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Abner looked and sure enough, there was Zed walking down the village street with an old country man.

"Who's the old man?" asked Abner.

Tug strained his eyes. "That looks kinder like ol' man Tolbert."

The teamsters hurried forward, and as they drew near Abner noted that old man Tolbert held a gun in his hand, a long, muzzle-loading squirrel rifle. Abner had not observed it until it swung out of line with his eyes. Now, such an accessory was not at all uncommon among the hillmen who came into the village, but just at this juncture the squirrel rifle took on a certain possible significance to Abner. He looked sharply at Tug and suddenly realized that Tug had recognized old man Tolbert at an almost impossible distance. Then it dawned on Abner that there was something queer in the very way Zed was walking. The teamster forgot his jealousy and hurried on with a vague apprehension growing in his heart.

At some distance ahead two or three little boys ran out into the street and began whooping; still farther on, where the business section of the village set in, a crowd was gathering.

An impulse struck both teamsters to cut down an alley, run to the garage, and be there when Zed and old man Tolbert passed. It would have been undignified for them to come running after Zed right before the gathering crowd, that would not have looked right. The fact that this curiosity spurred flight did not comport exactly with the passionate friendship Abner at that moment had been vowing for Zed never struck the youth.

Both teamsters bolted down a by-way and ran stooping along a parallel alley and presently panted into the side door of the garage. Then they dodged among motors and spare parts, sharply afraid that Zed would pass the front door before they arrived there.

On the oily platform in front of the garage some half-a-dozen youths were grinning and staring fixedly down the