then, as he had done so many times before, he handed the postboy a carefully folded piece of coarse paper, thanked him in a tremulous voice as he took it, to vanish the next moment into the heart of the wilderness hemming in the wild landscape.

"I wonder who he can be," said Little Snap, speaking his thoughts aloud, moved as he always was by the pathos of the meetings in this lonely place. "I would give my quarter's salary to know his life secret; but that is something no one I have ever met knows. It is singular that he should be able to bury himself in these woods so completely as to defy all attempts to find his stopping place. I suppose this paper is as blank as all the others have been."

Though he could not have told the reason for it, he had always unfolded these scraps of paper before throwing them away. He always felt, too, a sort of awed feeling as he gazed on the spotless pages, innocent of conveying any message, unless outside of the power of pen or pencil.

His surprise may be imagined on this occasion, therefore, when he unfolded the sheet to find a few lines of closely written manuscript.

His astonishment increasing, he read:

"Keep your eyes open; step lightly on Eagle's Tracks; fly through the Devil's Wash Bowl!"

The paper contained no signature, and puzzled over its meaning, Little Snap read it several times before he crumpled it in the hollow of his hand.

"Some foolish whim of his," he said to himself. "Come, Jack, we must move faster than we have, or we shan't get to Six Roads until midnight."

As young as he was, Little Snap, whose name, by the way, was Dix Lewis, though he was seldom addressed thus, had been carrying the mail between Upper Loop on the Kanawha and Union Six Roads, at the very base of the backbone of the Alleghany Mountains, for about two years.

The distance between the two isolated towns was nearer forty than thirty miles, but he had never lost a trip yet, and he had never felt in better spirits than on this particular afternoon.

The valley of the Great Kanawha, as the lower section of this "River of the Woods" is called, is one of the most fertile regions to be found in West Virginia; but beginning near the Greenbrier Uplands, the stream finds its course often through rocky gateways. Particularly is this the case where a narrow gorge in the Great Flat Top Mountains allow the water to escape from the rock-bound basin lying between that rugged ridge of earth and Greenbrier Mountain.

The gnarled live oak, with its blasted top, where Little Snap had met Old Solitaire so many times, stood on the west side of the ascent leading to the Narrows, where the road wound over a spur of the mountain, to descend into one of the wildest valleys even the hackneyed landscape of the Old Dominion can show.

For nearly a mile, a natural shelf of rock formed the roadbed, which actually hung out over the chasm of the Kanawha, that found its way along the rocky bottom a hundred feet below.

Just beyond the Narrows in the first stage of the descent was a place called "Eagle's Tracks," where a bolt of lightning or some other work of nature had torn the rocks asunder so as to make the passage more difficult than at any other spot.

As he reached this locality the postboy instinctively looked about him, as if expecting some unseen foe would spring upon him from behind the bowlders piled one on the other.

Almost at his feet lay the rock-rimmed valley known by the grewsome name of "Devil's Wash Bowl."

The ascent on the opposite side was less abrupt, while in the far distance, rising high above all the lesser ranges, loomed the Alleghany Mountains, looking like a mighty wave on the sea of space.

But Little Snap had passed through this rugged scenery too often for his gaze to rest upon it now.

"Pah!" he exclaimed, "I am foolish. Of course, they were but idle words, though it does——"

"Hold up, younker!" suddenly broke in a harsh voice, giving an abrupt ending to his low speech. "We have a word to say to ye."

Simultaneous with the command, two burly figures sprang from behind a big bowlder by the wayside, and while he who spoke leveled a short-barreled shotgun at his head, the second seized hold of Jack's bit.

"What do you mean by? stopping me?" demanded the surprised postboy. "Let go there, Hawk Burrnock, so I can pass on."

"In a minnit, Dix Lewis; don't git onpatient, fer ye hev got time 'nough to git to Six Roads on tick. Ye hev a letter we want."

"Then come along with me and you can get it at the post office."

"We want it here—now!" and the firearm in the man's hand shook ominously.

"But I have no right to open the mail pouch on the road like this. If I am not mistaken, your mail comes to the Hollow Tree. Mr. Shag will let you have it there."

"He won't, younker, 'cos ye air goin' to let us hev it here!"

Little Snap knew the man by sight, but better by reputation as one of the most dangerous men living, and belonging to a gang called "bushbinders."

"I tell you I am not allowed to open the mail anywhere. Come along——"

"Mebbe ye air 'fraid we'll rob it; but to show ye thet we air on th' square, we'll stand back ten feet, while ye git out th' document. It's sent to dad, Bird Burrnock. Kem, don't keep us waitin' till dark. I sw'ar no Dan Shag shall open a letter b'longin' to our family."

"Yas; hurry up," added the other, who was a brother of the first speaker.

Little Snap knew that his situation was a desperate one, and that there was small chance of his getting off without yielding to the ruffians. Still he quickly decided to baffle them if it lay in his power.

How to do that was a difficult question.

"Air ye goin' to do it?" demanded Burrnock, "or shall we hev to take it from ye? 'Pears to me ye oughter thank us fer bein' perlite 'nough to let ye handle the ol' sack."

"I repeat that I cannot do it, as much as I would like to oblige you. It would be against——"

"Bah! ye could do yit ef ye felt like yit. Uncle Sam need never know ye hev tampered with yit, 'less ye air fool 'nough to tell. Kem, once more, an' fer the las' time, I ax ye to hand over dad's letter. Why, it's his'n, an' ye hev no bizness to keep yit."

Little Snap had already formed a plan of action, which, if desperate, was only in keeping with his situation.

He said:

"You say you will stand back ten feet, and will not touch me while I am finding the letter?"

"Ye hev coined my idee, only there's to be no foolin'. Shoot ye, true ez preachin', ef ye show the fust sign o' treachery. D'ye cave?"

"I'll do all I agree, if you will keep your word. As I dismount, you must step back, and upon your knees you must promise you will never tell a living soul I opened that mail pouch."

As Little Snap spoke he slipped from the saddle into the middle of the road, the outlaws at the same time falling back a few feet.

"Rip th' ol' sack open lively, 'cos we an't got enny time to fool 'way," growled Buzzard Burrnock, as he loosened his hold on the bridle.

"You promise never to betray me?" questioned the postboy, putting his hand up to the mail pouch, though not to remove it from its position on faithful Jack's back, but to be sure that it was securely in place.

"We promise," declared the outlawed brothers in the same breath.

"Away, Jack, old boy!" cried Little Snap, sharply, dealing his trained horse a smart blow with the flat of his hand. "On to Greenbrier!"

Then, before the surprised twain could recover enough to prevent him, the gallant Jack leaped forward at the top of his speed, his body swaying to and fro, striking Buzzard Burrnock in such a way as to send him headlong down the abyss yawning on the right side of the road.

Hawk Burrnock uttered a yell of dismay as he witnessed his brother's fate, and saw the horse dash onward down the descending way.

"The fiends take——"

He was raising his gun to fire at Little Snap as he spoke; but, in the midst of his speech and action, the intrepid postboy snatched his revolver from under his jacket, and, springing forward, dealt the outlaw a blow with its butt over the head that caused him to sink to the ground with a groan.

"I didn't like to do it," said Little Snap, as he stood over the prostrate figure, "but he drove me to it. I do not think he is killed. He will soon come around all right. Wonder how Buzz Burrnock has fared," stepping at the same time to the edge of the bluff to look into the depths.

A dark object caught in a thicket of bushes clinging to the side of the chasm twenty or thirty feet below soon resolved itself into the figure of a man.

"He isn't as bad off as he might be," mused Little Snap. "Well, I will leave the precious pair to look after themselves."

The clatter of a horse's hoofs in the Devil's Wash Bowl at that moment told that Jack had reached the foot of the descent and was beginning to climb the opposite heights.

The postboy quickly placed his hand to his lips in such a way as to emit a short, sharp whistle, which rang up and down the valley with a peculiar clearness.

CHAPTER II.
THE MISSING MAIL.

No sooner had Little Snap's shrill note rang on the air than the sound of the hoof strokes suddenly ceased, and a glad whinny answered him.

"Noble Jack!" exclaimed the postboy; "I wouldn't give you for all the horses I ever knew, and I love them all. You are the best friend I have."

"Quickening his pace, he descended into the huge basin denominated the Wash Bowl, meeting Jack, who was retracing his course at the bottom.

"Good Jack!" said the young master, gently, while he patted the head of the faithful steed affectionately. "But we must tarry here no longer. On, my boy, to Greenbrier."

Then Little Snap bounded lightly into the saddle, and, with a hasty glance backward, urged Jack away from the lonely place, half expecting to be attacked by some foe springing from behind the frowning rocks at every moment.

But, to his relief, the ascent was made without molestation, and from the summit he looked down upon the little town of Greenbrier in the valley of the river of that name with a feeling of comparative safety.

The post office at this lively hamlet was managed by a woman by the odd name of Budd Grass, who had received her appointment about the time Little Snap had begun to carry the mail.

The postboy dashed along the crooked street, lined with its rude habitations, until he came in sight of the post office, where he saw the postmistress standing in the doorway, an anxious look upon her handsome features.

She was a woman of about thirty, and had won Little Snap's friendship at the first.

"You are late," she said, by way of greeting. "I began to get anxious about you, for I have heard reports of trouble among the bushbinders, and I was fearful they might molest you. You have had trouble of some kind."

Two or three loafers were in the office, and just outside of the door Little Snap saw a younger brother of the twain he had met so unceremoniously on Eagle's Tracks, so he did not say what he wished.

Instead he said:

"Did you ever know me to run into any trouble I could not get out of, Budd?"

"Not a bit, Dix Lewis," replied the postmistress, taking the pouch and retiring to the little room dignified by the name of "private office."

While she was sorting the mail, Little Snap returned to the side of Jack, and caressing the animal's arched neck, began to talk to it in a way he often did.

In the midst of his affectionate treatment of his loved horse, the postboy felt a hand laid on his shoulder, and, turning, he saw Pewee Burrnock standing by his side.

"Meet Hawk and Buzz up yonder?" asked the bushbinder, tersely, jerking his thumb over his shoulder as he spoke, in the direction of the mountain crossing.

At first thought the postboy was at a loss how to reply, but he quickly decided that it was best to tell the truth if he said anything, so he replied:

"Yes."

"Any trouble?"

"None but what we could settle among ourselves."

"Good. An' here I want to tell yer it'll be best fer ye to be on the square with th' boys. Understand!"

"I think I do. At any rate, I shall try and do my duty, Mr. Burrnock."

A puzzled look came over the swarthy countenance of the bushbinder, as he was not fully satisfied with the postboy's reply, but before he could speak again, Budd Grass appeared upon the scene with the mail bag. As she handed it to Little Snap, she whispered:

"Look sharp! you are threatened with trouble."

Dix Lewis would fain have asked her what she meant, but he could not do so without arousing the attention of Pewee Burrnock, which he did not think advisable to do.

Accordingly, he bade her "good-day," and rode away from the office at a smart canter.

Before leaving Greenbrier, however, he called upon one of the leading citizens, whom he believed he could trust, to give him an account of the attack of the Burrnock brothers, the other listening to his story with amazement.

"By Jones, Dix! I don't like the looks of that. But I don't want to scare you off the route. You may not hear anything more from them. I will see that Rimmon goes up that way to find out if they have taken care of themselves. If there is any further trouble of this kind, let me know."

"Jack leaped forward, his body striking Buzzard Burrnock and
sending him headlong down the side of the abyss."

Thanking Mr. Drayton for his kind words, Little Snap resumed his journey, meeting with no adventure until he reached the next office on his route.

This was no doubt one of the most singular post offices in the country. It was called the Hollow Tree, and there was not a house within sight of the lonely spot.

As Little Snap reined up at the place, a man with a slouching figure, and a sort of hangdog look upon his sunburned features, stepped from a hollow pine to reach for the pouch.

He was Dan Shag, a notorious character in that vicinity, of whom nothing very bad was known, though he was a person of few friends.

This office afforded the mail facility for the inhabitants of "Blazed Acre," an isolated settlement of lawless people, among whom dwelt the bushbinders. The place was three miles and a half back from the post road, and reached only by a bridle path.

"It's purty light to-day," said the postmaster, as he took the mail pouch from the postboy and carried it into the Hollow Tree, that had been fitted up in a rude sort of way with recesses for the few letters and papers making up the intercourse the people of the Blazed Acre had with the outside world.

While Dix waited for Dan Shag to sort the mail, a quartet of ill-looking men, whom he recognized as representatives of the isolated settlement, emerged from the growth surrounding the Hollow Tree and shambled up to the spot.

"Meet th' boys up yonder?" asked the foremost of the newcomers, jerking his thumb over his shoulder after the manner of Pewee Burrnock.

He was Robin, another of the brothers of that name, more repulsive-looking than any of the others, if that were possible.

Little Snap nodded.

"Any trouble?"

Before the postboy could reply, Dan Shag reappeared upon the scene with a startled look upon his face.

"What does this mean, boy?" he demanded, fiercely.

"I don't understand you," replied Little Snap, in surprise.

"Where's the package for Hollow Tree? The letters and things, I mean," he added, seeing Little Snap's look of amazement.

"In the bag with the rest," said the postboy.

"There ain't a dratted thing, an' there's alwus a big bundle o' Wednesdays."

"You must have overlooked it, Dan. I heard Belmont, at the Salt Works, say there was a larger package than common. It must be there."

CHAPTER III.
"I WILL BE BACK."

By this time the loafers about Hollow Tree were thoroughly alive to the situation, and Little Snap imagined that Robin Burrnock was looking on with great satisfaction.

"Of course there was!" exclaimed the excited Shag. "What hev ye done with it, you young scamp?"

"What do you think I have done with it, Mr. Shag?" demanded Little Snap, fearlessly. "If it is not there now, I know no more where it is than you do."

"Say I have taken it, do yer?" cried Shag, fiercely. "Ye shall eat 'em words, boy."

"That's it, Dan!" broke in one of the spectators, a big, red-whiskered bushbinder. "If ye want enny help, call on me.

"Reckon I can handle sich a leetle ginger bub es he," replied the postmaster. "Here's the sack; see if the Hollow Tree package is there fer yerself."

Little Snap was standing by the side of Jack, and about six feet from the entrance to the Hollow Tree. Bidding the horse to remain quiet, he entered the opening, upon the bottom of which lay the mail pouch.

Giving this a kick toward him, Shag returned to his retreat behind a barrier of poles with which the inclosure had been partitioned off.

"It is not here," said Little Snap, when he had hastily examined the small amount of mail matter left in the pouch.

"Then where is it?"

"I do not know."

"I should like to know if it isn't your bizness to know? I shall take the trouble to report yer at headquarters. It isn't th' fust time I have missed letters, though I hev waited to git dead evidence agin' yer afore I blowed.

"Boys, I call on yer to prove thet he 'lows th' Hollow Tree mail ain't here."

"P'raps he's got yit 'bout his duds," ventured Robin Burrnock.

"S'arch him," exclaimed one of the speaker's companions.

The four started forward as if they would carry out the intention.

Little Snap had picked up the sack, and, with it lying across his left arm, stood in the opening answering for a doorway to the "office."

The quartet stopped suddenly in their advance, either lacking the courage to attack the determined boy, or waiting for an order from the postmaster to do so.

"It's no use for us to git mixed up in th' muss," said the latter, directly. "He's under Uncle Sam; but ye can count on me to report him in short meter."

Without replying, Little Snap threw the pouch over Jack's back and fastened it to a ring in the pommel of the saddle. Then, while the five looked on in silence, he sprang into his seat.

"This is only th' beginnin' o' th' end," said Dan Shag, shaking his fist after the departing postboy.

