CHAPTER XIII. - BRICK LOGAN'S RE-APPEARANCE.

Never was there a more startled group than that squad of Confederate soldiers looking in vain for their captive.

To a man they swore that he was on the horse just as they had bound him there, when they had entered the stream.

Now the steed was rider less!

Leaving no more trace behind of his disappearance than as if he had been swallowed up by the flood the Wizard Scout had gone from their midst!

"He can't be far away!" exclaimed the leader. " Search the river. He must be in the water. Don't let him escape!"

The party quickly divided into four sections, two following up the stream, one on either side, and the others going down in the same way.

In this way they hoped to find the hiding fugitive who could not be far off.

The banks of the river, however, above and below were marshy and overhung with a thick growth of shrubbery affording many places of concealment to the object of their search.

In one of these coverts half buried in the mud lay the scout, peering out cautiously upon his anxious enemies.

The search of his foes was through, and the pole of one who was raking the water touched the spy's body!

Still the think, matted bushes protected him from their gaze, and thinking they had hit against a log the party moved on down the stream.

An hour was occupied in this diligent search before the Confederates gave up.

"'Taint any use," declared the leader. " The dog well deserves his name. He is in truth a wizard."

"But he can't be but a short ways off."

"Which is nothing in our favor as long as he is invisible. We might as well give up. Come, we'll go back to Woodsville and capture them women. They are in league with him beyond doubt."

"We'll shoot 'em at sight!" cried one of his followers, which cry was echoed by the others.

Maddened by the escape of their captive the horsemen started toward Woodsville at a smart canter to wreak their vengeance upon the inoffensive heads of the two helpless women!

Let us precede them to the home of Mrs. Gray.

Anxiously she and Mara had watched the departure of the soldiers feeling more hopeless than ever before.

With not a friend to whom they could turn in their distress, 'twere little wonder they lost courage.

Pete wisely kept out of sight and half an hour passed without much being said.

Then as Mara was standing by the window she discovered a horseman slowly approaching the house.

The rider seemed to have all that he could do to maintain his seat, while the animal, if we accept an occasional jerk upon the reins, was allowed to follow the bent of his own inclination.

" Who can it be?" exclaimed Mara, as they watched his irregular approach.

" Some drunken soldier, doubtless. And he is coming here! Where is that rascal, Pete?"

Mara did not speak. As the rider came nearer something in his appearance seemed familiar to her.

Eagerly she waited his approach and when she had seen his tawny hair and the bold, handsome face, though careworn and haggard now, a low cry of joy left her lips.

It was Brick Logan!

There are times in the lives of some when the presence even of one disliked and dreaded is a welcome sight.

It was so with Mara Morland then.

Brick Logan had been her enemy, but she hailed his appearance at that time with joy.

As he stopped in front of the house she ran to the door to meet him.

He started at sight of her and in a husky tone he exclaimed: "Can that be you, Mara Morland?"

"It is I, Mr. Logan, as you see. But what has happened to you? You are ill!"

"I am wounded—I fear unto death! Can I come in?"

"Of course. Here, Mrs. Gray, please help me."

With their united efforts they helped the sufferer to dismount and assisted him into the house.

" You are very kind," he murmured as he sank upon a couch. " I could not have gone any further."

" What can we do for you?"

" I need rest and food most of all. It has been three days since I have eaten more than a little raw meat. But how came you here. Mara? You are the last person I thought of seeing here."

While Mrs. Gray brought him some food and he eat it, Mara told him something of her adventures.

" You have had a hard time," he said. '' And you owe it to Major Dermot more than all others."

"I know," said she. "But where have you been and how came you in this sorry plight?"

"I do not wonder at your questions. I have met the reverses of war. I was in the light at Resaca, and later at Cassville. I was taken prisoner there—by whom do you suppose? Cavalry Curt, your lover! Yes; we met in square fight and he was the better man. I was thrown into prison, but with one other succeeded in escaping. The poor fellow with me was soon after shot but as you see, more dead than alive, I am here."

"You have indeed seen hard times. But why didn't you go to General Johnston's army?"

" I am not able to do service. Besides I have seen about enough of fighting. By the way did you know that Major Dermot was killed at Resaca?"

"No."

" He was. Few tears will be shed over his fate, I think. Of course you know of poor Harry's fate. The disgrace they put upon him maddened him and he rushed to death at Wing Ridge. He made a gallant charge."

"Poor Harry! I cannot think of him as no more. How thankful I shall be when the Yankee legion is driven from our land and the war is over."

"The war may soon end. I think it will. But I am not so sure of the defeat of our enemy. In the southwest we have been unsuccessful; Johnston must eventually surrender to Sherman; and then Lee, left alone, must yield. I tell you, Mara, the odds——"

" Hold, Brick Logan! what you say is treason."

He smiled faintly.

" Don't misunderstand me, Miss Morland. Though I may never be able to do battle for it again, I _am still a supporter of the States' cause. We have gone too far to retreat, though I cannot help foreseeing that we are the weaker power and that it is right, for we are in the wrong. They are fighting for the same Union that our forefathers bought with their blood under Sumter and Marion. I do not wonder that you looked surprised, though I repeat that from the very stubbornness of my nature I am yet a faithful Southerner. When conquered I am ready to yield. But I would not blame you, Mara Morland, if your sympathies went out to the Federal cause. Your own side has been your enemy's. All you have suffered is due to those who should have been your protectors. A rebel force made you a fugitive, a rebel fire destroyed your home, a rebel band took your grandfather's life, a rebel bullet ended your brother's career at Wing Ridge, and with a lover in the northern——"

" Stop, Brick Logan, if——"

"Look!" cried Mrs. Gray, excitedly, "there come those soldiers back!''