“Where is Cousin Mayo?� asked Anne. “We’ve been looking and looking for him to come back.�
Red Mayo glanced away. He answered in a queer, hesitating voice. “He—he couldn’t come now.�
Polly Osborne’s face was as pale as death and drawn with anguish. Red Mayo, keeping his eyes still averted, did not see it. She spoke in a firm, low voice: “What about Mayo?�
“The fact is,� Mr. Spotswood said, “Mayo—he told me to tell you, Polly—Mayo—Mayo has been arrested.�
“Arrested!� she repeated blankly.
“Arrested,� Red Mayo said. “Jake Andrews came with a warrant. Arrested as—as a pro-German, or something. But—he ran away.�
“What!� exclaimed Anne, in amazement.
By degrees they got the story. Mr. Osborne had ridden to The Village, without seeing Cæsar or Solomon Gabe or Isham. He quickly told his tale to the men who were waiting for him to start an organized search for Anne; had she and Dick reached Larkland a few minutes later, the deserter would have found all the Villagers away in search of Anne, and the post office would have been easily rifled. As it was, the Village men hid in the post office and waited till Cæsar came through a window and seized him. Only one of the older negroes, probably Solomon Gabe, came with Cæsar to The Village; he stayed outside the office, and ran away when the fracas began inside. They sent a few shots after him in the darkness, but evidently without effect.
They carried Cæsar to the jail and locked him in a cell, to await the officer who was to take him back to Camp Lee.
And then in the early morning, just as Black Mayo was starting home, Jake Andrews rode up The Street.