"If they do they can't reach us through that slough." He leaned his rifle against the log and again thrusting an arm into the place where it had been concealed drew forth a small box.
"Powder and ball--and grub!" he laughed.

"You see I am a sort of revolutionist and have my hiding-places.

To-morrow--I will be a martyr." He spoke as quietly as though his words but carried a careless jest.
"A martyr ?" laughed Nathaniel, looking down into the smiling, sweating face.
"Yes, to-morrow I shall kill Strang." There was no excitement in Neil's voice as he stood erect.

The smile did not leave his lips.

But in his eyes there shone that which neither words nor smiling lips revealed, a reckless, blazing fury hidden deep in them--so deep that Nathaniel stared to assure himself what it was.