The country, after leaving the Hollow Tree, was less broken, the post road winding through a desolate region, thinly populated, and often lonely in the extreme.

While trying in his mind to solve the mystery of the disappearance of the Hollow Tree mail, Little Snap allowed Jack to take his own gait, until the Greenbrier River had been reached and he had passed over the pole bridge.

"It is hardly possible that Budd Grass dropped it when she sorted the mail at her office, though it is not very likely," he thought. "I will speak to her about it to-morrow. But if she did do that, she has found it before this and sent it on to Hollow Tree. Of course it will come out all right, for I can't see as I am to blame. At any rate, I expect more trouble from those Burrnocks than from the loss of that mail. What can be on foot among the bushbinders? I have it! Perhaps some of them stole the missing mail! But, how?"

Jack quickened his pace, and, naturally light-hearted, his rider was putting the thoughts of his late adventures from his mind, when a sharp voice called upon him to stop, while a wild, elfish-looking figure sprang suddenly into the middle of the road at the imminent risk of being trampled under the feet of the post horse.

"Hello!" exclaimed Little Snap, reining in Jack, with an abruptness which threw the creature back upon its haunches. "What is the trouble? and how is it you throw yourself under my horse's very feet?"

"Oh, mister! father is lost! Jim is gone, too! An' we can't find Fenn. So come with me—quick!"

The speaker was a girl of thirteen or fourteen, who would not have been bad looking had it not been for the coatings of tan and dirt masking her pinched face. She was quite tall for her age, with a slender figure clothed in a gingham gown several sizes too large for her. Her head and feet were bare, except for the thick covering of dirt on the latter and the heavy mat of brown hair on the former.

She was fearfully excited over something, and while she spoke she sawed the air with her long arms in a frantic manner.

"What has happened?" asked the postboy, in genuine alarm.

"Oh, dad and the boys are gone!"

"Gone where? Calm yourself, and then tell me what you want."

"I can't stop. Mebbe they are killing now! They crawled into that dark place, and they ain't never come out. Ye must go with me!" and she caught hold of Little Snap's arms, nearly pulling him from his seat.

I don't understand you. Stop right where you are until you can begin at the beginning and tell me what has happened. Who are you?"

I'm Tag Raggles, and me and my folks have jess come from Little Forks, and was going to the Blazed Acres. We stopped jess ayont here, when, seeing a big, black hole in the ground, dad 'lowed it mought lead somewhere. So he crawled inter it; but he ain't come back! Jim went arter him, and he ain't got back. Fenn, he went arter 'em, and he ain't come back. Marm got scared well nigh to death, and she sent me down here to hail the fust person to go past. You'll come with me, mister?"

"I can't stop. Don't be alarmed about them; they will come back all right in a short time. No doubt they have come before this."

"No, no! Marm and me hollered and hollered, but it weren't any good. I 'lowed I weren't afraid to go in there, but marm, she wouldn't let me. She's erbout crazy. You must go with me. It's only a little way, and you can ride up there on your hoss if you want ter."

As much as he disliked to lose the time, Little Snap felt that it was his duty to go to the assistance of the bereaved family. There could be no deception in the girl's action. She was too much in earnest for that.

"You will go?"

"Yes; lead the way."

Her face brightened, as with a low exclamation of delight, she bounded away from the road along a faintly defined path leading into the depths of the wilderness.

At intervals Little Snap saw the marks of wheel tracks in the sparsely grown sward, and the footprints of oxen's feet occasionally were to be seen.

Presently, when he had begun to think he had gone far enough, they entered a clearing in the growth near to the banks of a small stream, which flowed on toward the Greenbrier.

On the farther side of this valley the postboy discovered a white-topped wagon drawn up in the shadows of the forest, while a short distance away a pair of cattle lazily clipped the long grass.

But he quickly turned from these, as a tall, slatternly-dressed woman of uncertain age advanced swiftly from the base of bluff overlooking the northern side of the opening, saying, in an excited tone:

"Yer found one, Tag. I'm so glad yer hev come, sir. It's a desprit fix we air all in."

Though her explanation was hardly more easily understood than the girl's had been, Little Snap learned that soon after her family had stopped in the valley for a rest in their journey, her husband had discovered the entrance to a cavern, and curious to know where it led, he had crawled into the opening, but did not return.

Growing anxious over his long absence, her oldest boy, man grown, had followed his father, without giving any sign of his fate. In great excitement by this time, the second son had gone after his father and brother, and, like the others, nothing more had been seen or heard of him.

"It is terrible!" moaned the woman, wringing her hands. "They must be dead, and I am left here alone in this wilderness with these three little girls. Isn't there anything you can do?"

Little Snap had begun to examine the mouth of the cave, but as far as he could look in he could only see the rugged walls of the narrow passage leading gradually downward into the earth until lost in the darkness of the underground retreat.

The opening was about two by three feet, and had been concealed by overhanging bushes.

"I thought a bad smell kem from th' place," said the woman. "Perhaps they were stifled by gas. I have heard of sich things."

"Or been eat up by snakes," said Tag Raggles.

Thrusting his head and shoulders into the gloomy recess, Little Snap shouted at the top of his voice to the missing men, but only the hollow echoes of his cries, which seemed to reverberate from a long distance away, answered him.

"Thet ain't enny use, fer I hev hollered till I'm hoarse," declared Mrs. Raggles, the tears coursing down her thin cheeks, while she wrung her hands in the abandon of her grief. "Durst ye go in there, mister?"

"Yes; I am going," replied the postboy, preparing to enter the mysterious place.

"Do be careful," implored Mrs. Raggles. "You won't be gone long, will you?"

"I will be back in a few minutes—if I come at all. I shall——"

Little Snap's speech ended with a startling exclamation.

CHAPTER IV.
WHAT LITTLE SNAP SAW.

Before entering the unknown dangers of the mysterious cave, Little Snap had seen that Jack was standing a short distance away, as complacently as might be.

"If I do not come back, Jack, go on to Daring's Diamond with the mail," he said, speaking as if to a human being.

The intelligent animal pricked up his ears, and answered with a low whinny.

The postboy's body was inside the mouth of the cavern when he had begun the speech to Mrs. Raggles.

It was too dark for him to see more than that the underground pathway descended at an angle of about forty-five degrees. But the moment his feet touched upon this portion of the rock he suddenly found himself slipping down the decline at a rapid rate.

In vain he threw out his hands to stop himself. The surface was like glass, over which he shot with the rapidity of lightning.

He may have uttered a cry at the outset, but the shock was so sudden and thrilling that he was unconscious of it if he did so. His whole attention was centered upon trying to check his fearful momentum.

He was carried onward near to the right wall, and he succeeded in catching upon the rough surface twice during his wild passage.

The first time his hands slipped upon the wet, slimy rock, the mishap seemed to give greater impetus to his descent. Profiting by this failure, he seized upon another projection with a firmer hold, but the rocky knob broke away beneath his weight, and the piece went flying from his bleeding fingers ahead of him on the downward course.

Its collision with the glassy floor caused a dull reverberation to go through the subterranean recesses, quickly followed by a sharp splash of water!

This last sound came from below him, and Little Snap had barely time to understand that an abyss of great depth yawned at his feet before he was upon its very brink.

The warning from the stone came barely in season for him to renew his efforts to catch on the rugged wall, which he did with more vigor than before.

Again he found his hold broken, by the fearful momentum with which he was carried on, but the shock was such that he was lifted up clear from the rock and carried completely over the chasm.

Striking on the very rim of the farther side, he managed to keep from falling backward into the pit by a herculean effort.

The next moment, quite overcome by the ordeal, he sank upon the rock in a sort of stupor. He soon rallied, however, when he tried to penetrate the gloom around him sufficiently to note his surroundings.

Though his eyes grew more accustomed to the blinding gloom in a few minutes, and it was less painful to his gaze, he was unable to see the nearest object with any certainty. Singularly enough, a dull, gray ring lay at his feet.

This he knew marked the abyss which he had so narrowly escaped. The spot was oblong in shape, and about six feet in width by ten or twelve in length.

Not a sound broke the oppressive stillness of the cavern, save a faint murmur borne up from the depths like the gentle plashing of slowly moving water.

By this time Little Snap had come to the conclusion that the unfortunate Raggles, father and sons, had come to an untimely fate by falling into the abyss, having been killed outright by the fall.

With no way to estimate the distance to the bottom of the place, all that seemed possible for him to do was to return to the outside world.

But was this possible for him to do?

He had crossed over the abyss, but how was he to get back? Little Snap, as fertile as he was in resources, for once was baffled.

Finding that there was no chance for him to pass over by clinging to the wall on either side, he concluded to explore the passage beyond, with the hope that he might find some other way of exit.

Slowly and carefully he groped his way along for several yards, finding that the passageway followed a zig-zag course as it penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of the earth.

Its course, however, was no longer downward, but on a comparatively level plane. This gave him additional courage to press on.

The walls had been high enough for him to stand upright soon after passing the entrance.

With but a faint idea of how far he was going from the mouth of the cavern, he pursued the winding passage for what seemed a long time to him, when, suddenly, after turning an abrupt angle, a light flashed in the space ahead.

This caused him to stop with surprise, and he was about to shout for joy, feeling that he had at last found his way to daylight, when his outburst was checked by the sound of a human voice!

Naturally of a cautious disposition, he carefully suppressed all sound, until he should know whom he was to meet in that most unlikely place.

He soon realized that it was not daylight which had sent such a ray of hope to his heart, but the flickering glare of a torch stuck in one of the crevices of the cavern's rocky walls.

The first voice was quickly followed by another, and unable to see the speakers, he crept forward as silently as possible on his hands and knees, until he found himself at the end of the passage, and where it opened out into a large underground room—larger than he could see by the feeble light of the resinous pine knot.

Near the flickering torch, sitting squat upon the rocky floor, he was amazed to behold four men, evidently holding an earnest conversation.

Ordinarily, the postboy would have made his presence known at once, but the words already being spoken by one of the quartet were of such a nature that he checked the salutation upon his lips and listened, with bated breath, to the following dialogue:

"The first person to get out of the way is that postboy."

The speaker was a man above medium height, judging as he sat upon the bottom of the cavern, and he spoke in a deep, guttural tone.

He had small, snakish eyes, and the most prominent feature of his round face was a heavy, reddish mustache. He had the appearance of being a military person.

All of the four were strangers to Little Snap, who was listening intently for the next utterance.

The following speaker was a short, thickset man, with a closely-trimmed gray beard, who said:

"That won't be a big job."

"I ain't so sure o' it," remarked a third, younger than the others, and smaller of stature. "Shag says——"

A warning gesture from the first spokesman caused him to stop with his sentence unfinished.

"No names are allowed to be spoken here," growled he who was evidently leader of the party. "Don't fergit yourself again, man."

"I reckon we air safe 'nough here," retorted the other. "I'll warrant there ain't a soul nearer'n Hollow Tree."

"Never can be too careful; rocks have ears sometimes. I could have sworn I heard a man's voice not ten minutes ago. But it's you we came here to hear talk," nodding his head toward the last person of the quartet, who had remained quiet so far. "What have you learned?"

"Much that is mighty pleasing," replied the last, in a tone which caused the concealed postboy to start with surprise.

"Hark! I thought I heard some move!" exclaimed the chief, half starting to his feet.

"'Pears to me ye air mighty skeery to-day," growled he who had accidentally spoken the name of the postmaster at Hollow Tree.

Little Snap crouched closer to the rock in breathless silence, fearful he had betrayed himself.

When he had become reassured that such was not the case, he scrutinized the fourth speaker more closely, but without discovering a familiar feature. In the midst of his speculative study the man said:

"Yes; everything is working in our favor. I have seen him at Six Roads, and he tells me he will back us in all we undertake. He will look after that end of the route. We have already got at least three of the offices under our thumb. He says he can cook the goose of that upstart who thinks he can run the Kanawha any way he chooses. The governor says for us to keep still until he can carry out a little plan of his, and then——"

"Men get rusty lying around in the damp," said the chief.

"Better get a little rusty than to take too much risk. It's my opinion we can do no better than to wait his move."

"What will the Acreites do while we loll around?"

"Let 'em do what they please; we ain't going to leave a grease spot of them before we get through. I tell you it is the biggest scheme ever afoot since the days of old Burr, and when we have carried out our plans we can snap our fingers at even Uncle Sam."

"That all sounds well, but I ain't so much confidence in that old duffer at Six——Hello! what's up?"

The abrupt appearance of a newcomer upon the fitful scene caused every man of the four to spring to his feet, and instinctively each sought the firearm he carried at his side.

"It is only our guard," said the chief, as he recognized the intruder. "What is up, Blake? Anything wrong?"

"There are strangers in the valley!" replied the newcomer.

CHAPTER V.
CLOSE QUARTERS.

"Have we been found?" asked the four in the same breath.

"Not that I know of. The party that I meant seem to be a family stopped here for a rest, though I could not see anything of the men folks. They may be off gunning."

"If there is no danger, what did you alarm us for?" demanded the chief.

"I ain't through yet," replied the other, doggedly. "There is some one else in the valley besides them. Perhaps he came with them."

"Who is this other? Why don't you pack your ideas up together?"

"I ain't seen the chap himself," continued the man, in his deliberate way, "but the postboy of the Kanawha is somewhere around about these diggings."

Had a thunderbolt fallen among them the men could not have shown greater surprise.

"Where is he?" the four asked, again using the same words.

"I tell you I don't know. His horse is on the other side of the bluff, feeding as quietly as you please. The mail sack in on his back. Perhaps he has throwed his rider."

"Dix Lewis in this region!" exclaimed the chief, ignoring the last statement of the messenger. "There is work for us to do, boys! Come——"

At this juncture, the torch, which, unnoticed by all, had been dying out, flared up for an instant and then went out, leaving the little group enveloped in darkness.

"The furies!" cried one of the men. "Who's got anything to make a light?"

"Follow me!" commanded the chief, "and let the light alone. We must find that boy without any loss of time. His presence here at this——"

Little Snap failed to catch the rest, but he had heard enough to know that he must be active, too. From the sounds, he knew the party were leaving their underground rendezvous.

Aware that it would not do for these men to capture his horse with the mail, his mind was filled with conflicting plans of action. His first impulse was to return the way he had come, but he realized that it would be impossible for him to cross the chasm, even could he scale the slippery ascent beyond. Possibly, if he were coming the opposite way, he might leap the abyss, though that would be extremely doubtful.

Only one avenue of escape seemed open to him, and that was to follow upon the heels of his enemies!

He had not a moment to lose if he did this, and, without further consideration, he glided across the cavern room in the direction taken by the five men.

Guided by the sounds of their advance, while moving as noiselessly as possible himself, Little Snap threaded the circuitous passage, keeping but a few yards behind them.

After a short distance, the way began to ascend by irregular stone steps, to climb which Little Snap had to exercise great caution not to betray his presence. Once, as the party suddenly paused, he found himself within a few feet of the group, but owing to the darkness he was not discovered.

"Hang it!" exclaimed the chief, after a moment's stop, "I have dropped that letter somewhere. I think it must be where we were sitting. Blake, go back and find it; and then keep a watch over the entrance to the cave until we return."

Little Snap held his breath at the sound of this order, and when he heard the man turning back, he felt that he was lost.

Without losing his presence of mind, he shrank back as close to the nearest wall as he could, and silently awaited the approach of the other.

He hadn't long to wait, for the next moment Blake's heavy step told that he was near at hand. Then the postboy felt his bulky form brush against him!

"I shall be glad when we get out of this place!" muttered the man, as he stumbled on past the crouching figure of our hero.

