"I kem har," continued the man, weakly. "I turned on ther devils, but when I run in har an' you-uns tackled me, I judged I had struck a trap."

"It was no trap, Rufe Kenyon," said Frank, quietly.

The hunted man started up and slunk away.

"You know me!" he gasped.

"We do."

"An' still ye say you-uns are not my enemies."

"We are not."

"Then how do you know me? I never saw yer afore."

"No; but we have heard of you."

"How?"