"You must go back to bed, straightway. I'll brew ye somethin' hot an' kiver ye up, an' read ter ye twell ye goes ter sleep."
But Mrs. Stacy responded with a short laugh that rasped bitterly.
"Turney air a hidin' out ter-night in thet small cavern whar ye tuck Mr. Henderson oncet. I've done carried him victuals over thar twict since he's been livin' like a varmint in the woods. I war jest makin' ready ter sot out ergin. Ther riders hain't a-meetin' ter-night an' he's thar all by hisself."
"Whar's George Kelly?" demanded Blossom quickly, for she was to some degree initiated in the operating methods of Turner and his followers.
"He's done fared over inter Virginny ter visit his wife. She's ailin'."
"But I don't understand. What does Turner need?"
The mother trembled with a sudden access of the terror she had been fighting back. Her voice rose shrilly and broke: "He needs ter be fore-warned. His enemies hev diskivered whar he's at—an' they aims ter trap him thar ter-night."
The color went out of the girl's face as she questioned tensely. "How—how did ye hear tell of this?"
"A leetle while back I heered a shout outside, an I riz' up an' went ter ther door. Thar wasn't nobody in sight, but I found this hyar letter stuck thar with a pin. Whosoever hit war thet left hit, hed done went away." She held out a clenched, talon-like hand and opened it, and on a small sheet of ruled paper, printed out unevenly, Blossom read the anonymous message: "I can't be seen giving you this letter because I'm accounted to be Kinnard's man. They knows where Bear Cat is hiding to-night and are planning according. Git him warned straightway.—A Friend."
"Thet's all I knows," moaned the mother, "but thar hain't nobody with him—an' he don't suspicion nothin'."