"Just the thing!" exclaimed the other two. Without warning, Fred found himself covered by three revolvers.
"Come, young man," said one of the soldiers, threateningly, "off of that hoss, and be quick about it, too."
"What does this mean?" said Fred, trying to keep cool.
"It means the Confederate States of America have use for that hoss; so climb down quick, and none of your lip."
"But, gentlemen——"
"No buts about it," broke in the soldier fiercely. "Do you mean to say you refuse to contribute a hoss to the cause? You ought to be in the ranks yourself instead of whining about a hoss. You must be a Lincolnite or a coward. Get off, or I will let daylight through your carcass."
There was no use parleying; so without saying a word Fred dismounted. The soldier in great glee, congratulating himself on his good fortune, mounted. Prince laid back his ears, and a wicked gleam came into his eyes, but as Fred said nothing, the horse made no objection.
"Say, boy," exclaimed the soldier, "you can have my hoss there; it's a fair trade, you see," and with a laugh and a jeer they rode away.
Fred let them go a short distance, when he suddenly gave a peculiar short whistle. Prince gave a great bound, then wheeled as quick as lightning. His rider was thrown with prodigious force, and lay senseless in the road. At full speed the horse ran back and stopped by the side of his owner, quivering with excitement. Fred vaulted into the saddle, and with a yell of defiance dashed back in the direction he had come. Coming to a cross road, he followed it until he came to a road leading in the direction he wished to go.
"Hi! Prince, old fellow, that was a trick those fellows weren't on to," said Fred, patting the glossy neck of his horse. "You did it capitally, my boy, capitally."