The company grinned and he continued: "I seed signs this mo'nin' in th' holler on yon side ol' Ball, when I war' huntin' my mule. An' thar's a big roost down by th' spring back of my place in th' bottoms."
Whitley was interested. "Will you show me where they are?" he asked.
"Might ef I could spar' th' time," replied Jake slowly; "but
I've got my craps ter tend."
Another grin went the rounds. "Jake's sure pushed with his craps," remarked one; "Raises mo' corn, 'n 'ary three men in Arkansaw," remarked another, and with this they all fired a volley of tobacco juice at a tumble bug rolling his ball in the dust near by.
Needless to say, the conversation resulted in Whitley's engaging the moonshiner for seventy-five cents a day, to hunt with him; and for the next two weeks they were always together.
All day long the native led the way over the hills and through the deep ravines and valleys, taking a different course each day, but always the chase led them away from the little ravine that opened on the big road. When Whitley suggested that they try the country where he had lost his way, his guide only laughed contemptuously, "Ain't ye killin' turkey every trip. Ye jist foller me an' I'll sure find 'em fer ye. Ain't nothin' over in that holler. I done tromped all over thar' huntin' that dad burned ol' mule o'mine, an' didn't see nary sign. Thay's usen' 'round th' south side th' ridge. Ye jist lemme take ye 'round." And Jim was forced to admit that he was having good luck and no cause to complain of lack of sport. But he was growing tired of the hills and impatient to return to the city, while his hatred of the man whom he feared, grew hourly.
Jake, seeing that his employer was fast growing tired of the hunt, and guessing shrewdly, from his preoccupied manner, that hunting was not the real object of his stay in the mountains, became more and more suspicious. His careless, good-natured ways and talk changed to a sullen silence and he watched Whitley constantly.
One morning, just at daybreak, as they were walking briskly along the big road on their way to a place where the guide said the game was to be found, Take stopped suddenly, and motioning Jim to be silent, stood in a listening attitude.
Whitley followed his companion's example, but for a minute could hear nothing but the faint rustle of the dead leaves as a gray lizard darted to his hiding place, and the shrill scream of a blue-jay calling his sleepy mates to breakfast. Then the faint thud, thud, thud, of a galloping horse came louder and louder through the morning mist. Evidently someone was riding rapidly toward them.
"Whitley was about to speak, when the other, with a fierce oath and a threatening gesture, stopped him.