During this time the others were leaving the cavern, and as soon as he dared, Little Snap started forward, feeling now that every moment was of infinite value to him.

A little farther on a streak of daylight struggling into the dismal pathway told that they were approaching the end of the passage.

In fact, the men were already crawling out of the small aperture that afforded an exit from the cave.

As closely as he dared, Little Snap followed after them, and when he could no longer hear their movements he ventured to peer out. As at the other place of entrance, the mouth of the cavern was overgrown with stunted bushes, so as to be well concealed from sight. He found, too, that the spot was nearly twenty-five feet from the ground, it being midway up the side of the bluff.

A small stone rattling down the side of the declivity, passing within a few inches of his head, warned him of the close proximity of his enemies.

It also told him that they had ascended to the top of the cliff. In fact, that seemed the only way of escape from the place, as the rock descended smooth and perpendicular to the bottom.

With greater caution than ever, he noiselessly scaled the ascent in the footsteps of the four men, who were hastening to find him.

As his head came on a level with the top of the rocky heights, he discovered them approaching the opposite side, creeping cautiously toward the edge overlooking the clearing where the Raggles family had camped, and where he had left Jack.

A movement below him at that moment warned him of the return of Blake from his search for the missing letter. Glancing downward, he saw the head of the other appearing in the mouth of the cave!

Little Snap began to realize that he was in close quarters.

To retreat would be to throw himself into the arms of the enemy behind, while it would be even greater madness to ascend to the summit.

No sooner had Little Snap taken a hasty survey of his situation than he decided that by following along the side of the bluff he might reach a place where he could descend in safety to the valley.

With an agility belonging to one of his years, he advanced on the side of the cliff, finding a foothold in some crevice of the ledge or on a bush, and clinging with a tenacious hold to its precarious support.

But he had not gone half a dozen yards before a sharp cry from Blake told that he had been discovered.

"Here he goes!" shouted the excited man, regardless of all caution now.

The cries were answered by a great commotion among those on the summit, and he heard the chief call out some question he did not understand.

"He's climbin' along th' rock!" cried Blake. "Head him off, an' ye hev got him!"

The next instant four heads were thrust over the brink within a rod of where Little Snap was suspended in midair!

"Hold up where you are!" commanded the chief, whose sharp eyes had discovered the fugitive.

Without stopping to reply, the postboy dropped from the bush supporting him in a diagonal direction to another several feet below.

"Don't let him get away!" cried the chief.

"Hold up there, boy, where you are, and we won't hurt you! Stop, or we will end your career at once. We hold your life in our hands."

Little Snap knew enough of the natures of the men menacing his life to feel that he was running no greater risk in trying to get away from them than he would in allowing himself to fall into their power.

Accordingly, without paying any heed to the warning, he swung himself forward and downward to a narrow shelf on the side of the ledge, where he found himself in sight of the clearing in front of the bluff.

Casting a swift glance over the scene, he saw Jack standing nearly where he had left him. He also saw Mrs. Raggles and her three girls picking up the rude utensils they had used in getting their lunch, and tossing them into the wagon. But what surprised him the most was the sight of old man Raggles and his two boys, in the act of hitching the oxen to the vehicle!

He barely took this all in at a glance, without having time to give it a second thought.

He was now about fifteen feet from the foot of the ledge, and seeing that the way was clear beyond, he unhesitatingly dropped from his precarious perch into the bushes growing near to the mouth of the cave.

As he did so, the reports of the outlaws' firearms rang out sharply on the silence of the wild woods.

Quickly regaining his equilibrium, Little Snap bounded toward the side of the surprised Jack, who looked up with wonder at his sudden approach.

CHAPTER VI.
LITTLE SNAP'S TROUBLES INCREASE.

Though Little Snap was aware that he was running the gantlet of the rifles of the bushbinders, he kept on undaunted, until he had reached the side of his horse.

The next moment he sprang lightly into the saddle, and gathering up the reins, shouted:

"Away, Jack! show them a light pair of heels!"

The faithful steed needed no urging to do this, and with the reports of the baffled men's firearms and the cries of the startled Raggles family ringing in his ears, the postboy of the Kanawha dashed furiously down the path leading to the main road from Greenbrier to Six Roads.

Not a word escaped his tightly compressed lips, until the highway was reached, when he patted his horse on the neck, saying, gently:

"Easy, now, Jack, old boy; the danger is over for the present. It was a close call, but a miss is as good as a mile, though I don't care to go through that experience again."

Slackening his gait to an easy canter, Jack bore his rider on without further urging. The truth was, the postboy's mind was busy trying to solve the subject of the meeting in the cave of the four unknown men. He was also puzzled to understand the actions of the Raggles family. While he could not believe that their story to get him into the cave had been a hoax, he was unable to understand their reappearance upon the scene.

The postboy was still trying to solve these problems, when he reached a small town called by the singular name of Daring's Diamond.

He found the postmaster, Mr. Anderson, impatiently awaiting his appearance.

"Late again," greeted the official, in a disagreeable tone.

"I could not very well help it," replied Little Snap, handing him the mail pouch.

"That is what you say every time. You are an hour overdue. Mr. Meiggs, who has just gone out, has been talking pretty loud about you. If I were in your place, I would not let this happen again. People who are having mail want it on time. It may not make any difference to the Blazed Acre cattle, but it does to civilized people, I have noticed."

It wasn't so much what the postmaster said as the way in which he said it that nettled Little Snap, though he made no reply. This Mr. Meiggs referred to was one of the postboy's bondsmen.

"I suppose you know Dan Shag has gone up to see Jason Warfield about the Hollow Tree mail?" said the postmaster, as he handed over the sack. "Of course you know; what a fool I am! He must have passed you 'tween here and the Tree."

To this Little Snap made no reply. He knew Anderson was saying these things to draw him out. The postmaster, for some unknown reason, had never acted friendly toward him.

He never could understand why.

It was never Little Snap's practice to hold much conversation with those he met on his route, and on this occasion he felt less like talking than common.

He was due at Union Six Roads, the end of his route, at eight o'clock, and it was already past that hour, it having been sunset at the time of his escape from his enemies at the cave.

"The reports of the outlaws' firearms rang out sharply on the silence
of the wild woods as Little Snap bounded toward Jack."

Thus he took the mail pouch from Mr. Anderson's hands, and throwing it on its accustomed hook, sprang into his seat before that worthy could realize he was leaving.

"Hold up a minnit!" he exclaimed, as the postboy dashed away, but not loud enough for him to hear. "Go it!" muttered the other, "I shan't forget it in my report. I reckon you'll wish you hadn't been in so much of a hurry when you come to meet old Warfield."

Little thinking of what was in store for him at his home town, the postboy urged Jack on at greater speed than common, until at last he dashed up in front of the Six Roads post office, kept by John Rimmon, who also had a small trade in groceries.

The postmaster met him at the door, with a troubled look upon his features.

"What in the world have you been doing all this time, Dix Lewis? Hold on! don't dismount. Jason Warfield left word here for me to tell you to come right up to his house the minute you got in. He wants to see you on matters of vital importance. Them's just his words."

"Well, I will run up and see just as soon as I have put Jack in the stable."

"But he said you mustn't stop for that. He said for you to be sure and come the minute you got here. By his looks and actions, it must be something of very great importance."

The Honorable Jason Warfield, as that rather pompous gentleman desired to be known, was considered one of the richest men in Monroe County. In some way, not easily understood by the easy-going inhabitants of Six Roads, a large proportion of the property in town was in his name, and it was doggedly repeated that "he had a mortgage on the rest."

Be that as it may, no move of any importance was made without consulting him, and his sanction to any undertaking was deemed sufficient to insure its success. Of course, such a man had his enemies, but as a rule he was liked.

His was the first name on the Postboy of the Kanawha's bond, and it was generally supposed that he had been principally instrumental in securing Little Snap his situation.

It was no wonder then that the postmaster looked surprised when our hero said that he was going to care for his horse before he visited Mr. Warfield.

"I wouldn't take any such chances," declared the worthy minion of the government, with an ominous shake of his grizzled locks.

Little Snap's home was but a short distance from the post office, so he was quickly there, to be met at the door by his mother and two sisters, both of the latter being younger than he, the three looking very anxious.

"Where have you been, my son?" asked his mother. "We have been so worried about you. And Mr. Warfield has been here, acting very much put out. He wants you to come up to his house as soon as possible. Something terrible has happened, I know."

"Nothing to be alarmed about, mother. But if Bess will take care of Jack, I will go right up to Mr. Warfield's, though I cannot imagine what he is so anxious to see me for."

"He is terribly excited about something. I would go at once, if I were you, and I will have your supper warm for you when you get back."

"Is father at home?" asked Little Snap.

"No; I have not seen him to-day. He stays away more than ever of late. Why did you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. Give Jack a good supper, Bess, and see that he is comfortable for the night. There, mother, don't be worried any more. I won't be gone long this time."

It was nothing unusual, as Mrs. Lewis had inferred, for John Lewis, our hero's father, to be away from home. In fact, it was very seldom he was there, and when he was he hardly ever did any work or business. He was a man of a few words and very peculiar habits. His neglect of his family had made it necessary that Dix do something for their support.

Kissing his mother, as was his practice when leaving home, Little Snap turned away to start on his visit to Mr. Warfield's, when he saw a party of men approaching the house.

"Why, it's Mr. Warfield in front!" exclaimed his mother. "He got impatient waiting for you. And there is Mr. Meiggs and Daniel Shag, of Hollow Tree, and—and Mr. Bardy, the sheriff. Oh, Dix! what does it mean?"

"Nothing to be alarmed over, I am sure, mother, so be calm."

In a louder tone of voice, he greeted the newcomers, saying:

"Good-evening, gentlemen. I was starting to come up to your house, Mr. Warfield."

"Was that the direction I left at the post office for you to follow, young man?" demanded Mr. Warfield, sternly.

"No, sir; but Jack was so tired that I thought——"

"So you put more importance upon the condition of your horse than you do the affairs of Uncle Sam?"

"Not exactly that; but I did not know you wished to see me upon government matters. I——"

"It seems to me, young man, that you should have been very anxious to see me, if I was not to see you, after what has happened to-day. Mr. Shag was so much concerned about it that he rode up here posthaste to let me know. He tells me you have lost the Hollow Tree packet of mail."

"Mr. Shag said it was missing, sir, when I got to his office; but I trust you do not think it any of my fault. Mr. Belmont——"

"The horse does not seem very badly winded," broke in Sheriff Brady, who had approached Jack, and was running his hand over the creature's body. "Ha! Mr. Warfield, I hardly think we shall have to look much farther for the missing mail. Here it is, fast enough."

Little Snap uttered a low exclamation of astonishment, as he saw the sheriff take from the little pouch he had fastened to the saddle for his convenience in carrying small articles to and fro on his trips, the missing package of mail matter!

All feelings imaginable were depicted upon the countenances of the little group surrounding the postboy.

CHAPTER VII.
"THE TRUTH IN A NUTSHELL."

"This explains why he did not wish to come up to your house with his hoss, squire," said Dan Shag, nodding his head toward the recovered package. "I thought it was best to git here as soon as possible."

The sheriff was examining the package more closely, while Mr. Warfield looked from him to the postboy with a peculiar expression upon his face.

"What does all this mean?" asked Mrs. Lewis, in an anxious voice. "My boy has done nothing wrong; I am sure of that."

"Do not be alarmed, mother," said Little Snap, gently. "Please go into the house, and I will explain it to these men."

"So you confess to the theft?" inquired Mr. Warfield, quickly, without giving Mrs. Lewis time to speak.

"No, sir. In fact, I do not know as there has been any theft."

"Don't get excited, my boy," said Mr. Warfield, in a more kindly tone than he had previously used. "We are all your friends, and are not here to injure you. Mr. Shag came up to tell me about the missing package, and I thought it was best for us to see you before it had been noised all over town. Own up to the truth and we will not be hard with you."

"I am not going to tell you anything but the truth, Mr. Warfield. How that package of mail came in my saddle pocket is more than I can explain. I certainly did not put it there, nor did I know it was there."

"Ask him if he can explain where he has been the past two hours. I came straight up here from th' Tree, an' he was sartinly not on th' road. P'raps he has a cross road by which he carries th' mail. I s'pose thet would give him more chance to look over th' letters; but is thet the way Uncle Sam expects him to carry it?"

"Mr. Warfield," said Little Snap, knowing it was not best for him to speak too freely before the rest, "I would like to see you alone for a few minutes. I think I can explain this matter in a satisfactory manner."

"Don't be afraid to speak right up before these gentlemen," said Mr. Warfield. "They are all my friends, and my friends are yours."

But Little Snap was too crafty to divulge his secret to Dan Shag, whom he did not dare to trust.

"I cannot speak here where I am liable to be heard by some one even you would not care to have hear. If you will come into my house, Mr. Warfield, I will say what I wish you to know."

"Don't ye risk yer life in his hands," said Shag. "He is armed an' a desprit chap."

"Hadn't I better arrest him now, and then give him his chance to talk?" asked the sheriff.

"Arrest my boy?" cried Mrs. Lewis. "You do—you cannot mean it."

"Be calm, mother. You have nothing to fear. They can arrest me if they wish, but I am innocent of any charge they can bring against me. On what complaint did you think you could arrest me, Mr. Brady?"

"I don't believe I would harm him yet, Jim," Mr. Warfield hastened to say. "If you have anything you wish to say to me alone, Dix, I am ready to listen."

"Come into the house, please, Mr. Warfield. I won't detain you very long."

"We'll see he don't git away," said Shag.

Without noticing Dan Shag's speech, Mr. Warfield followed Little Snap into the house in silence.

As soon as they had entered the humble sitting-room, and Mr. Warfield had sunk into the proffered chair, the postboy said to his guest:

"What I am going to tell you, Mr. Warfield, is not so much in my defense as it is to show up a startling discovery I have made. If you will allow me, I will begin with an adventure I had on Eagle's Tracks, and tell you just how I came in late to-night."

"Go ahead, only make your story as short as you can."

Then Little Snap gave a succinct account of all that had befallen him after leaving Uncle Solitaire until he had effected his escape from the cave, often interrupted by his listener with startling exclamations and puzzling questions.

"You are romancing, boy! I cannot realize half you say. Why, from your talk I should say you had unearthed a band of plotters against the government."

"I do not know just what they meant, but I do know they are a gang of evil men, who would hesitate at no means to carry their ends."

"While I am surprised at what you have said, your statements are lacking in the elements that would make them valuable as evidence. You say you did not get the real drift of the talk between the four men, and that you recognized none of them."

"I do not think I ever saw them before, though the voice of one sounded very familiar."

"Will you describe the party?"

Little Snap did so, Mr. Warfield listening intently, to say, at his conclusion:

"I do not believe we should attribute any harmful meaning to what they said. The very fact that they were strangers to both of us, and I know nearly every one in Monroe County, would seem to warrant us in believing so. By the way, do you realize the error you made in neglecting your duty to run after those worthless Raggles—I think that was the name you called those vagabonds?"

"I am aware, sir, it was a mistake. I——"

"Mistake? It was criminal neglect of duty, young man. The rules and regulations laid down by Uncle Sam are very strict. You are to keep all the mail intrusted to your hands in sight at all times, and here you went off for an hour and, according to your own story, left the mail pouch entirely unprotected. Why, that very act was enough to cost you your situation. Remember I am not upbraiding you, but speaking to you as a father would to his son."

"I know I did wrong, Mr. Warfield, but the circumstances were such that I could scarcely do different. Mrs. Raggles——"

"Don't mention their names again. From your own words, the worthless vagabonds could not have been in trouble. It seems they were safe enough when you got clear of your troubles."

