“Yes,” returned the Major. “I hear you boys are Kentuckians.”
“We are,” said Macgreggor stoutly; “we are ready to die for our country, and so we are journeying southward to enlist.”
“You’re a pretty young chap to take up arms,” observed the Major, eyeing George keenly.
“One is never too young to do that,” answered the boy. He was determined to put a bold face on the affair, and he saw no reason why the Confederate officer should suspect him if he spoke up unhesitatingly.
“The South has need of all her loyal sons,” remarked Watson, who felt no compunction in deceiving the Major, whatever might have been his sentiments as to hoodwinking Mrs. Page.
“So you all come from Kentucky?” went on the officer. “That interests me, for I come from Kentucky myself!”
The jaws of the three strangers dropped simultaneously. Had a bomb fallen at their feet they could not have been more disconcerted. What did they know about Kentucky, if they had to be put through a series of cross-questions by a native! But there was no reason, after all, why the Major should dwell on the subject.
“I thought Mrs. Page said you belonged to a Virginia regiment,” exclaimed Macgreggor, almost involuntarily.
“So I do,” replied the Major, “but I only settled in Virginia two years ago. I was born and bred in Kentucky, and there’s no state like it—now is there?”
“No!” cried the trio, with a well-feigned attempt at enthusiasm. They felt that they were treading on dangerous ground, and resolved to play their parts as well as they could.