All the others except Frank had drifted toward the house, and she had hung behind for the express purpose of getting private speech with him, when she had the day’s first opportunity.

“Mr. Frank,” said she, “afore we go into th’ house I got a word to say to you as I don’t want nobody but you to hear.”

A quick glance at her face showed him that what she had to say was, really, of great importance, for her lovely mouth was serious, her deep eyes were full of worry, her smooth brow was nearer to real frowning than he had ever seen it.

“Why, Madge, what is the matter?”

She put her hand upon his arm, turning her sweet face up to him with a revelation of solicitude which, had she known how plain it was, she would have hidden at all hazard.  “It may mean life or death to you,” she told him solemnly.

“Life or death to me, little girl?  What are you talking of?” said he, almost incredulous.

“Joe Lorey’s still were raided by the revenuers after you come down!”

“It can’t be possible!”

“It is.  It lies in ruins and in ashes an’ he is hidin’ out among th’ mountings, somewhars, in danger, ev’ry minute, of arrest an’, then, of prison.  ‘Twas all he had in th’ wide world.”

“Poor fellow!  I am sorry,” said Layson, with quick sympathy.  “I’ll see what can be done.  And you say he’s hiding out up in the mountains?”

She hesitated.  “I said so, but I reckon it ain’t true, exactly.  It was that that made me hurry down to speak to you.  Some say as how he has come down into th’ bluegrass to find th’ man as gin th’ word.  It is a crime as never is forgiven in th’ mountings.”

As she spoke, unseen, behind them, a dark, slouching, furtive figure slipped across an open space and took a crouching stand behind a tree near by.  Had they listened without speech they might have heard the heavy breathing of the very man of whom they spoke, might have heard the sharp click of the lock of his long rifle as he brought its hammer to full cock.  Had they turned about they might have seen the blue glint of the day’s last light upon that rifle’s barrel, which was levelled straight at Layson’s heart.  But they saw none of these things nor heard a sound.

“Who does he think betrayed him?” Layson asked, with deep interest, but no trace of guilty knowledge, thrilling in his voice.

Madge hesitated.  Then she blurted out the truth.  “Who?” she repeated, “Why—­why you! YOU—­YOU!”

The rifle barrel steadied to its mark, the finger curled to press upon the trigger.

“Why, Madge,” said Layson, earnestly, “I didn’t even know he had a still!  I swear it!”

There was an honest ring in the youth’s voice which could not be mistaken.

“I knowed it warn’t your doin’,” the girl said with a great sigh of relief.

And as she spoke the rifle barrel slowly fell.

“I knowed it warn’t your doin’, but Joe’ll never believe it.  Night an’ day you’ll have to be close on your guard.  There’s no tellin’ what minute your life may be in danger.”