"I do not understand it, Mr. Warfield. I have carried the Kanawha mail for two years without failing to do my duty, and I hope you have confidence in me to think I can fulfill my term."

"I did at the outset, or I should never have obtained the place for you. But I must feel that you are attending to your duties. My political prospects are such that I am expecting piles of mail matter, and I want to know that it is coming to me safely. My very election to Congress may depend upon it."

Mr. Warfield had been a seeker after the nomination as member for Congress from that district almost as long as our hero could remember, and he well knew that he was still in the field—"in the hands of his friends," as he expressed it.

"Mr. Warfield," said the postboy, in his quiet, determined way, "I am not going to make any new promise, but I repeat those I have made, and when you have found me faithless to my duty I will willingly make room for Mr. Shag or any other man."

The mention of the name of the postmaster of Hollow Tree made the politician wince.

"Bah! he isn't half so competent to carry the mail as your horse, Jack."

"Still he is making all of this trouble, simply because he is mad with me for getting the route when he wanted it. There you have the truth in a nutshell."

CHAPTER VIII.
"I AM STANDING ON MY OWN FEET."

"I don't know but you are right, Dix. Still, you haven't explained the worst feature of your case. How came the missing package of mail in your possession?"

"I cannot tell. Some one must have put it there, but who or when, I cannot say."

"You said it was missing before you got to Hollow Tree?"

"No, sir. I said it was not in the pouch when I looked for it at the request of Mr. Shag; but you must remember I did not see the pouch until after he had examined it, and had had the opportunity to take it out if he had chosen."

"Be careful how you make any charges you cannot back up. I must say you are exceedingly outspoken."

"I am standing on my own feet, Mr. Warfield, and I am going to tell you just what I believe is the truth. I will know the mystery of that packet of mail before I get through. You seem to forget the attack of the Burrnocks."

"On the contrary, I have been thinking of them very much, and this leads me to give you a bit of advice. I advise you to give up this mail route at once. You were too young to have undertaken it."

Little Snap looked up with surprise.

"I hardly expected that from you, Mr. Warfield."

"Excuse me, I was thinking only of your good. Those Burrnocks are desperate men, and I fear it will cost you your life to continue. Perhaps you think you cannot afford to give up so good a job, but you can better spare it than your life."

"Our living depends on my work," replied the postboy, with a quivering lip. "More than that, and what I prize infinitely higher, my honor is at stake. If I give up now, it will look as if I was guilty of the charge of taking the mail. I feel it thus my duty to stay where I am, until I have been able not only to prove my innocence but to show up the guilty ones."

"You cannot do this alone, and, of course, if those who have put you in this place do not think it prudent to back you up in your rashness, you cannot blame them."

Little Snap understood more by this statement than the mere words told, as the speaker intended he should. Drawing his boyish figure to its full height with an air which made the politician start with surprise, if not fear, he said:

"Mr. Warfield, I want to know who my friends are, and you and I might as well have an understanding at the outset as later. Of course I am very grateful to you for signing my bond and helping me so far as you have. Now, if you wish to withdraw, I shall have no ill feeling; but you must remember that Mr. Marion Calvert owns the contract for this route, and as long as he has confidence in me to carry the mail I do not expect to give way."

Little Snap was bolder in his speech than he might otherwise have been, as he knew that Mr. Warfield was anxious to keep on friendly terms with this Mr. Calvert, who had a strong political backing.

Mr. Warfield's reply, which came after a moment's hesitation, was more friendly than he had dared to expect.

"Bravo for you, Dix Lewis! Give me your hand. You are made of just the stuff to succeed, and I can see that you will do better than nine men out of ten. Your words have opened my eyes. Go ahead, and count upon me to lend you all the assistance in my power. Every dollar I have got in this world and all of my personal influence is enlisted in your behalf. I don't know how the other bondsmen feel, but you know my state of mind.

"I suppose the others are anxiously awaiting us, so let's adjourn this meeting. I will make it all right with Brady."

Little Snap, after thanking Mr. Warfield for his words, sought his mother to allay her fears.

Whatever the politician said to the Hollow Tree postmaster and Sheriff Brady he did not know, but the entire party went away at once.

"It's all right, mother," he said to her, as soon as the men had gone, "so have no further concern."

"I wish I could think so, my son; but somehow I fear there is trouble in store for you. Mr. Brady has been telling me about those Burrnocks, and he says they will kill you at the first opportunity. They are dreadful men, and I fear they would not hesitate at any crime. I wish you would give up carrying the mail, Dix; we can live somehow."

"It isn't all a living, mother; my good name is at stake now."

"The boy has too much of the blood of old John Lewis in his veins to do that, Mary," said a new voice, breaking in upon the scene before Mrs. Lewis could reply, and mother and son turned to see with surprise a tall, middle-aged man standing in the doorway.

He was Little Snap's father.

"Why, John! Where have you been?" asked Mrs. Lewis, starting toward him. "I have been so worried about you."

"No need of that, Mary. I think I ought to have shown you by this time that I am able to take care of myself."

Mr. Lewis was a man who was a mystery to all who knew him. He was generally considered mildly insane, but more often spoken of as "the man without a memory." His past life seemed to be a void to him, except at rare intervals, when a ray of light would suddenly flash across his darkened mind, to go as quickly as it had come. Of late years he had been at home but very little, though where he spent his time not even those at home knew. Of course his wife worried over his strange conduct, but as long as he was harmless and seemed, as he had said, able to care for himself, it was not thought best to keep him at home by force.

The Lewis family was one of the oldest and most respected in the valley of the Kanawha, our hero being directly descended from those gallant pioneers of the dark days of the Old Dominion, John and Samuel Lewis, well known to the pages of Virginia history.

"John," said the anxious wife, "I wish you would not be away from home so much. What is it calls you away so much? You look pale and haggard; there is some trouble."

"There is trouble, Mary, and I have been trying to think what it is. For the present we must wait, though it will all come round in good season.

"Did I tell you, my son, that you had aroused the snakes of Blazed Acre? You must carry a level head. Most of all, look out for those who profess the greatest friendship. There, that is all I can think of now. I must leave you now, Mary. I will be back again to stop longer next time."

Then, in spite of their remonstrances, he went out of the house and was not seen again that night.

Though it was late before our hero retired, he was on hand at his usual hour the following morning, and promptly at six he called at the post office for the mail pouch.

According to his instructions he was expected to leave Six Roads at six o'clock and arrive at Upper Loop at eleven in the forenoon; returning, he was to start from the last office at two in the afternoon, to get back to the home office at eight in the evening. To do this, he made a shift of horses at Salt Works, with extra animals at the end of the route to go every other day.

This was the day for Jack to rest, Little Snap riding a small, brown mare that he had named Fairy. Though not as intelligent as the bay, she was even fleeter of foot and perfectly obedient to the will of her young master.

"So you are going to try it again," said the postmaster, as he handed out the pouch. "I advise you to keep your eyes open, and not to lose sight of your business again."

Hardly knowing how to take this speech, the postboy nodded in assent, and touching Fairy lightly, dashed down the descending road toward Daring's Diamond.

It was a beautiful day in early autumn, and it was but natural a seventeen-year-old boy, full of life and activity, should throw off the cares and anxieties of his position, to break forth into snatches of song.

"I never felt so light-hearted in my life!" he cried, "and I hail it as a good omen. I can't think that you and I, Fairy, will find any such hornets' nest to come through as Jack and I did yesterday."

Thus, with a cheerfulness which puzzled those who knew of his adventures the previous day, Little Snap kept on without interruption, until he was about halfway between Hollow Tree and Greenbrier, when he was surprised to see Tag Raggles spring from the bushes by the wayside into his path.

"I want to speak to you, mister," she said.

"Well," said the postboy, reining up Fairy, and waiting for the elfin-like girl to speak.

Giving a hurried glance around, as if expecting to see some one in pursuit of her, she said:

"Dad sent me, an' he said he did yit for the kindness you tried to do him yesterday. He said for you not to go on alone. Them bad Burrnocks are laying in the rock in Devil's Wash Bowl to kill you as you go erlong! Fact!" seeing Little Snap's look of doubt on his face.

"Don't tell who told you," and before he could speak she had vanished into the depths of the woods.

CHAPTER IX.
A TERRIFIC TRAP.

It would have been difficult to describe Little Snap's feelings, as he listened to the sounds of Tag Raggles' retreat, following her strange warning.

"It may have been only a scare, after all," he mused, as he resumed his journey. "I judge the source whence it came is not very reliable. It would do me no good to speak of the affair at Greenbrier. The mere mention of the name of Burrnock is enough to give them the fits there. But I will keep my eyes open if I decide to go it alone."

Though at first he thought of mentioning the matter to the postmistress, Little Snap concluded to say nothing of the threatened danger, while determined not to be caught off his guard.

Thus he rode into the Wash Bowl that day with uncommon nervousness, and an ear and an eye trained for whatever might come. The rustling of a leaf would cause him to start, and once he felt sure he saw the outlines of a man's form behind one of the bowlders.

But no manifestation of danger presented itself, and with rising hopes he ascended the way to the Narrows, expecting now that if he was attacked at all it would be on Eagle's Tracks, where he had so narrowly escaped from the desperadoes of Blazed Acre the day before.

The trepidation on the part of the postboy does not by any means go to show that he was lacking in true courage, but it was rather the natural consequence under the circumstances.

He drew a good, long breath of relief as at last he passed over the summit and caught a wide view of the broadening valley of the Kanawha.

"The warning was a scare, or Raggles was mistaken," he said, aloud. "But I will confess it was trying. Move a little faster, Fairy."

Little Snap was never accosted by the old hermit on his downward trips, so he met with no interruption until Salt Works was reached, where he changed horses and resumed his journey with less than fifteen minutes' delay.

"Our future congressman seems to be well favored to-day," remarked the postmaster at Upper Loop, when Little Snap was ready to start on his return trip at two o'clock. "He has no less than six registered letters, and I imagine some of them are valuable."

The postboy paid little heed to this careless speech, not realizing how vividly he was to recall it before he got home.

"Well, well," said the gossipy clerk at the Salt Works office, "the Honorable Jason is in luck this time. Six registered letters, and a nomination in each one, I suppose. To speak the truth, I suspicion he would give all these letters for a seat in Congress."

Once more borne by a good steed, Little Snap began his tedious ascent over the mountain forming the huge backbone between the valleys of the Great and Little Kanawha and Greenbrier.

He found Uncle Solitaire awaiting him under the live oak, with the usual question and melancholy message, after which he reached Greenbrier without adventure.

"Six registered letters for Mr. Warfield," said the postmistress at Greenbrier, as if there was a conspiracy to keep this fact fresh in Little Snap's mind.

However, he heard nothing further of the precious letters until he had accomplished his hard day's work and given the mail pouch into the hands of Mr. Rimmon at Six Roads.

Nothing unusual had occurred at home during the day, and after supper the postboy went into the post office, where he found a dozen or more men gathered.

Whatever the subject of their conversation had been, it was suddenly dropped upon his appearance.

He did not intend to stop, and inquiring if there was any mail for those at his home, he was turning away, when he heard Mr. Warfield, in his loud tone:

"Only three, Mr. Rimmon? I am sure there ought to be more."

"That is all reaching this office, Mr. Warfield."

"They may get along to-morrow, but I was expecting three or four others, and two of them I was certain would come to-day. You must have overlooked them."

Little Snap's attention was held by these words, and instantly his mind reverted to the six registered letters. Had one-half of them failed to reach their destination?

In the midst of his speculations Mr. Warfield approached him, to inquire about his day's trip.

"Don't fail to let me know if anything unusual happens, Dix, though I hope you will get along without further trouble. Perhaps you will. By the way, I do not suppose you know anything about my registered letters?"

"I would not be expected to, would I, Mr. Warfield?" replied Little Snap, answering him with another question.

"No; I hardly suppose you would. Still you want to keep your eyes and ears open. I had some letters due to-night which have not come. But to-morrow will bring them or explain the reason of their not coming."

At the first opportunity Little Snap inquired of Mr. Rimmon concerning the letters, to learn that there were really three less than had passed through the offices on his route as far as Greenbrier to his knowledge.

"Why, there were six, Mr. Rimmon, started from Loop, and Budd Grass said there were as many at her office."

"What! That don't seem possible," replied Mr. Rimmon, in great surprise. "Who would dare to stop them?"

"That is what is puzzling me."

"Say, Dix," cried the postmaster, abruptly, "if I were you I wouldn't mention this to any one else. Don't you see, it looks bad for you."

"But I haven't had the handling of them."

"I know; but at the same time it might cause a suspicion against you. I hope they will come to-morrow. I won't say anything about them, and we will see what a day brings forth."

Not wishing to give his mother any unnecessary alarm, Little Snap said nothing of the missing letters at home, though he was troubled not a little in his mind concerning their fate.

Mr. Rimmon did not mention them the following morning, nor did any of the other postmasters on his route, so nothing disturbed the even tenor of his trip, until he was entering the gloomy region of the Devil's Wash Bowl and thoughts of the Burrnocks of Blazed Acre succeeded those of the missing letters.

Naturally enough Little Snap's gaze was fixed upon the rugged scene ahead, with that intentness born of the intuition of danger. He was passing that point in the descent into the Bowl where for a few minutes the craggy heights would be hidden from his view, when he was surprised to see a white speck appear for a moment upon the dark background.

Quickly stopping Jack, he soon saw a similar object rise above the beetling rocks of the Narrows, and after wavering for a moment in the air sink out of sight.

At a loss to know what these meant, he watched the place for several minutes, though he saw nothing further to explain the mystery.

Resolved not to be caught off his guard, if any harm was intended him, he rode cautiously forward into the valley and on up the Devil's Stairs leading to Eagle's Tracks.

Not a sound broke the solemn silence of the wild scene, save the steady tread of Jack's feet, and Snap began to breathe easier as he approached the upper edge of the Tracks and drew near the Narrows.

"In a moment I shall be around the point of rock and——"

A terrific explosion suddenly cut short his thoughts, and looking backward, he was startled to see a huge portion of the cliff overhanging the narrow road topple over and fall with a deafening crash on the spot he had just passed.

Jack jumped madly forward at the startling sound, unchecked by his rider, who was as anxious as the steed to get beyond the frowning wall of rocks.

The next moment he reached the Narrows and was almost at the angle where the way suddenly wound around to the other side of the cliff, when a second explosion, more startling than the first, broke upon the air. Looking up with dread expectations of what he was to witness, the postboy reeled back in his saddle as he saw the whole side of the ledge falling upon him, while huge blocks of stone were sent flying over his head into the chasm yawning upon his left hand.

Too late to reach safety ahead, unable to turn back, a shudder ran through his frame, as he realized that the next moment he must be crushed into a shapeless mass by the rending rock!

CHAPTER X.
LITTLE SNAP'S REMARKABLE RIDE.

The thrill of terror which ran through the postboy's form at sight of the reeling cliff swiftly descending upon him was quickly followed by the ready decision of action so natural to him.

Given but an instant in which to think and act, a less level-headed person must have been caught under the massive block of granite. Not one in a hundred would have had the nerve to do what Dix Lewis dared in that awful moment.

A glance showed him that there was only one way of escape from the falling slice of ledge, and even that led to what seemed as certain death in another form.

But there was one chance in a thousand, and that hope was enough to nerve him to action.

The sheer descent to the Kanawha was over a hundred feet at this spot, but in a wild leap down this fearful chasm lay his sole hope.

With a sharp cry of encouragement to Jack, he spurred the faithful steed forward—forward to the brink of the frightful depths, where for a moment horse and rider seemed suspended in midair.

Another shout to the trembling horse, a wild glance backward, and the Postboy of the Kanawha made the flying leap to what seemed instant death!

