When I awoke it had grown dusk under the corn.

I felt for Uncle Eb and he was gone.

Then I called to him.
'Hush, boy! lie low,' he whispered, bending over me, a sharp look in his eye.' 'Fraid they're after us.' He sat kneeling beside me, holding Fred by the collar and listening.

I could hear voices, the rustle of the corn and the tramp of feet near by.

It was thundering in the distance--that heavy, shaking thunder that seems to take hold of the earth, and there were sounds in the corn like the drawing of sabers and the rush of many feet.