part in their crimes."

The sheriff had been in and out several times during the five hours that

Vincent's search had taken up. When he returned again Vincent pointed

out the entry he had found.

"I should not be at all surprised if that's our man," the sheriff said.

"I know old Porter well, for he is still alive and bears a pretty bad

reputation still, though we have never been able to bring him to book. I

remember all the circumstances of that affair, for I served upon the

posse. While Porter was in prison his house was kept for him by a

married daughter and her husband. There was a strong suspicion that the

man was one of the gang too, but we couldn't prove it. They have lived

there ever since. They have got five or six field hands, and are said to

be well off. We have no doubt they have got a still somewhere in the

swamps, but we have never been able to find it. I will send a man off

to-morrow to make inquiries whether any stranger has arrived there

lately. Of course, Pearson will not have kept that name, and he will not

have appeared as John Porter, for he would be arrested on a fresh

warrant at once for his share in that former business. I think, Captain

Wingfield, you had better register at the hotel here under some other

name. I don't suppose that he has any fear of being tracked here; still

it is just possible his father may have got somebody here and at

Florence to keep their eyes open and let him know if there are any

inquiries being made by strangers about a missing negress. One cannot be

too careful. If he got the least hint, his son and the woman would be

hidden away in the swamps before we could get there, and there would be

no saying when we could find him."

Vincent took the sheriff's advice, and entered his name in the hotel

book as Mr. Vincent. Late in the evening the sheriff came round to him.

"I have just sent summonses to six men. I would rather have had two or

three more, but young men are very scarce around here now; and as with

you and myself that brings it up to eight that ought to be sufficient,

as these fellows will have no time to summon any of their friends to

their assistance. Have you a rifle, Captain Wingfield?"

"No; I have a brace of revolvers."

"They are useful enough for close work," the sheriff said, "but if they

see us coming, and barricade their house and open fire upon us, you will

want something that carries further than a revolver. I can lend you a

rifle as well as a horse if you will accept them."

Vincent accepted the offer with thanks. The next morning at daylight he

went round to the sheriff's house, where six determined-looking men,

belonging to the town or neighboring farms, were assembled. Slinging the

rifle that the sheriff handed him across his back, Vincent at once

mounted, and the party set off at a brisk trot.

"My man came back half an hour ago," the sheriff said to Vincent as they

rode along. "He found out that a man answering to your description

arrived with another at Porter's about a fortnight ago, and is staying

there still. Whether they brought a negress with them or not no one

seems to have noticed. However, there is not a shadow of doubt that it

is our man, and I shall be heartily glad to lay hold of him; for a

brother of mine was badly wounded in that last affair, and though he

lived some years afterward he was never the same man again. So I have a

personal interest in it, you see."

"How far is it to Porter's?"

"About thirty-five miles. We shall get there about two o'clock, I

reckon. We are all pretty well mounted and can keep at this pace, with a

break or two, till we get there. I propose that we dismount when we get

within half a mile of the place. We will try and get hold of some one

who knows the country well, and get him to lead three of us round

through the edge of the swamp to the back of the house. It stands within

fifty yards of the swamp. I have no doubt they put it there so that they

might escape if pressed, and also to prevent their being observed going

backward and forward to that still of theirs."

This plan was followed out. A negro lad was found who, on the promise of

a couple of dollars, agreed to act as guide. Three of the party were

then told off to follow him, and the rest, after waiting for half an

hour to allow them to make the detour, mounted their horses and rode

down at a gallop to the house. When they were within a short distance of

it they heard a shout, and a man who was lounging near the door ran

inside. Almost instantly they saw the shutters swing back across the

windows, and when they drew up fifty yards from the door the barrels of

four rifles were pushed out through slits in the shutters.

The sheriff held up his hand. "William Porter, I want a word with you."

A shutter in an upper room opened, and an elderly man appeared with a

rifle in his hand.

"William Porter," the sheriff said, "I have a warrant for the arrest of

two men now in your house on the charge of kidnaping a female slave, the

property of Captain Wingfield here. I have no proof that you had any

share in the matter, or that you are aware that the slave was not

honestly obtained. In the second place, I have a warrant for the arrest

of your son John Porter, now in your house and passing recently under

the name of Jonas Pearson, on the charge of resisting and killing the

officers of the law on the 5th of December, 1851. I counsel you to hand

over these men to me without resistance. You know what happened when

your sons defied the law before, and what will happen now if you refuse

compliance."

"Yah!" the old man shouted. "Do you suppose we are going to give in to

five men? Not if we know it. Now, I warn you, move yourself off while I

let you, else you will get a bullet in you before I count three."

"Very well, then. You must take the consequences," the sheriff replied,

and at once called the party to fall back.

"We must dismount," he said in answer to Vincent's look of surprise;

"they would riddle us here on horseback in the open. Besides we must

dismount to break in the door."