As he was carried downward as if on wings of air, a sharp cry rang on his ears, while his last look at the cliff had shown him the well-known figure of Buzzard Burrnock outlined with vivid distinctness on the uppermost point of the bluff.

Then his breath almost left him, and a suffocating sensation came over him, quickly ended by a loud splash of water, and the furious struggling of the gallant Jack, as he reached the surface of the rolling Kanawha.

Little Snap seemed to lose his senses for a time, and the battle which ensued on the part of his noble horse was not fully realized by him.

Fortunately, the river at this point was clear of the huge bowlders that strewed its course only a short distance above, and the deep water flowed sullenly on its way.

When our hero began to comprehend somewhat where

"As Little Snap was carried downward, a sharp cry rang on his ears."

he was, he found that Jack was swimming with the current in the middle of the stream.

Then it slowly dawned upon him that he had escaped from that wild leap with his life.

He found to his joy that the mail pouch was still hanging from its usual position.

"Saved, Jack!" he murmured. "What a fearful chance, but you brought me safely through. Keep up courage, my noble fellow, and we will soon be safe on dry land again."

This desperate ride of Little Snap's finds an equal in the mad leap of McCulloch, the brave pioneer of earlier days in Virginia, who, hunted by a party of Indians, in the vicinity of Wheeling Hill, was driven upon the bluff overhanging the creek, and, preferring death in the waters of the stream, rode off the precipice, the banks of which were higher than those of the Kanawha, where Little Snap took his fearful choice. Both the brave McCulloch and his horse escaped, as is verified by the pages of history. I know of no other instance of this kind on record, though there may be many.

Little Snap had passed beyond the point of rocks, so he had lost sight of the Narrows, though the awful sound of the breaking rock still rang in his ears.

Seeing there was no possible place for Jack to gain a foothold on either side of the river, he allowed the horse to swim on at the steed's own will.

He had lifted the mail pouch above the water, and feeling that its contents were not injured, he calmly waited the end of his adventure.

Jack must have swum nearly a mile down the stream before his rider saw a place where a landing could be effected, when he guided the course of the steed in that direction.

After a severe struggle, during which Little Snap several times felt that the attempt must be given up, the brave bay succeeded in gaining a foothold upon terra firma.

The postboy then sprang to the ground, while Jack shook the water from his dripping sides.

When he had found that the mail matter had not suffered from the water, he remounted and rode on toward Salt Works, finding his way slowly along the rugged mountain side, until at last he was gladdened by the sight of the road.

Jack soon increasing his gait to a smart canter, the distance to Salt Works was speedily passed, at which place Little Snap told his story to a wondering circle of listeners, whom it was plain to see failed to think that his story could be the truth in full.

"The road will have to be cleared before I can get back," said our hero. "It must be completely blocked by the rock."

"It doesn't come in our district," said the postmaster, "but I will endeavor to get word up to Greenbrier about it. They would never find it out if I didn't."

Leaving Jack here, Little Snap continued his journey with his relief horse, making his trip to Upper Loop and return without adventure.

To his disappointment here, however, he learned that the rocky débris had not been cleared away at the Narrows.

"It will not be your fault if you do not go through," said the postmaster. "I advise you to remain with us until the road has been opened."

But Little Snap did not like to do this if it was possible for him to get to Six Roads. Besides feeling it his duty to carry the mail through, he was anxious to get home on his mother's account.

"I will ride up to the Narrows, and if I find it impossible to go farther I will come back," he replied, starting at once upon his way.

After leaving the noisy settlement of Salt Works, he did not expect to see a person until he should reach Greenbrier, should he be so fortunate as to pass the Narrows, with the exception of Uncle Solitaire. Thus, as he came in sight of the live oak, as he had always done, he looked for the old hermit, wishing that the one from whom he hoped to receive tidings might send the long looked for letter.

As he drew near to the place, the chirping of the squirrels reached his ears, and he saw them running across the road and up and down the tree. As he continued to approach, one of the frisky creatures ran down to meet him, darting to and fro in the road as he advanced.

Something seemed to trouble the little troupe of noisy, uneasy denizens of the forest, which was accounted for when the postboy came to look for the old man in vain.

Uncle Solitaire was not at his post!

Little Snap paused, thinking he might be coming near at hand, and when he failed to appear he shouted his name. Only the chirping of the squirrels answered him.

One of these, as if anxious to tell him why its master was not on hand, actually ran up to the postboy's shoulder, remaining there as he rode on, wondering what had caused the strange man's non-appearance.

When he had gone a few rods the squirrel jumped to the ground, and with a louder chirp, ran back to rejoin its mates.

"It is the first time in six months, rain or shine, he has failed to be here. I wonder if he is sick?"

He was still thinking of the old hermit, when he was startled by the sudden appearance of a gaunt, stooping figure beside his horse as he began the ascent to the Narrows.

"Don't be skeert, younker," said a harsh, grating voice from the stranger. "We kem es friends. I'm Ab Raggles, an' this hyur is my fust boy, Beeline Raggles."

As he finished speaking a second figure, very similar to the first, save for the changes made by the difference in years, suddenly stepped from the growth by the wayside and unconcernedly stalked on the other side of the postboy.

Little Snap, not knowing what to make of such company, stopped Jack, and facing the older of the singular twain, demanded:

"What do you want?"

"To pay off an ol' debt by befriendin' ye. We wuz off our toes 'bout 'em Burrnocks yesterday, an' we didn't ketch onto their plans in season to help yer this mornin', but mebbe we can do yer a good turn now. The rock ain't out o' th' path up yender."

Notwithstanding the uncouth appearance of the speaker, and his illiterate speech, there was an evidence of honesty in both that did not escape the keen perception of Little Snap.

"In what way can you help me?" he asked.

"Wull, it's jess like this: I s'pose ye air purty anxious to get on to Six Roads?"

"What if I am? I cannot do so if the road is blocked."

"That's jess whar ye air barkin' up th' wrong tree, es I 'lowed ye would. I know a path right over through th' growth wot'll bring ye round to Hollow Tree slick es a coon whistlin' on a stump."

"I shall miss Greenbrier?"

"Sart'inly; sorter go round yit. Then, too, ye'll hev to go through Blazed Acre. Mebbe ye won't care to do thet. Th' Burrnocks think they scooped ye clean this morn'. It'd open their eyes fit to bustin'. Wot d'ye say—go?"

CHAPTER XI.
THE RIDE THROUGH BLAZED ACRE.

Little Snap hesitated a moment before replying to this rather broken speech, during which time Ab Raggles moved restlessly to and fro.

"Yit's a bit likely to brung ye trubble, I'll 'low, younker, but th' boy an' I'll stand by ye like fun. Yit's th' only way fer ye to git home."

"What motive have you, a stranger to me, to offer to do this?" asked the postboy.

"Motif? Didn't ye kem to our risky yesterday? The Raggles may be pore cattle, but they ain't them es fergits their friends."

"But I did you no service. How was it you escaped from that cave so easily?"

"'Twan't easy, younker. Ye see we fell kerslap inter thet sink, but th' water wuz deep 'nough, so we weren't hurt, an' findin' there wuz chance, we swum 'way in an underground stream, which kem out lower down in th' valler. We weren't hurted; hope ye weren't, younker. See?"

The explanation seemed plausible, and Little Snap knew that if he decided to accept the proffered assistance of his guides he must not delay if he wished to get beyond Blazed Acre before dark. Thus he questioned Ab Raggles more closely in regard to the route, finally deciding to go that way.

A short distance above, the mountaineer led the advance into the forest, following a narrow pathway leading over the mountainside. Little Snap had often noticed this well-worn track, and wondered where it led.

It was barely wide enough to admit the passage of a horseman, so our party was obliged to go in single file, Ab Raggles in front, carrying his long, rusty-looking firearm slung across his left arm, Beeline bringing up the rear, his weapon of defense being simply a stout club.

Not a word was spoken as they slowly wended their way in and out among the dark clumps of stunted forest growth, or around huge piles of rocks and steep bluffs of earth and stone, until at last the backbone of the heights had been reached, and they were in plain sight of the descent reaching away to the region of the Blazed Acre.

"Mebbe yit'll be best fer us not to strike the settlement till after dark," said Ab Raggles, "an' mebbe we sh'n't ef we keep pushin' on."

"Let us keep moving," replied Little Snap, "but keep our eyes open."

The country was less rugged on this slope of the mountains, so they advanced more rapidly, though the shades of night were beginning to fall as at last the isolated settlement of the Burrnocks and their associates was seen half a mile away.

Little Snap had never been in that vicinity before, so he looked with curious gaze upon the place. The dwellings of these people deserved no better name than huts, for the most of them were made of sods and boughs of trees. These rude habitations were arranged in a semicircle, standing on the north side of the clearing, and facing the south.

At the farther side could be seen a corral containing such horses as the community owned; but what struck Little Snap the most forcibly was the number of dogs running about, yelping at each other and jumping to and fro in their wild freedom.

It was getting too dark to see anything with distinctness, even had the postboy time to watch the scene long. They had stopped on a knob of earth high enough to look quite over the level land making up the Acre, but as soon as they resumed their course, all this was lost to their sight.

"Our path passes jess to th' right o' th' village," whispered Ab Raggles, "an' we hev got to move moughty sly to slip by 'em. I don't s'pose yit'd be bes' fer 'em goslings o' Bird Burrnock to ketch eyes on me. Yit mought not be healthy fer somebuddy."

Little Snap had noticed that as they neared the settlement Raggles had begun to show uneasiness, which increased as they advanced. He no longer carried his firearm in the hollow of his arm, but held it low upon his other side, as if wishing to conceal it from the gaze of any chance person they might meet. He realized that he could depend very little upon the Raggles in case of an attack from his enemies.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps fell on their ears, when the older guide dropped to the ground as quickly as if he had been shot, his son imitating his example the next moment.

Little Snap reined in Jack in season to avoid having him step on the prostrate figure of Ab Raggles, while at the same time the form of a man burst through the bushes into plain sight.

"Hello!" exclaimed the stranger. "Who mought ye be who invades these peaceful regions?"

"A friend," replied the postboy; "belated in my journey over the mountains."

"Who in the name of darkness air ye who knows th' way?" and the speaker stepped nearer to get a better view of the boyish rider.

It was too dark for him to distinguish Little Snap's features. At any rate, he did not seem to recognize him.

"My name is Lewis, and I live beyond Daring's Diamond."

"Purty late ridin'," muttered the man, passing on, without further words, much to our hero's relief.

Little Snap resolved to get away from that vicinity as speedily as possible, and he turned to request Raggles to go on, when he was surprised to find the mountaineer missing!

Neither was Beeline Raggles to be seen!

As brief as had been his interview with the stranger, this pair had managed somehow to get away unobserved by him. He did not think it best to call to them, and, though at a loss to account for this singular conduct, he felt that it would make little difference to him. He had seen enough to know they would be of no real assistance in case he should meet the Burrnocks.

Though it was now quite dark in the shades of the growth, he believed he would have little difficulty in finding his way to Hollow Tree, and he urged Jack forward without delay.

Dim lights from the dwellings of the inhabitants of Blazed Acre were springing up on his left, and he hadn't gone far before a confused sound of voices was borne to him on the still air.

"Faster, Jack!" he whispered, as the path swung around a clump of live oaks to come in full sight of the village. "On, my boy!"

Breaking into a trot, the horse and his rider quickly gained the cover of the forest again, where it was difficult to follow the winding course of the path.

But anxious to get away before the inhabitants of Blazed Acre, whom he felt sure would pursue him had they learned he was in the vicinity, he continued to urge Jack onward at a smart trot, until there came a sudden ending to his retreat.

Without the least warning, Jack stumbled and fell headlong to the earth, Little Snap at the same time being flung over his head and into the bushes several yards away!

CHAPTER XII.
THE POSTBOY'S ARREST.

Instinctively, as he found himself going, Little Snap tried to catch upon the saddle, but instead he seized upon the mail pouch, and this he carried with him on his flying trip through the air.

Partially deprived of his senses by his fall, as he regained a sitting posture on the ground, he heard sharp cries from the pathway, and the dusky figures of half a dozen men appeared about the place where Jack had tripped and fallen.

"Don't let him get clear!" he heard some one say, and then a furious rush was made toward the horse struggling to regain its feet.

Little Snap's first thought was to rush to Jack's assistance, but the fact that he still held the mail pouch in his possession caused him to quickly change his mind.

While the party were attacking the animal, frantically trying to regain its feet, in the belief the postboy was somewhere beneath its body, it was possible he might get beyond their harm.

Finding their mistake, they would not likely injure Jack, and with this hope in his heart, Snap dashed lightly away in the direction he expected the path led.

He soon proved his good judgment by coming suddenly upon the well-worn way leading to Hollow Tree.

The sounds of the struggle had not ended, though he fancied they were nearly over. In this surmise he was correct, for he had not gone much farther before he heard the same voice as had spoken before, saying:

"Th' leetle satan isn't hyur. He's got 'way, boyees! Look clus thet he don't escape!"

Anxious to know what had been the fate of poor Jack, the postboy did not dare to remain a moment where he was. As long as the mail was in his hands he was in duty bound to look to its safety above everything else.

Accordingly, he fled along the path at the top of his speed, and he was a pretty good runner, too. The sounds of his enemies were soon lost to hearing, and he pursued his way without interruption until he felt certain he must be near Hollow Tree, when he slackened his gait.

As he came in sight of the singular post office, he saw that a light was burning within, by which he knew the postmaster was there.

Then the sound of voices fell on the stillness of the evening, and surprised to hear his own name mentioned, he paused just outside the roughly made door.

"There is one thing certain," Dan Shag was saying, "he is out o' th' way now."

"And there ain't no danger of his taking off being laid to our door," said another, by whose voice Little Snap recognized Morton Meiggs, one of his bondsmen.

"Cert. Them air Acreites hes done us one good turn, an' I feel it is our duty to pay 'em fer it."

"I wouldn't advise you to say too much about that. They'll be likely to ask for more'n we can allow them. "Say, that was an audacious movement. I wonder how old Warfield felt when he heard of Dix Lewis' fate?"

"I dunno. Thet man beats me. He hes promised to stand by me, but I ain't more faith in him than I hev in thet light's burning all night."

"He's going to get to Congress, all the same, and it's our interest to stand by him, or pretend so, at least."

"Guess I know which side my bread is buttered on. What I'm figgerin' on now is to git my hands on to thet mail bag. I'll make some dollars out'n thet, bet yer hat."

"Be crafty," warned the other. "That Calvert is a long-headed dog. But as it is long past the mail hour, you aren't obliged to keep the office open any longer. Let's start for Six Roads, to lay our plans for the next move."

Little Snap stopped to listen no more, but stepping somewhat heavily, he advanced toward the office, meeting the twain in the doorway as they were coming out.

Dan Shag was ahead, and a yell of terror left his lips, as he beheld the postboy before him.

"Good-evening, Mr. Shag; you seem surprised. I am a little late to-night, but better late than never, you know."

"Dix Lewis! alive and here!" gasped Morton Meiggs.

"You seem surprised, Mr. Meiggs, but I am worth a dozen dead men."

If Little Snap expected to be plied with questions, he was disappointed, for the postmaster took the sack without another word, and ran through the mail with uncommon celerity.

"Hark! I hear a horseman coming," exclaimed Mr. Meiggs. "I think I will be moving on toward Six Roads."

Little Snap was about to ask him for help in getting home, but the hoof strokes of the approaching horse brought a feeling of gladness to his heart.

"It's Jack!" he exclaimed, aloud, and even as he spoke the faithful horse dashed upon the scene.

