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worn masks. It is the undisputed right of the kinsmen of a seduced girl in the hill country to capture the lover, take him anywhere without any legal process whatever, and force him to marry his mistress. Such kinsmen had no need of masks. Abner knew they were whitecaps and had taken unto themselves new and unpredictable powers.

"Climb in!" repeated a voice sharply.

Abner stepped on the running board. There was something unearthly and inhuman in the expressionless masks. The black eyeholes were like monsters seen in a nightmare and suggested danger and horror. A sudden desperate plan went through Abner's head, to climb in and while he was in the seat with the men suddenly to draw his pistol and begin shooting. When he put his hand on the door of the motor to step in, the man nearest him slipped a seagrass loop over his wrists and drew them together with a jerk. The masks on the back seat made room for their captive between them. The car manœuvred around in the narrow road; the headlight swept a circle among the trees and then the motor started back to Irontown.

Abner looked from one to the other of the dimly seen masks in an effort to identify his abductors. The small seagrass rope pinched his wrists. He held up his bound hands and complained to the man who held the ropes. The fellow eased the cords a trifle, but not enough to stop all pain. Abner endured the lessened pain without further protest. This slight charity gave the teamster courage to argue.

"Look here, fellers," he began, "you ortn't to do me this way. I'm the man who begun this whitecap business; I got up the first gang. Now, you ortn't to take me out like this. It ain't right."

A figure who had not spoken heretofore now answered Abner in a sepulchral tone, "Remember, poor mortal, that Judas who betrayed Christ was a disciple."

"Damn it!" cried Abner angrily, "what's Judas got to do with me? I ain't done nothin'."