He thrust the paper into Late’s hand. Then the lads mounted and rode slowly away. A half-mile beyond the house they came to the road of which the negro had spoken. Turning into this they galloped along as rapidly as the rough way and darkness would permit. At dawn the tiny settlement was in sight. Pausing to rest the panting steeds, they opened and read Mistress Le Geyt’s letter.
“My dear guests,” it began, “I regret greatly that my father, David Daggett, imprisoned you. He is not quite himself, and insists that you are rebels. No persuasion of mine can convince him you are Ira’s friends. He declares he saw you come from the lines of the enemy, and followed you all the way up the river. I suspect your misfortunes were due to him, and, as far as possible, make restitution. Cæsar will fix your room so that it will look as if you made your own escape. Tell Ira, when you see him, that I did all I could in your behalf, for his sake. Your friend,
“Sarah Le Geyt.”
“Look here, Late,” Joe exclaimed after they had read the note, “these horses are goin’ back to that woman! The clothes an’ guns I’m willin’ to keep in the place of those that crazy old David burned; but I won’t take anything more.”
“I reckon that’s the proper figure,” his companion said after a little thought. “We can send them back from the settlement. It’s less than forty miles to the fort, an’ by hard walkin’ we can fetch there ’fore midnight. Can’t you write a note tellin’ her why we send the horses back?”
“I’m not much at writin’,” Joe replied; “but I can fix up somethin’. Guess we can get what’s needed on ahead here.”
The young scouts were more fortunate than they had expected. At the falls they met a man who wanted to go down the river to his home, a few miles below Hiram Le Geyt’s. He readily consented to take the animals back, and deliver their letter to the mistress. Therefore Joe, with some suggestions from Late, wrote:
“Good Mistress Le Geyt: We are rebels, so we send back your horses. We keep the other things ’cause your father destroyed ours. We can’t tell you how we came to know ’bout Ira. Thank you for all you did for us. We’ll be kind to the next Tory we meet, for your sake. Good-by.
“Late and Joe.”
“I feel better,” the latter said, when the man, who was taking back the horses, had disappeared. “It don’t seem as though we’d imposed on that woman quite so much.”
“I was wonderin’ if she’d have been so kind to us had she known we were rebels,” his comrade said. “Howsomever, we’ve ben purty square with her, seein’ she’s a Tory.”
A few moments later they set out for the fort, striking off through the forest, as their custom had been, instead of following the regular trail, a fact which saved them from another encounter with David Daggett, for he, with a half-dozen servants at his heels, had come in hot pursuit.