The whole fabric of crime by which he had been benefited in the
past or had expected to profit in the future seemed toppling in
upon him, but his mind clutched one important fact. Hues, if he
knew of Betty's disappearance, did not connect Murrell with it.
Ware sucked in comfort between his twitching lips. Stealing
niggers! No one would believe that he, a planter, had a hand in
that, and for a brief instant he considered signaling Bess to
return. Slosson must be told of Murrell's arrest; but he was
sick with apprehension, some trap might have been prepared for
him, he could not know; and the impulse to act forsook him.
He smote his hands together in a hopeless, beaten gesture. And
Murrell had gone weak--with his own eyes he had seen it--Murrell
--whom he believed without fear! He felt that he had been
grievously betrayed in his trust and a hot rage poured through
him. At last he climbed into the saddle, and swaying like a
drunken man, galloped off.
When he reached the river road he paused and scanned its dusty
surface. Hues and his party had turned south when they issued
from the wood path. No doubt Murrell was being taken to Memphis.
Ware laughed harshly. The outlaw would be free before another
dawn broke.
He had halted near where Jim had turned his team the previous
night after Betty and Hannibal had left the carriage; the marks
of the wheels were as plainly distinguishable as the more recent
trail left by the four men, and as he grasped the significance of
that wide half circle his sense of injury overwhelmed him again.
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