"Who is that you spoke to?" asked the former, when they were at a safe distance.
"Dis yere blasted limb reached down and pulled my wool," replied the negro, with perfect nonchalance.
"Where is George Leland?" asked Leslie.
"Dunno; slipped away from dese yere nice fellers what's pulled all de wool out of me head, and is tellin' me a lot o' yarns to tell you. Gorra mighty! can't you let a feller 'lone, when he's yarnin' as good as he can?"
"Where is Miss Leland?"
"How does I know? A lot of 'em run off wid her last night."
"Oh God! what I expected," said Leslie, dropping his voice, and gazing with an agonizing look at Whiteman. The latter, regardless of his emotion, continued his conversation with Zeb.
"Are you hurt any?"
"Considerable."
"Now, Zeb, tell the truth. Did they capture George Leland?"