“Wall, what's that to me? Yer didn't expect to find it here in this cabin, did ye?”
“Not exactly in the cabin, but we heard it was down here.”
“Wall, that's about so, but I found the critter lying down in the bottoms, and I concluded she was as much mine as any one's.”
“That ain't so, for we own the cow; that is to say, she joined our drove of cattle we are taking to the army, and so we have the first claim on her.”
The man seemed to be listening. He paused a moment, and looked furtively around, and then at the two armed men. He went on:
“I'd not have troubled it, only for the sake of my little un there. She's sick, and can't eat a thing. She'll die soon without some nourishment,” and he pointed toward the child, who was the picture of starvation.
Tom's heart was tender. He saw the man had not overstated the case, and he rose to go.
“Come, Jim,” he said, “You can see the child needs that milk bad—worse than we do. Mister,” he said, turning to the man, “you are welcome to the cow, on one condition; and that is, that you promise on your word as a father that the little girl may have all the milk she can drink, every day.”
The woman had not spoken till now, but with a glad look she started to her feet, and pressing the child into its father's arms, she said—“Jack, that's a fair bargain. And you're a fair man, sir, after all.”
The man looked at Tom, then out of the window, and said—“Look here, young fellow, you've, shown you've got a heart, and I won't be beat in doing the fair thing, by any one. This neighborhood is full of fellows who wouldn't mind giving you a chance shot. The woman up at the big house has given them the word that you're here, and before you know it, there'll be a committee sent to wait upon you. Don't go back the same road you came, but strike for that piece of woods, and then cut across the fields, and you may get away. Hurry—you haven't much time before you—you know the rest.”