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“Jethro,” she whispered in the ear of her playmate, “I hated jist orful to-day, an’ I didn’t hev a cheerful liver. Let’s pray together if the Lord will fergive all of us, me an’ those hateful boys, too.” Pat Bliggin’s mind was undoubtedly wandering, so a drastic question was in order. The three men lined up in front of the closed door, and one of the deputies quickly threw it open. For an instant the officers stood motionless with weapons drawn. Billy watched with fascinated eyes; the moment the door opened forgot orders, ran and crouched behind the Sheriff, peering under his uplifted arm. There in the lurid firelight that streamed through the closed window, stood the two men he had seen before, hands up, rigid, staring into pistol barrels. Floor boards were torn up; strange vessels, scales, various paraphernalia Billy could not understand, lay about them; while in a deep hole they had dug, a small, iron-bound chest was partially covered with earth. The men’s faces were smutched, streaming with perspiration, and pale with terror. “But this is the time my mama needs me,” May Nell sobbed; “Sunday night in the two-light time, before the stars come out, really, and when the shadow people creep from the corners and blink at you.”.