of all the men and women in Dunsmore not one had even chanced to see that smoke until the doctor's eyes had spied it.

"Smoke, sor?—so it be," said old Timothy, with a great pretense of straining his eyes to see it. "It's a fire in the woods, belike. Some tramping fellows on a hunt."

"It is always in one spot," said the doctor, "though sometimes it disappears for weeks. Is there any road that way?"

"Not the track of a squurl, yer honor. There's not a wilder bit in all the State, I'm thinkin'."

"I believe one might find a way on horseback," said the doctor, "and I shall try it some day."

"Ye'd best not do it. I'd be loath to see ye leaving a good trade for a bad one." Timothy grasped his hickory cane, and shook his grizzled head at the doctor. Then, coming a step nearer, he whispered, "Moonshiners."

"To be sure," said the doctor, turning again to look at the smoke.

"It's a bad business," said Timothy, carefully studying the doctor's face.

"Yes, it's a bad business, making whiskey, or selling it, or drinking it; but paying a tax to the government does not make it any better. I believe every dollar that comes to the government from such a source is a curse."

Timothy drew a long breath.

"You're right, sor. I'm not beholden to the stuff myself; but yer honor's done me a good turn, and I couldn't see ye bringin' trouble on yerself by askin' too many questions. It mightn't be—pop'lar, sor."

The doctor asked no more questions, but he watched the blue smoke more curiously than ever, wondering much about the outlaws who carried on their secret trade in the mountain fastnesses. He had been thinking of them that very morning as he rode along, with the reins lying loosely on his knee, when suddenly Prince gave a start that roused his driver. A small figure stepped out from the shadow of a rock, and stood close beside the gig, saying,

"Would you come to my feyther, sir?"

"Who is your father?" asked the doctor.

"He's sick this three days," answered the boy.

"What is his name? Where do you live?"

"It's not far, sir," said the boy, without answering the question.

"Well, jump in here;" and the doctor held down his hand.

"Ye'll not be riding, sir; it's a bit off the road."

The doctor hesitated a moment, then fastened Prince securely in the edge of the woods, and with his box in his hand prepared to follow his guide.

"Now, then, Johnny, go ahead."

"My name is Conny, sir," said the boy.

"Conny, is it? And what else?"

"Just Conny, sir;" and the boy led the way rapidly through what looked like a pathless tangle, until below a sharp ledge of rocks they struck a little stream by whose side they found a narrow but easy passage into the very heart of the wood.