“Very well, sir,” replied Jordan, and picked a detail of five men. They departed up the slope at once.
“You won’t find any ghost hanging around now,” grinned a toothless old man.
The colonel paid no attention to the old man and they hung around for an hour longer. It was now three o’clock, but no one thought of quitting the scene. From snatches of conversation the cadets learned more about the bitter feud that had existed for generations between the Hydes and the Mauls. The last Maul had been drowned in a near-by river.
“At least he was swept down the river in a flood,” a neighbor said. “Nobody ever saw him since.”
“Well, these foolish feuds ought to stop,” growled the colonel. “A lot of innocent people suffer because of them.”
“We’ll attend to our own affairs,” the father said, sullenly. “We don’t need any interfering.”
“If it hadn’t been for our interfering tonight you would have been without a dozen horses and your house, my friend,” returned the colonel, calmly. The Hydes muttered to themselves.
Jordan and the detail returned soon afterward to report that there was no sign of anyone on the hill. “But we found the tracks and a lot of hay up on top of the hill.”
There was now nothing to keep them there any longer and they went back to camp, tired but satisfied. There was no word of thanks from the farmer or his sons.
“Nice, grateful bunch,” grumbled Don, inspecting sore hands and a red burn on his arm.