Along toward five o'clock (for the dusk came on early these brief October days) the Squire got his horse and started homeward. He had chosen to ride a horse on this occasion, for he did not wish to be importuned to give any one a seat in his buggy on the way back, and there was no prospect of having the pretty toll-gate keeper for company, for she was helping her mother collect toll, as it was court day. Moreover, for special reasons of his own, the Squire desired to be alone.
He jogged along at a moderate pace until he reached the top of the first hill; then he let his horse drop into a slow walk, for, on looking back, he saw in the waning light a horseman approaching from the town, and judging that it was the person he wanted to see, he came to a halt in the road when the overhanging elm was reached.
"What news?" asked he, as the other rode up.
"The night riders will be out again tonight, sure an' certain."
"About what time will they make a raid?"
"Along towards midnight—perhaps a little later."
"And what gate will they attack?"
"This one," answered his companion, nodding down the road.
"What! the New Pike gate?" exclaimed the Squire.
"Yes, it was decided at the last moment by the captain."