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"Dad burn it, we'll take the 'fugitive' for granted. Yo' kin lie

up here long as yo' like, friend. I'll guarantee yo' to my

neighbors. I reckon if they don't like it they kin lump it. I

ain't a-going to give up the man that saved my gyurl's life."

The door opened and let in Miss Ruth Dillon. The little old lady

had the newspaper in her hand, and her beady eyes were shining

with excitement.

"It's all in here, Mr. Fraser--about your capture and escape. But

you didn't tell us all of it. Perhaps you didn't know, though,

that they had plans to storm the jail and hang you?"

"Yes, I knew that," the Texan answered coolly. "The jailer told

me what was coming to me. I decided not to wait and see whether

he was lying. I wrenched a bar from the window, lowered myself by

my bedding, flew the coop, and borrowed a horse. That's the whole

story, ma'am, except that Miss Arlie brought me here to hide me."

"Read aloud what the paper says," Dillon ordered.