“All ready.”

“Now, George Jackson, do you know the Shepherdsons?”

“No, sir; I never heard of them.”

“Well, that may be so, and it mayn’t.

Now, all ready. Step forward, George Jackson. And mind, don’t you hurry — come mighty slow. If there’s anybody with you, let him keep back — if he shows himself he’ll be shot. Come along now. Come slow; push the door open yourself — just enough to squeeze in, d’you hear?”

I didn’t hurry; I couldn’t if I’d a-wanted to. I took one slow step at a time and there warn’t a sound, only I thought I could hear my heart. The dogs were as