The postboy fairly wept for joy, as he caressed the head of his favorite steed, which seemed as delighted as he.

"Good Jack!" said Little Snap; "I am so glad you escaped unhurt."

"Mail!" said Shag, sharply, throwing the pouch at his feet.

Flinging the sack over its accustomed position, the postboy swung himself into the saddle and was away before the others could speak.

As he dashed down the road toward the bridge he heard a body of horsemen galloping toward Hollow Tree, whom he felt certain were the Burrnocks, of Blazed Acre. However, he saw nothing further of them, and a little over an hour later he rode into Union Six Roads, to be met at the post office by a wondering crowd.

In his anxiety to get home and thus relieve his mother of the suspense he knew she must be suffering, Little Snap answered the questions asked of him as briefly as possible, hurriedly leaving the office as soon as he had delivered the mail pouch.

"He acts mighty queer," said one of the bystanders by the name of Clevis Claverton, who was the third man on the postboy's bond. "Ha! here comes Meiggs, with Dan Shag and a party from Greenbrier. They will explain the matter, I imagine."

Little Snap found his mother nearly distracted with the reports circulated concerning his fate, but which were happily ended with his safe appearance.

Knowing it would be best for him to return to the post office as soon as possible, to give a more intelligible account of what had befallen him, he was about leaving the house immediately after eating his supper, when he was surprised by the appearance of a body of men at the door.

Foremost of the party was Sheriff Brady, who said, as the postboy opened the door:

"I arrest you, Dix Lewis, in the name of the United States Government. Will you come with me peacefully as my prisoner?"

"Arrest me? What have I done now, Mr. Brady, to cause my arrest?"

"Done? I should say there was enough to send you to prison for life. Will you allow me to handcuff you?"

CHAPTER XIII
A CURIOUS COURT.

For a moment Little Snap could not comprehend the meaning of Sheriff Brady's order.

Mrs. Lewis had been standing but a few feet away, and at the officer's demand she rushed forward to throw herself between Dix and the other.

"You shall not harm him!" she cried. "I——"

"Be calm, Mrs. Lewis!" commanded the officer. "It is a painful duty I am compelled to perform, but you only make it the harder by your nonsense."

Mrs. Lewis was about to reply, when Little Snap said:

"Do not mind it, mother; I shall come out all right. There, be calm, and know that I have done nothing that I am afraid to answer for.

"Mr. Brady, I will accompany you without opposition, so you will not be obliged to fasten my hands."

"I am not so sure of that. 'Safe bind sure to find,' I have always noticed. Hold out your hands, young man."

Little Snap was inclined to rebel against this unnecessary treatment, but, fortunately, his better judgment prevailed, and he held out his wrists to receive the bonds Sheriff Brady was so anxious to snap upon them.

"We were lucky to get him so easily," said the officer. "Now we will take him before Squire Claverton at once."

With these words the sheriff marched away from the home he had so ruthlessly entered, his arm locked in that of the prisoner, the crowd following in increasing numbers as the procession kept on.

Mrs. Lewis, without stopping to throw anything over her head, persisted in keeping close by the side of Dix, though he tried to have her remain at home, knowing that her presence would be of no avail to him.

Squire Claverton, who was a brother to Clevis Claverton, prided himself upon being "the great legal light" of Six Roads. He was a man not generally liked, being too willing to mix in whatever petty quarrels came up, without regard to the matter of justice. In fact, he had little, if any, idea of the fundamental principle of law. He seemed to labor under the belief that might made right, and that it was his business to crush the weak.

He must have been expecting his callers, for he showed no surprise at their appearance, but chuckled with evident delight at his prospects.

"I thought it was best to bring him right to your honor," declared the sheriff. "It seems to me it will be best to settle this matter with as little delay as possible."

"Exactly," replied the justice, who looked upon the prisoner with a malicious smile on his thin lips.

For some reason known only to himself, he had long cherished a grudge against the Lewis family, and he fondly believed the time had come for him "to get even."

Little Snap looked over the crowd that had filed into the room, until it was completely packed, without seeing any one who seemed to show him any favor. He was puzzled to understand this, and began to think his case might prove more serious than he had anticipated.

Postmaster Rimmon was there, and his words gave the postboy his first ray of hope.

"Isn't this rather premature?" he asked. "It is now nearly nine o'clock in the evening, and the prisoner will have no chance to call his friends to his assistance. Why not wait until to-morrow?"

"You forget, Mr. Rimmon," replied the sheriff, respectfully, but showing that he did not like this interruption, "that it is necessary to come to some decision in this matter to-night, so a man can be obtained to fill his place of duty in the morning. It seems to me we have been very easy with him, and in return he has shown the greatest contempt. What do you think of his coming home this evening, and without saying a word of what he had or had not done, going immediately to his home? This, too, with the grave charges hanging over him."

"I think he deserves great credit for what he has done to-day," replied Mr. Rimmon, warmly. "There is not one in a hundred who would or could have brought the mail through from Salt Works under the circumstances."

"How did you learn all this?"

"From his own lips."

"So he made you his confidant?"

"So far as to give me an inkling of his adventures."

"And you doubtless thought it was sufficient for him to tell you. Were you the proper person for him to give his excuses to?"

"Yes, sir; the most proper person in Six Roads. I presume the rest of you would have learned the truth had you given him time."

"We propose to learn the truth and the whole truth in our own time," retorted the officer, sharply. "I would like to ask you if he didn't owe something of an apology to Mr. Meiggs and Mr. Claverton here, both of whom have a financial interest at stake in this matter?"

"Financial fiddlesticks!" exclaimed Mr. Rimmon, impulsively. "If good reputations were for sale at ten cents apiece, and they had all the privilege in the world to buy, they couldn't get enough to supply their own households."

At this thoughtless speech a murmur of indignation ran over the spectators, and the postmaster realized that he had said more than he ought.

"Excuse me, I do not wish to get mixed up in this affair; but I would like to see the boy have fair play."

"Is Mr. Warfield in town?" asked a voice from the crowd.

"He is not," replied Sheriff Brady, "but his private secretary, Mr. Jones, is here, prepared to speak for the colonel."

"Order!" commanded Justice Claverton, at this juncture. "Who prefers the charges against the prisoner?"

"I do," replied Morton Meiggs.

"State them."

"Criminal neglect of duty, theft of valuable letters, conduct unbecoming an employee of the United States Government."

"Hum!" commented his honor. "State your case."

Mr. Meiggs was then put under oath, when he told how the Hollow Tree mail had not been found in the mail pouch by its postmaster, but was later found in the possession of the postboy. He then described the disappearance of the registered letters, showing that while six could be traced as far as the Greenbrier office, only three reached the person for whom they were intended, Mr. Jason Warfield.

"He has been very irregular in the performance of his duties, coming in some nights before his time, and on others an hour or more late. To-day he has capped the climax of his careless handling of the mail by coming over Greenbrier Mountain, through the woods, going the Lord only knows where. I forgot to mention that one day this week he actually left his horse, with the mail sack on its back, at least an hour, alone in the woods, while he explored a cave or did some such foolish thing, showing that he hasn't proper regard for the welfare of the property in his keeping."

"John Dix Lewis, what have you to say to these charges?"

"Not guilty, sir," replied the postboy. "I——"

"Be careful how you put on airs, young man. You should remember that you are addressing the honorable court of the United States. Call your first witness, Mr. Meiggs."

Dan Shag took the stand, confirming Meiggs' testimony in regard to the loss of the Hollow Tree mail and the finding of it in the postboy's keeping.

"We have plenty of witnesses to prove the fact that the mail was in the pouch at Greenbrier," broke in Sheriff Brady. "I was present at——"

The sheriff was interrupted at this moment by a great commotion near the door, and it soon became evident that some one was trying to force an entrance into the room.

CHAPTER XIV.
AN UNEXPECTED CLIMAX.

"Order!" thundered "his honor."

The command of the court received but slight attention, as one and all turned to see what the commotion meant.

To the intense surprise of the onlookers, a tall, gray-bearded man, with long, white hair falling about his shoulders, was trying to force his way through the excited throng. Seeming to tower above those around him, the wild grandeur of the new arrival was given an additional picturesqueness by the presence of a gray squirrel standing boldly upright on either shoulder!

Few in the room had ever seen the newcomer, though all had heard of Old Solitaire, the mysterious hermit of the Kanawha range.

Squire Claverton looked upon him with dismay, demanding:

"What means this intrusion?"

"I have come to speak for the boy!" cried the strange man. "There is a conspiracy afoot to put him down, but, by the Great Kanawha! it shall not be done. He has——"

"Order!" cried Justice Claverton, turning very red in the face.

"Order and justice and equal rights!" cried the hermit. "These stories they have told are all false."

"Stop!" yelled Claverton. "Are we to be interrupted by a crazy man?"

"Put him down!" some one shouted.

"Silence!" commanded the sheriff, his words bringing the desired effect. "I will look after this madman," pushing his way through the crowd to the stranger's side.

"I am here only in the cause of justice," said the old man, trembling in every limb as he spoke. "The boy has done nothing wrong."

"Then he will not be injured," replied Sheriff Brady. "You can go on with your examination if you wish, your honor."

Amid a profound silence, Leonard Jones, the private secretary of Mr. Warfield, was asked to tell what he knew about the case, when he stated that his employer, expecting so many letters and not getting them, had sent him to ascertain if they had not been delayed on the route, and that he had learned that three more than he had received had really got as far as the Greenbrier office, after which no trace of them could be found.

Mr. Rimmon at this juncture seemed about to speak, but he remained silent, knowing that he had not helped the postboy any by his previous hasty words.

Following Mr. Jones' evidence, Dan Shag and two or three others were called upon the stand to testify to such circumstances as they knew in regard to the postboy's last trip.

"If it please your honor," said Mr. Rimmon at this juncture, "I think the boy should be given a chance to show why he was late and how he came in as he did."

"He shall have the opportunity to speak for himself, Mr. Rimmon. Prisoner at the bar, what have you to say to coming in here an hour after you were due on Wednesday?"

"It was unavoidable, sir."

"Was it a part of your duty to go off gunning after caves and leaving your mail unprotected for a full hour?"

"No, sir."

"I thought not."

"If it please your honor, I would like to tell how I came to do so."

"Your admission that you did so is sufficient. You acknowledge the package of Hollow Tree mail was found in your possession?"

"It was taken from the pocket I have on my saddle, but I——"

"That is sufficient, sir. You acknowledge that you came in to-night an hour late, in a condition unfitting an employee of the government?"

"I was late, sir, on account of coming over a path through the wilderness of the Greenbrier district."

"Does Uncle Sam say that you are to carry his treasures through the wilderness?"

"No, sir. But I want to explain how I was obliged to come that way if I got here at all."

"It is not necessary."

"It seems to me," said Mr. Rimmon, "and I have more interest in that matter than any one present, that it is not only necessary, but an act of justice to the court itself that your honor listen to Mr. Lewis' account. He came over the mountains by a tedious footpath, not from choice, but from necessity. He deserves our praise rather than our condemnation for his heroic conduct. If our road surveyors had done their duty, his duty would have been easy."

"Let me speak," cried the hermit, at this juncture. "It was all an infamous scheme——"

"Order!" thundered the court. "We can't be broken into by a mad fool. Put him out if necessary, Mr. Brady."

"Another word, and I'll pitch you into the road," said the sheriff.

Old Solitaire showed that he was laboring under great excitement, though he did not offer to speak.

"This is no place for senseless stories told by boys," said "his honor." "If you have any reasonable excuse to offer for your folly, Dix Lewis, you will have plenty of opportunity to give it in the higher court. You have admitted enough to condemn you to prison for the rest of your days, and I can do no different than to place you under indictment on at least three charges, which I now do."

"Sheriff Brady, you will please take the prisoner to a safe place, until you are called upon to deliver him up by a higher authority."

By this time great confusion was reigning in the room.

Mrs. Lewis was weeping and wringing her hands in wild abandon of grief, while Little Snap was trying to speak an encouraging word.

"They shan't take my boy off to jail! He has done nothing wrong!"

In vain Justice Claverton called for order, until the voice of Mr. Rimmon silenced the babel of sounds.

"Your honor, you cannot ignore the rights of the prisoner thus. He has certain privileges you cannot and shall not deny him. He is at least entitled to bail, as no capital charge has been made against him."

"Yes, I might do it as a matter of form, but it would make no difference in the result, for who is there would go on his bonds?"

"Fix the sum."

"Five thousand dollars."

"An outrageous amount; but how will the names of Jason Warfield and myself do?"

"Mr. Warfield is not in town, Mr. Rimmon."

"I understand he has just returned. Make out the papers, and I will see that he signs them with me."

A deep silence now hung over the scene.

"Bah! this makes it all a farce!" exclaimed the rasping tone of Morton Meiggs. "I give notice here and now that I withdraw from the prisoner's mail bond."

"So do I!" echoed Clevis Claverton.

"I appoint Daniel Shag as mail carrier between Six Roads and Upper Loop offices, with all the privileges and responsibilities that pertain to the route. He is to begin his duties to-morrow at six o'clock," declared Justice Claverton.

Immediately following this announcement renewed confusion began, the excited words ensuing proving that the postboy had many friends present, though they were not in a position to help him.

Without much delay, the signature of Jason Warfield was secured for the bail, which, with that of Mr. Rimmon, gained Little Snap his freedom until the convening of the court.

"Have good courage, Dix," said Mr. Rimmon, as Little Snap left the building, accompanied by his mother, "and we will hope you will come out all right. I hardly think the road authorities will get the way clear for you to go through to-morrow, but you had better be on hand to go. Don't let it be any fault of yours if the mail does not go through."

"But Mr. Claverton appointed Mr. Shag to go in my place."

"Come to the office at six in the morning for the mail and you will get it. I don't know anything of Dan Shag in that capacity. Justice Claverton's appointment seems to me very irregular, to put it mildly."

After thanking the postmaster for his kindness, Little Snap sought his home in better spirits than he had felt before the ending of the scene at Lawyer Claverton's office.

Though no one seemed to notice it, not even the postboy, Old Solitaire had disappeared immediately after the discharge of the prisoner.

CHAPTER XV.
A LONG AND A VAIN WATCH.

Mrs. Lewis was still very nervous concerning the trouble, though she grew calmer as Little Snap spoke so confidently of his ultimate success.

"I have it, mother. I'll tell you just what I am going to do. I am going to see Mr. Calvert.

"I would, my son."

"He is just the man for me to find. He has the contract for carrying the mail on this route, and when he sublet it to me, he told me if I had the least bit of trouble to let him know. He ought to know it, too."

"Mr. Calvert can clear up the affair, if any one can. I wish he was here now."

"I'll have him here before long, and then we shall have no further reason to worry. I wonder I hadn't thought of him before."

"Well, don't let the matter trouble you any longer. It is getting late, and you had better retire. You will need all the rest you can get."

"Rest, mother? I am not going to sleep until I have seen Mr. Calvert, and explained the matter to him."

"But you cannot see him to-night."

"I must."

"Why, he lives fifty miles from here. Didn't Mr. Rimmon ask you to be at the office in the morning?"

"Yes, and so I will. I know it is a long ride to Volney, Mr. Calvert's home, but I shall take both Jack and Fairy, and I will fetch around before six in the morning, never fear."

"I am afraid you cannot. What if you shouldn't?"

"I will not fail, mother, so please do not object any longer. Every moment is precious to me. The horses have had their supper, and I will be away in less than three minutes."

