“How far did he jump? What made him jump, anyway, Ethan?” said Bob.
“He jumped straight into Canada, and then he jumped back again.”
“Was he any relation to the wise man who jumped into the bramble bush? Ever hear that story, Ethan? It’s a good one. Jock knows it, and he’ll tell it to you if you want him to,” said Bob.
“Tell us about the bounty jumpers,” interrupted Jock, quickly.
“Well,” began Ethan, slowly, “you know, they was a-offerin’ a bounty of a thousand dollars to every man who’d enlist.”
“When?” interrupted Bob. “Was it during the War of 1812?”
“No. ’Twas in the secesh war, that’s when it was.”
“You weren’t here when the War of 1812 broke out, were you, Ethan?” inquired Bob, soberly.
Ignoring the laugh which followed, Ethan went on: “They wanted men putty bad in the Civil War, and so they offered a thousand dollars to every one who’d enlist. Well, lots enlisted; and then, after they’d got their money, they’d leave the army and put straight for this river, and git over into Canada. Then they’d cross over the border somewhere, and enlist somewhere else, take another thousand dollars and light out for Canada again. ’Twas a payin’ job in those days; paid better’n drivin’ a horse-car down to the city. There were regular ‘bounty brokers,’ as they were called, to help these rascals, and finally the government sent some provost marshals up here to look out for these fellows, and one of the liveliest tilts happened right by that island.