Hear 'em grinding along the gravel over Hamilton's trailin's?
Stopped agin--that's before Somerville's shanty.

What's gone o' them now?
Maybe they've lost the trail and got onto Gray's slide through the woods.

It's no use lookin'; ye couldn't see anything in this nigger dark.

Hol' on! If they're comin' through the woods, ye'll hear 'em again jest off here.
Yes! by thunder! here they are." This time the clatter and horse-hoofs were before them, at the very door.

A man's voice cried, "Whoa!" and there was a sudden bound on the veranda.