It was little wonder if Mrs. Lewis looked with anxious foreboding upon this movement, for it certainly did seem a hopeless undertaking. Little Snap, in his boyish enthusiasm, did not stop to count the cost. Neither did he realize the possible consequence of his absence at that time. Whoever may be inclined to censure him for such a rash attempt must remember that he acted upon the impulse of the moment, and not with the clear judgment he would have shown a few years later. I speak of this now in slight extenuation of the startling result to follow.

Losing no further time in talk, the postboy threw the saddle on Fairy's back, and when she was in readiness for a start, he led Jack out of his stall, and slipped the bridle on his head.

"I wouldn't do it, Jack, old fellow, only I must. We have a long ride before us, and a strange one."

The next moment he was in the saddle and ready for a start.

"Don't get worried, mother, whatever happens. I can look out for myself. I count on getting to Volney about one o'clock; then I shall rest an hour and a half before starting back. I will get home, if nothing happens, at half-past five."

"I wish you weren't going. But you must speak to Mr. Rimmon as you go past his house. You will, won't you?"

Promising that, Little Snap bent over to give his good-by kiss, and the following moment he was speeding swiftly away on his long journey.

"I have done wrong, I know I have, in letting him go," she said, to herself, as she watched him out of sight.

With no thought of sleep, she returned to the house to begin her lonely vigil.

Dix had not been gone more than fifteen minutes before a loud thumping upon the door startled her from her unhappy reverie.

Looking out of the window, she was still further terrified by the appearance of half a dozen men in front of the house.

"What is wanted?" she asked, in a tremulous voice.

"We want that precious scamp, Dix Lewis!" came the reply in the well-known voice of Sheriff Brady.

"Oh, dear! what does this mean?" she exclaimed.

"Are you going to open the door, or shall we have to break it down?"

"My son is not here—he is gone!" she cried. "He has——"

Renewed thumping on the door drowned the conclusion of her sentence.

"Gone?" demanded the furious tone of the sheriff. "Woman, what do you mean? Stave in the door, men!"

"No—no! I am opening it. How my hand does shake. Wait a moment, please."

Trembling so she could hardly stand alone, Mrs. Lewis soon threw open the door, saying:

"What has happened now?"

"Happened? Jason Warfield has decided not to stand on your son's bail, and Judge Claverton has found out that Rimmon is no good there, as he is already in the employ of the government. So we want the body of the boy. Where is he hiding?"

It was useless for Mrs. Lewis to try and make the sheriff and his posse believe Little Snap had gone away as she had said, until they had searched the house from top to bottom. Then they unanimously decided that he had run away!

In the midst of the excitement Mr. Rimmon appeared on the scene, when the distracted mother appealed to him.

"He told you that he was going to Volney, didn't he, Mr. Rimmon?"

The postmaster shook his head.

"I have not seen him since we parted after the trial. I am sorry this has happened."

"Well, it puts me in a hard place," said the sheriff, "and I tell you what I shall be obliged to do. If he don't turn up before morning, I shall raze this house to the ground and put every one of you in jail! So if you know where the precious scamp is hiding, bring him forth, or the worst will be your own."

In vain Mrs. Lewis explained, pleaded with the obdurate men. The only hope she could have was in the promise that nothing should be done until six o'clock in the morning. If Little Snap failed to come then, no mercy would be shown to the family.

"He will! he will! I am sure of that!"

"Then be calm and wait. We must keep a guard about the house."

At daylight it seemed that every inhabitant of Six Roads was astir, and anxious, excited groups began to collect here and there.

Excepting Mrs. Lewis, Mr. Rimmon was perhaps the most anxious person, and he kept an almost continual watch up and down the road.

"It was the height of folly for him to have started off in that way. It is utterly impossible for him to get here by six, and if he don't, God have mercy on his home. I am powerless to help them. What! Can it be so near six? Here comes Shag for the mail bag."

Mounted upon a tall, raw-boned horse, the postmaster of Hollow Tree rode up in front of the post office.

"Good-morning, Mr. Rimmon. I s'pose ye heerd what th' judge sed las' evenin' thet I'm to carry th' mail arter this. I hev resigned the Tree office, so it's all regular. Seein' I'm new to th' bizness, I thought mebbe ye wouldn't object to lettin' me start a leetle arly th' fust time."

"I shall object, most decidedly, Mr. Shag."

"Hev yit yer own way, Mr. Rimmon, though ye'll find I ain't a boy to be run over. Ye'll let me hev it at six sharp, or thar'll be war in th' United States camp."

To this the postmaster made no reply, while one and all waited the outcome of this trying scene.

In the midst of the fearful ordeal the sun rose above the crest of the distant mountains, and then a murmur ran along the expectant crowd.

"It's six o'clock!" cried Sheriff Brady, consulting his watch. "The time is up, Mrs. Lewis, and the boy has not come, as I knew he wouldn't. I have kept my word, and you cannot expect any more."

"It's six!" exclaimed Dan Shag, moving uneasily in his saddle. "Hand over thet mail bag, Mr. Rimmon, fer ye can't hol' it enny longer."

The postmaster cast a last, anxious gaze down the road before he replied, and then a cry of great relief left his lips.

"He is coming!"

Eagerly the spectators looked down the road, and a murmur of joy arose on the air, as they saw the figure of a horse galloping rapidly toward the town. But the look of relief on the faces of all turned to one of dread expectancy, as they discovered that the creature was riderless!

It was Jack, the postboy's favorite steed, his sides covered with foam, and his breath coming in quick, short gasps, as he sped like the wind toward his home, but Little Snap was not on his back!

CHAPTER XVI.
A LONELY NIGHT RIDE.

During this long, anxious night how has it fared with Little Snap? Is the return of Jack without him a good or an evil omen?

Let us see.

His most direct course to Volney was by the post road to Greenbrier, after which he must take a more southerly direction by following the left bank of the Little Kanawha to the Blue Stone River. From this junction he was to ride ten miles within sound of this stream, when he must leave the river road for one leading over the hills to the east.

Though there was no moon, the night was made pleasant by a myriad of stars in the mellow autumn sky, so he rode on with a hopeful heart that he should have no trouble in finding his way.

Not a light was to be seen at Daring's Diamond, but quite unexpectedly a dim blaze shone from Hollow Tree, though he had not supposed the postmaster had had time to get home from Six Roads.

But every moment was of value to him, so he dashed past the lonely place without slackening his pace, until he reached the homely village of Greenbrier.

Even then he was rushing on at the same headlong pace he had followed since leaving home, when suddenly a familiar voice arrested his flight.

"What in the name of George Washington are you riding like that for, Dix Lewis?"

The speaker was a Mr. Renders, whom Little Snap had always considered friendly to him, so he reined in Fairy and quickly explained the object of his long ride.

"I am afraid it will prove a wild-goose ride, Dix, but I wish you success. Say, I'll tell you how I can help you. I have a brother living at the corner of the Blue Stone and Mountain roads, and he has a horse you can get to finish your journey with, and leave yours there to rest till you come back. I think it is about ten miles from my brother's to Volney. A shift of horses will come in mighty handy about that time. Let me write a line to Joe, which will make your chances doubly sure."

Mr. Renders wasn't long in carrying out his intentions, and, thanking him for his kindness, the postboy again urged Fairy on, the trusty Jack keeping beside his mate without attention from his master.

The Little Kanawha road was an extremely lonely one, but being nearly level, Little Snap sped on with unabated speed.

Thus he had swung around a sharp bend in the highway, when he was surprised by a beseeching voice calling out:

"Hold up, mister, a minute! Don't be scart, for I ain't a highwayman, but I want a ride!"

The speaker rose so nearly from the middle of the road that Jack had to shy in order to avoid running over him.

"I can't go no farther, mister! so please have pity on me."

Owing to the thick growth by the roadside, it was too dark for the boy rider to distinguish the features of the stranger. He was a burly framed man, and seemed to be shabbily dressed. He carried a short, heavy stick, whether for a cane or a weapon of defense Little Snap had no time to consider.

"You have a spare horse," continued the other, without giving the postboy opportunity to reply to him. "Let me ride him, and you'll do the greatest favor of your life. It is a case of got to with me, or I would not ask it. I am on my way to see a dying mother, and I have walked till I can't get one foot ahead of the other any longer."

He had caught hold of Jack's rein, for Little Snap had put a bridle on the horse before starting, and he was in the act of climbing into the saddle.

"Hold on, sir!" exclaimed Dix Lewis, sharply. "I do not doubt your honesty——"

"It's a case of must, mister! Let me ride him if for only a mile. He's doing you no good."

"I have got a long journey ahead—so long that I must have him fresh to help me get there. I am sorry to refuse you."

"It's such a small thing I ask of you, and you can do it just as well as not. Think if your mother was dying and you were thirty miles from her, and you should ask a man to let you ride a spare horse he had to see her. I will give you a hundred dollars if you will let me ride ten miles."

Uttered in a pleading, earnest tone, the words touched the postboy's heart.

"Where do you wish to go?"

"To the town of Volney. If you are any acquainted there you may know Marion Calvert. He is my cousin. My name is Atwin, and I live in Frankfort."

"You know Marion Calvert? I am going to see him!"

"You don't say so! Perhaps you are a relation of his?"

"No, sir. I am going to see him on business. Every moment is precious to me, too, for I must get back before morning."

"I am sorry to have bothered you, but it was a case of necessity. You are going to let me ride?"

Little Snap was never so puzzled in his life. While not wishing to refuse the man, he still knew it would jeopardize his chances of getting back to Six Roads in season.

While he hesitated a moment, the stranger moved nearer Jack, and gathering himself to spring into the seat, said:

"I shall never—whoa! Stand still, you brute!"

Jack had begun to step backward, and flinging up his head, broke the man's hold from the bridle.

Then uttering a snort, Jack darted forward to Little Snap's side.

"What sort of a confounded hoss have you got here?" cried the unknown, again seizing the bridle, this time leaping nimbly into the saddle.

"What is the trouble, Jack, old boy?" asked his master, wondering at the creature's singular and unusual action.

No sooner had the stranger gained the seat than the horse sprang abruptly to one side, and rearing into the air, sent the man flying heels over head into the bushes by the roadside.

All of this was done so suddenly that Little Snap had not found time to express his amazement.

As if impelled by a newborn fear, Jack bounded up the road, with a whinny of terror.

"Hi, there! help—quick—he'll get away from me!" cried the man, staggering to his feet and bursting through the bushes into the road.

Though startled by this unexpected turn in affairs, the postboy had presence of mind enough to see that the stranger was no longer a supplicant for favors, but that a fierce determination to gain his ends was apparent on his features and in his voice.

He started to catch hold of Fairy's bridle, but with a snort of defiance the creature threw back her head, and Little Snap, reading the other's purpose, touched her smartly with the spur.

At that moment the tramp of feet came from the growth, and the burly figures of three or four men sprang into sight.

CHAPTER XVII.
LITTLE SNAP'S DISAPPOINTMENT.

"He's getting away!" shouted the man who had hailed the postboy. "Come on, you lubbers!"

If Little Snap had been taken off his guard at first, he was wide awake enough now, and giving Fairy an encouraging cry, he was borne swiftly away by the fleet-footed mare.

Glancing back once more, he saw the four men in pursuit of him, but as long as they were on foot, he had but little to fear from them.

With their hoarse shouts ringing in his ears, he sped around a curve in the road and out of their sight.

After he had gone a couple of miles, finding that he was not likely to be troubled by their pursuit, he slackened Fairy's speed, and improved his first opportunity to bend over and pat Jack's head close beside him, saying:

"Noble boy, you knew more than your master that time. I wonder where I should be now if you hadn't read that fellow's intentions better than I did? I wasn't quite satisfied with him, but his story did throw me off my guard. I have got to keep my eyes open sharper than that."

Talking thus, half to his animal friends and half to himself, he rode swiftly on toward Volney, the soft, clayey soil muffling the hoof strokes of his horses so that they gave back no sound, his advance scarcely breaking in upon the silence of the night.

Soon after his escape from the waylayers, whom he judged the men to be, he shifted upon Jack, giving Fairy a rest.

To his joy he at last came to what he was confident was the corner of the Blue Stone and Mountain roads spoken of by Mr. Renders.

If he had had any lingering doubts about this, they were driven away at sight of a farmhouse standing back a short distance from the latter highway and nearly concealed by a clump of trees, and which he knew must be the house of Mr. Renders' brother.

An unnatural stillness seemed to hang over the place, and at first he was inclined to ignore Mr. Renders' advice and keep on. But he knew only too well that Jack and Fairy needed all the rest they could get before completing their long journey.

Accordingly, he advanced boldly to the door, and seizing the heavy brass knocker, he raised a noise that must have aroused every inmate of the house.

Heads quickly began to appear from the windows, until he imagined he had awakened a house full of people.

"Who's there, and what is wanted at this unseemly hour?" demanded a voice he felt sure belonged to the host.

Little Snap quickly explained his situation, and as he finished speaking, handed Mr. Renders the note sent by his brother.

"Wait till I can strike a light, when I will read it, and if I think favorable of what he says, I will be out in a moment."

Then the window was closed, while a minute later a light shone from the apartment.

This last soon began to move about, and it was not long before the door was opened, when Mr. Renders appeared fully dressed.

"Hope you will excuse my delay, but I didn't keep you waiting longer than I could help. So you have come from Six Roads?"

"Yes, sir; and I have got to get back there before six o'clock this morning, or I would never have troubled you."

"Never mind that. I have called better men than I am out of their nests on worse nights than this. In regard to a horse, I have one which can take you to Volney and back in one hour, though I don't care about having you crowd him quite as hard as that, unless it is necessary."

"I will not hurt the horse. Can you let me have him? I will pay you well——"

"A fig for the pay! Dismount and turn your animals into that pen. I claim a horse can rest better by having a chance to move about if he wants to. I will feed them as soon as they have cooled off somewhat. I will lead out my horse."

Hardly able to comprehend that he was so well favored, Little Snap did as he was told, and by the time he had seen Fairy and Jack in comfortable quarters, Mr. Renders had his horse ready for him to spring into the saddle.

"He may need a little urging, but don't spare him. It is eleven miles to Volney, and he is good for the trip and return without any more stop than you will wish to make with Mr. Calvert. I think you will be fortunate enough to find that gentleman at home."

Mr. Renders then described Mr. Calvert's house to him, so he would have no difficulty in finding it, when Little Snap began the second stage of his journey.

The road now more broken than it had been since leaving Greenbrier, Little Snap rode on over hill and through valley, finding the horse loaned him by Mr. Renders an exceptionally fine animal. He had consulted his watch to find it was a quarter of two, when he looked ahead to see what he believed to be the village of Volney.

"Almost there," he muttered. "How glad I am. Now if I find Mr. Calvert at home I shall be soon on my return journey. That is the house Mr. Renders described, I am sure. How still it looks around it!"

Speaking his thoughts thus aloud, Little Snap dashed into the spacious grounds surrounding the quaint, old-fashioned dwelling he supposed was the home of the man he had ridden so far to see.

The occupant of the house proved to be more wakeful than he had expected, for he had barely pulled rein under the enormous willow growing by the door before a chamber window was opened, and a man's voice demanded.

"Who's there?"

"My name is Lewis, and I am from Union Six Roads. Does Mr. Calvert live here?"

"That's my name, sir, though I do not recognize yours."

"I carry the mail on the Kanawha route. Of course, you remember Dix Lewis, to whom you sub-let the line?"

"Wait a minute and I'll be down there."

Giving the finishing touches to his toilet, as he appeared, Mr. Calvert soon opened the heavy door and stepped out into the night.

He was a man in the vicinity of forty, with a frank, good-natured looking countenance, who seemed rather brusque in his movements and manner of speaking.

