It was a warm, sultry evening in the middle of the week. They had just finished supper at the farmhouse. Dolly, with a book, a manuscript, and a pencil, stood in a thoughtful attitude under a tree on the lawn. She was joined by her uncle, his freckled face beaming with a desire to tease her.
"What time do you all begin your meetin' to-night?" he inquired, introductively.
"Eight o'clock," she said, absently, her gaze bent anxiously on the figures of two men leaning over the barn-yard fence in the thickening shadows. "Who is that father is talking to, Uncle John?" she asked, with a frown.
"It's Gid Sebastian," Webb said. "I saw 'im back on the mountain road lookin' for your pa as I come home."
"That's who it is," Dolly said, dejectedly, a soft sigh escaping her lips. The man had changed his position, and even in the twilight the broad-brimmed hat, sinister features, and dark sweeping mustache were observable. "Uncle John, you know Gid is a moonshiner, don't you?" "Folks says he is," Webb smiled. "An' fellers that like good corn mountain-dew ought to know who makes it. I reckon Gid is about the only moonshiner that has escaped jail up to date. Somehow he knows how to cover his tracks an' let his men git caught an' take the punishment."
Dolly held her pencil to her lips, and, still frowning, looked at the blank manuscript paper. "Uncle John," she faltered, "I want you to--to tell me what he comes to see father so often about?"
Webb's face waxed a trifle more serious. "I don't know--never give it much thought," he said. "I don't know but what your pa once in a while sells Gid some corn to help out his still in a pinch when the authorities are watchin' his movements too close for comfort. I've seed the pile in our crib sink powerful in a single night. You remember the time your ma thought some niggers had broke in an' stole a lot that was shelled? Well, I noticed that your pa kicked powerful agin sendin' for the sheriff an' his dogs, an' you know in reason that he would if he had laid it to the darkies."
Dolly exhaled a deep breath. "Uncle John, I'm awful afraid--I never was so worried in my life. I'm afraid father is actually mixed up with Sebastian's gang, or is about to be."
"Do you think so?" Webb stared seriously. "That would be bad, wouldn't it--that is, if the officers ketched 'im an' had enough proof agin 'im to put 'im in limbo."