The men touched their hats smilingly, and the man who had told Roxy that her father would be proud to be called a Yankee, said:
“The Yank has fooled us and got well away, unless he’s hiding somewhere near at hand. You haven’t seen any half-starved runaway soldier about here, have you?” and he turned his sharp glance on the two girls.
“Oh, no!” Polly answered. “We wouldn’t let any soldier starve in Maryland. But I haven’t seen anyone since I met you on the road.”
The man nodded and smiled, and was about to ride on when his companion said gruffly:
“What about that other girl? She’s a Yankee. Maybe she’s hiding the fellow, or else her folks may be.”
Roxy’s frightened glance convinced both the men that it might be possible the speaker was right, and when she turned and fled up the slope toward home they were sure of it, and in an instant both the men were off their horses and after her.
“If she reaches the house and warns him he’ll get away from us again,” panted the short man as he found himself obliged to climb the wall.
As Roxy neared home she began to call: “Mother! Mother!” at the top of her voice, so that when she dashed into the yard with the two men close behind her not only Mrs. Delfield but Grandma Miller, Dulcie and two negroes from a near-by field were all hurrying to meet her.
With her mother’s arms about her, and Grandma Miller facing her pursuers, Roxy began to feel less frightened. She heard the strangers tell their errand, and explain that Roxy had told them she was a Yankee girl.
“You are Southern soldiers and you will take the word of a Maryland woman,” said Mrs. Miller, “and I assure you that neither I or any member of my household have seen the runaway. Beside that, even if we sheltered him, you have no authority to demand him at our hands, nor would we permit such a thing. Gentlemen, Maryland is a loyal state,” and without waiting for any response Grandma Miller turned toward the house followed by Mrs. Delfield leading Roxy.