"I hardly remember your countenance, Mr. Lewis," he said, as he stepped forward and extended his right hand; "but that is nothing strange, as we never met but that once. What in the name of Congress has brought you here at this unexpected hour? But excuse me, dismount, put your horse in the barn, and come into the house before you begin your talk. I would call one of the negroes, but they are so sleepy at this time of night they are no good."

"I can't stop," said Little Snap, as soon as he could find an opportunity to speak. "I have to get back to Six Roads in season to take the mail to the Loop to-day."

"You won't do it, all the same. But what's up?"

The postboy then made the other acquainted with all that had happened, interrupted several times by Mr. Calvert, who finally exclaimed:

"A bad pickle, I should say. But I am glad you have come to me. Of course the only thing for you to do is to get out of it."

"I cannot do that with honor to myself," said Little Snap, who had not expected this from the contractor. "It would look as if I was really to blame for all they have said."

"Better let it look like that than to get your neck in the halter, or a bullet through your head."

The postboy could not help showing his surprise. Was it for this he had ridden so far, and with such high-colored hopes? He had not dreamed of anything other than assistance from the man who was behind him in his undertaking.

CHAPTER XVIII.
A PERILOUS UNDERTAKING.

"You will go up to Six Roads and see what can be done?" he asked, while his hopes sank lower and lower.

"I can't. Say, tell you what I will do. I am intending to start for Washington to-day; but when I get through there, and it won't take me more than a week. I will come back by way of the Six Roads. I wish I had let the plaguey route alone."

"That will be too late to help me," said Little Snap.

"I tell you, you want to get out of it as quick as you can. Let this Shag you speak of carry the mail until I can get around."

"I am afraid you do not understand the situation, Mr. Calvert. There is some sort of a conspiracy to rob the government, and this Dan Shag is one of those at the bottom of it."

"Oh, nonsense! you have your suspicions and jump at conclusions. It may be that some of them are trying to crowd you a little, seeing you are a boy, but we all have to put up with such things. We laugh at them when we grow older. Come into the house and have some refreshments and a few hours' sleep before you attempt your long journey home. Jove! you showed good grit in undertaking it."

"I undertook it in the good faith that you would stand by me in this affair, Mr. Calvert, and though it is worth something for me to know how you feel about it, I am disappointed to find you do not care for the welfare of the route, for whose success or failure you are really responsible."

"You are pretty blunt, I will say that for you. I am inclined to think you will be a hard one for them to bluff down."

"I shall stand up for my rights, Mr. Calvert, as long as I can. Can't you come to Six Roads before you go to Washington? They are expecting you."

"You said Mr. Warfield still stands by you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, I think I can fix you all right. I will give you a note to him to stand by you until I come to town, though I still advise you to get out of it."

Little Snap saw that it was no use to urge him more, so he remained silent, while Mr. Calvert hastily scribbled away on a slip of paper he took from his pocket. When he had finished, he read:

"Volney, Va., Sept. 18.

"Mr. Jason Warfield, Union Six Roads, Va.

"Dear Sir: Stand by the bearer of this, Mr. Dix Lewis, in his troubles as far as you think prudent, until I can see you.

Your obt. servant,

Marion Calvert."

"There, I think that will do the business. Sorry you don't feel like coming in to rest until daylight. It's a long, lonesome ride before you."

Thanking him, Little Snap took the piece of paper, and carefully placing it in one of his pockets, he wheeled the horse about to start homeward.

"Hold on!" cried Mr. Calvert, as the postboy gained the road.

Little Snap turned the horse and galloped back into the yard, wondering and hoping.

"I wanted to say that you will no doubt see the wisdom of my advice before you get home."

"If that is all you have to say to me farther, Mr. Calvert," said our hero, somewhat sharply, "I will bid you good-night! My name is at stake in this matter, and I will know the right and the wrong of it before I am driven out."

The postboy spoke more sharply than he intended, but the other's last words had cut like a knife. Without waiting for a reply, he touched the horse smartly with the spurs and sped down the road at a furious pace.

"I should know he was a Lewis if I hadn't heard his name," muttered the mail contractor, as he watched the boyish rider out of sight. "I ought to have known better than to have let him fool with the business at the outset, but Rimmon said he could do it. Well, I must get ready for my start to the capital."

His hopes crushed, so far as expecting any aid from Mr. Calvert was concerned, Little Snap pursued his homeward journey with a gloomy mind. Since midnight the sky had become overcast, so it was quite dark—too dark for him to note his surroundings with any clearness.

The ride back as far as Mr. Renders' seemed shorter than he had expected, and he found that gentleman awaiting his coming.

"You went pretty quick, but Jim don't show his journey a bit. I tell you that horse can't be beat very easy. Pay? I don't want a red cent. I have fed your horses, so they are all right to start. How'd you find Calvert? He's cranky sometimes, but a fairly good sort of a fellow as men go. Wish he might go to Congress rather than that old Warfield. Never liked that old duffer; he's deceitful. Nothing of that kind about Cal. Hello! Starting?"

While Mr. Renders had been running on in his sort of haphazard way, Little Snap had put the saddle on Jack's back and sprung into the seat.

"I wish you would take pay for the use of your horse, Mr. Renders, but if you won't, I am a thousand times obliged to you, and I hope I can do you a favor some time. Good-night."

"He's right after his business!" said the other to himself, as the clatter of horses' hoofs died out in the distance. "That boy is bound to succeed."

Riding swiftly homeward, Little Snap was saying to his dumb companions:

"I have to fight my own battles, and this trip has been for nothing. No; not for nothing, for I know just what to do now. You needn't crowd on quite so hard, Jack; we have plenty of time."

Shifting from one animal to the other when he thought best, Little Snap rode on through the night, unmindful of the gathering stormclouds, though he kept a sharp gaze as he drew near the lonesome spot where he had been accosted by the stranger.

Not a sound broke the deathlike silence, save the dull tramp of his horses' feet, and with a feeling of relief he had soon left the place a mile behind.

At Greenbrier the postboy shifted steeds, giving Jack another rest, intending to return to him at Daring's Diamond.

No one was astir at this place yet, neither was there any sign of life at Hollow Tree. But he hadn't gone a dozen rods beyond the Tree before a sharp voice commanded him to stop, and he suddenly found his way blocked with a body of armed men.

Three or four caught upon Fairy's bit with a force which dragged her back upon her haunches, and Little Snap was nearly pulled from his seat.

Realizing his desperate situation, the postboy dextrously slipped the bridle from the mare's head, at the same time shouting for her to rush on. Rallying, she made the wild attempt, and Jack, having already cleared a way through the party, she followed upon his heels.

Shots rang about the fleeing postboy's head, some of the bullets flying uncomfortably near, but he fancied he was going to get away, when he dashed furiously down the descent leading to Greenbrier bridge.

As he came in sight of the stream with its high, precipitous banks, a cry of dismay left his lips. Every bridge plank had been removed, and only the stringers spanned the dark chasm of foaming waters!

Retreat cut off, with no possible chance to ford the stream, Little Snap saw at a glance that he was rushing into a veritable deathtrap!

The cries of his pursuers rang exultantly in his ears.

CHAPTER XIX.
THE BUSHBINDERS' PLANS.

Little Snap's first impulse, as he saw the trap into which he had been driven, was to turn at bay and meet his enemies in a hand-to-hand struggle, as hopeless as his chances were.

But at that moment Jack had reached the bank of the stream, and the fleeing horse, instead of checking his speed or turning aside, sped like an arrow out over one of the bridge stringers toward the other side!

The postboy was not far behind the gallant steed, but he had opportunity to see the horse rush safely the length of the timber, to reach the clear way beyond.

With a snort, as if of triumph, Jack renewed his swift flight now in comparative safety.

The sight of this feat caused the hopes of Little Snap to rise, and he resolved to follow the example set by his equine friend.

"On, Fairy!" he cried; "it is our only chance!"

The pursuers suddenly stopped, as they beheld with amazement the daring deed attempted by the fugitive.

Fairy, seeming to realize the desperate part she was to act in the startling undertaking, rushed fearlessly in the steps of her mate.

Sitting firmly in his saddle, the postboy felt himself carried out over the dark chasm, and he caught a gleam of the foaming waters hurling their forces madly against the rock walls of the channel. The next instant he felt a quiver run through the frame of the faithful steed, and he knew that she was falling!

Under the weight of her burden the mare somehow missed her footing, her feet slipped on the treacherous way, and she tried in vain to recover her equilibrium.

Finding that she was falling, Little Snap freed his feet from the stirrups just as horse and rider shot headlong into the boiling river!

At that moment the pursuing party halted on the bank of the stream, amazed witnesses of the mishap.

Little Snap was carried completely over a stringer running parallel with the first, and, lighter than the horse, struck in the water farther down the stream.

Fortunately, he escaped the jagged rocks of the banks, though the fall deprived him for a time of his senses. When he came to a realization of his situation, he found himself struggling in a mass of débris which had clogged the river a short distance below the crossing.

In the midst of his efforts to extricate himself, he heard a voice just above him. Then, as he peered out from his retreat, he saw some of his enemies coming rapidly toward the place.

"I can see him!" cried the foremost. "I knew he came down this way."

"Give up, younker!" called another voice. "Ye mought as well, fer we air sure to git yer."

Letting go the branch upon which he had found himself clinging, Little Snap hoped to elude his foes by swimming down the stream. But he found himself so entangled in the mass of floating wood about him, that before he could get clear, the party was in the water beside him.

A sharp struggle ensued, but at its end the postboy was dragged out of the water by the hands of the Burrnock gang.

"Bind him, boys!" said the leader, exultantly. "That's gittin' him what I call mighty easy. I tole yer the bridge racket would fix him."

"What do you mean by this treatment?" demanded the postboy, as he found himself bound hands and feet.

"Keep cool an' ye'll find out quick 'nough, younker. Tote him erlong, boys."

Little Snap looked for some trace of Fairy, but in vain.

Nothing further was said by his captors, while he was borne away into the depths of the forest, subject to such thoughts and feelings as may be imagined. What would they think at home of his non-appearance when the time for his return came? Then he thought of Jack, and wondered if the horse would keep on until he had reached Six Roads. He was certain the steed would, and this gave him the only hope he felt in his captivity.

At last the captors and their prisoner reached the little opening marking the top of the bluff overhanging the cave, where Little Snap had once sought Ab Raggles.

In the party which had effected his capture he saw Buzzard and Hawk Burrnock, while the leader of the gang was none other than he who had been chief spokesman in the cavern. This man the postboy soon found was Bird Burrnock, the father of the four brothers.

As soon as the underground room was reached, Bird Burrnock addressed the captive as follows:

"Time is too mighty short, younker, fer us to perlaver with yer. 'Tis true we mought hev saved a good leetle slice o' yit by knockin' ye in th' head when we pulled ye out'n th' river. To speak th' truth, I hoped th' river would fix yer; but seein' yit wan't likely to, we got round in season to take enny idee o' escape ye mought hev hed out yer head.

"We know yer air wanted mighty bad up to th' Roads, but we want yer wuss hyur, though they air playin' inter our hands. Still, yer mought give 'em th' slip. Yer can't us! But this ain't bizness.

"To say nothin' o' th' shabby way yer treated th' boys, we hev a double puppose in gittin' yer inter our grips. Yit don't make enny difference to ye wot it is, so long es 'tis so. Now we hev got yer, we hev got a leetle proposition to make yer, on which yer future happiness depends, es th' parson would say.

"'Tan't enny use fer me to deny, but we hev got our eye on thet mail route, 'cos we think yit can be made a mighty payin' investment. Shag wants to run in shacks with us, but we like yer grit well 'nough to make a bargain with ye. Now, if ye'll 'gree to stand in with us, an' do th' square thing, we'll not only give ye a shake in th' profits, but we'll see thet ye don't hev enny trubble. All ye'll hev to do will be to stop yer hoss long 'nough fer us to look th' baggage over. Mind ye, we do th' sortin'. Further, we promise thet ye won't hev enny further trubble at Six Roads, or ennywhere else. Is't a trade, younker?"

Little Snap was so amazed at this audacious scheme that at first he could not find tongue to reply to Bird Burrnock.

"What if I refuse to enter into any such a contract?"

"Then our own safety demands thet we put ye where ye can't trubble us enny more. But ye won't?"

"I'll not stand in with you!"

At this declaration the little knot of listeners started excitedly, and Bird Burrnock, the leader, uttered a fearful oath.

"Then ye wanter die, younker?" he hissed.

"Of course I do not, sir! But I cannot lend my aid to any such infamous scheme. Why, it's robbery of the worst sort, and you cannot carry it on for any length of time without being caught."

"Thet's our lookout. Mebbe ye air shaky in thet direction, but I can tell yer we air well heeled thet way. Why, th' most' influential citizens o' th' Roads air in with us. There's th' judge, an' the colonel. Then, too, we'll take keer o' Shag. Once more, will yer fall with th' plan, or shall we be 'bliged to take desprit measures with yer?"

Little Snap realized that he was in the power of men who would hesitate at nothing to carry out their unlawful purpose, and he thought of his mother even then anxiously awaiting his return home, and imagined the anguish she would feel upon his failure to come. He thought of his father, so helpless to aid the others, and his younger sister and brother, and the sorrow they would experience. Still, with these sad reflections in his mind, and the dread consequence if he refused to comply with the demands of his captors plainly before him, he hesitated but a moment in his reply.

"I cannot accept your terms."

"Fetch erlong th' rope, boys," ordered Bird Burrnock, tersely. "I reckon 'twon't take us long to change his mind."

CHAPTER XX.
A STARTLING DISCOVERY.

Buzzard Burrnock quickly entered one of the dark recesses of the cavern, returning a moment later with a coil of rope on his arm.

"Make a loop in one end," commanded the elder Burrnock. "Be lively, too, fer we don't want to fool with him hyur all day."

When the rope had been arranged to their satisfaction, the noose was slipped over Little Snap's shoulders, so the cord encircled his body under the arms.

"Drag him to th' pit!" cried the leader. "Reckon a leetle consideration there'll take th' starch out'n him."

Buzzard Burrnock and Hawk seized hold of the postboy, one on either side, and half dragging him, he was swiftly taken along a winding passage leading from the underground room, until the sharp voice of Bird Burrnock ordered a halt.

"Swing forward th' torch so's he can see wot's ahead," said the chief, when Little Snap saw to his horror that he stood at the brink of a huge fissure in the rock.

"'Tis bottomless, es fur es we know. At enny rate, it's deep 'nough to send you into eternity. Now, boys, lower him over th' hole, an' let him down till he says he's willin' to agree to our terms. Hev it over es quick es possible."

"Look here!" exclaimed the postboy; "if you are in such haste and time is so valuable to you, I will tell you how you can save this delay. You waste time in thinking you can make me agree to your terms. My answer was final."

The outlaw waved his hand impatiently, when his followers pushed Little Snap over the edge of the abyss, so he dangled from the rope held in their hands.

"Lower him away!" ordered Burrnock. "I reckon a taste o' thet darkness'll bring him to his senses. Lower!"

A thrill of dread ran through the postboy's frame as he sank lower and lower into the unknown depths.

"Why don't ye yell out?" demanded the outlaw chief, his dark visage appearing over the rim of the rock. He was evidently disappointed at the coolness of their victim. "Yell at th' top o' yer lungs; needn't be 'fraid o' ennybuddy hearin' ye! Haw! haw!"

Then the speaker's coarse face disappeared, and Snap was dropped several feet in a jerky manner.

Though he felt that there was no avenue of escape for him, Little Snap did not lose courage, and as he descended he threw out his hands to catch upon the rugged wall.

Once his fingers touched a rough edge of rock, but they slipped away, and he found himself again sinking, when he brushed against a shelf, which was wide enough for him to gain a good hold.