They rode back a quarter of a mile, and then dismounted. The sheriff

took two heavy axes that hung from his saddle, and handed them to two of

the men.

"I reckoned we should have trouble," he said. "However, I hope we

sha'n't have to use these. My idea is to crawl up through the corn-field

until we are within shooting distance, and then to open fire at the

loopholes. They have never taken the trouble to grub up the stumps, and

each man must look out for shelter. I want to make it so hot for them

that they will try to bolt to the swamp, and in that case they will be

covered by the men there. I told them not to fire until they got quite

close; so they ought to dispose of three of them, and as they have got

pistols they will be able to master the others; besides, directly we

hear firing behind, we shall jump up and make a rush round. Do you, sir,

and James Wilkins here, stop in front. Two of them might make a rush out

behind, and the others, when they have drawn us off, bolt in front."

Several shots were fired at the party as they made their way across to

the end of the field, where the tall stalks of maize were still

standing, though the corn had been gathered weeks before. As soon as

they reached the shelter they separated, each crawling through the maize

until they arrived within fifty yards of the house. There were, as the

sheriff had said, many stumps still standing, and each ensconced himself

behind one of those, and began to reply to the fire that the defenders

had kept up whenever they saw a movement among the corn stalks.

At such a distance the shutters were but of slight advantage to the

defenders of the house; for the assailants were all good shots, and the

loopholes afforded excellent targets at such a distance. After a few

shots had been fired from the house the fire of the defenders ceased,

the men within not daring to protrude the rifles through the loopholes,

as every such appearance was instantly followed by a couple of shots

from the corn patch.

"Give me one of those axes," the sheriff said. "Now, Withers, do you

make a rush with me to the door. Get your rifle loaded before you start,

and have your revolver handy in your belt. Now, Captain Wingfield, do

you and the other two keep a sharp lookout at the loopholes, and see

that they don't get a shot at us as we run. Now, Withers," and the

sheriff ran forward. Two rifles were protruded through the loopholes.

Vincent and his companions fired at once. One of the rifles gave a sharp

jerk and disappeared, the other was fired, and Withers dropped his axe,

but still ran forward. The sheriff began an onslaught at the door, his

companion's right arm being useless. A minute later the sharp crack of

rifles was heard in the rear, and the sheriff and two men rushed in that

direction, while Vincent and the other lay watching the door. Scarcely

had the sheriff's party disappeared round the house than the door was

thrown open, and Pearson ran out at full speed. Vincent leaped to his

feet.

"Surrender," he said, "or you are a dead man."

Jonas paused for a moment with a loud imprecation, and then leveling a

revolver, fired. Vincent felt a moment's pain in the cheek, but before

he could level his rifle his companion fired, and Pearson fell forward

dead. A minute later the sheriff and his party ran round.

"Have you got him?" he asked.

"He will give no more trouble, sheriff," the young man who fired said.

"I fancy I had him plum between the eyes. How about the others?"

"Dick Matheson is killed; he got two bullets in his body. The other man

is badly wounded. There are no signs of old Porter."

They now advanced to the door, which stood open. As the sheriff entered

there was a sharp report, and he fell back shot through the heart. The

rest made a rush forward. Another shot was fired, but this missed them,

and before it could be repeated they had wrested the pistol from the

hand of Matheson's wife. She was firmly secured, and they then entered

the kitchen, where, crouched upon the floor, lay some seven or eight

negro men and women in an agony of terror. Vincent's question, "Dinah,

where are you?" was answered by a scream of delight; and Dinah, who had

been covering her child with her body, leaped to her feet.

"It's all right, Dinah," Vincent said; "but stay here, we haven't

finished this business yet."

"I fancy the old man's upstairs," one of the men said. "It was his

rifle, I reckon, that disappeared when we fired."

It was as he expected. Porter was found dead behind the loophole, a

bullet having passed through his brain. The deputy-sheriff, who was with

the party, now took the command. A cart and horse were found in an

out-building; in these the wounded man, who was one of those who had

taken part in the abduction of Dinah, was placed, together with the

female prisoner and the dead body of the sheriff. The negroes were told

to follow; and the horses having been fetched the party mounted and rode

off to the next village, five miles on their way back. Here they halted

for the night, and the next day went on to Marion Courthouse, Vincent

hiring a cart for the conveyance of Dinah and the other women. It was

settled that Vincent's attendance at the trial of the two prisoners

would not be necessary, as the man would be tried for armed resistance

to the law, and the woman for murdering the sheriff. The facts could be

proved by other witnesses, and as there could be no doubt about

obtaining convictions, it would be unnecessary to try the charge against

the man for kidnaping. Next day, accordingly, Vincent started with Dinah

and Dan for Richmond. Two months afterward he saw in the paper that Jane

Matheson had been sentenced to imprisonment for life, the man to

fourteen years.