"How often do you meet?" inquired Scobell.
"We meets ebery two weeks, down at Uncle Dicky Bassett's—he libs on de bluff ob de ribber 'bout a mile furder down de road to'rds Wilson's Landin'."
"How far is it to Wilson's landing?" asked Scobell, who, finding that Uncle Gallus was a member of the League, was now no longer loth to talk with him.
"A little grain de rise ob twenty mile," replied the old man.
"About sundown, then," said Scobell, "these horses must be saddled and ready for the missus and me, for we must be at the landing before midnight."
"All right," rejoined Uncle Gallus, "dey'll be ready when yu want 'em."
"See heah now, is yure name John?" suddenly asked the old man, as if an idea had just occurred to him.
"Yes, that's what they call me."
"An' you cum frum Richmun' dis mo'nin?"
Scobell nodded.