“That’s just what I’m going to do. But afore I set in I’m going to lay down a bit a law. Ye see thet shooter, man; it is loaded to kill. An’ the lead it carries is fer you unless you do just as I tell you. I don’t look like a man who eats his words, do I? Wal, I’m goin’ to set you free. Then I want you to ride forward with us just as if you were doing it willingly. If the party are a Northern squad, I’ll make it all right with them. If they are grays, as I expect, you are to tell them that you are escorting the gal and I to our relative’s in Macon, an’ that we are true blue—I mean in this case gray. Remember I shall watch your every movement and if you dare to betray me by word or sign I’ll shoot you at the moment. My hand will be on this weapon all of the time. Do you understand?”
The man winced but did not offer to speak.
“To prove to you that I will do as I say, I will tell you that I am Old Fatality, the Wizard Scout!”
A groan from the other told that the mention of that dreaded name was not without its effect.
By this time the clatter of horses’ hoofs was near at hand, and without further delay the scout freed the captive.
“Don’t forget my warning!” he hissed in the trembling wretch’s ear. “Come, ride forward and do as I have told you to the letter.”
Without daring to disobey, while hoping that fortune would turn in his favor, the Confederate rode ahead a little in advance of his captor, whose eagle eyes never for an instant left him.
Mara followed a little behind them.
By this time the oncoming cavalcade was near at hand, and a minute later it dashed into sight.
We need not say that they were an anxious trio, though outwardly the Wizard Scout appeared as calm as if expecting to meet friends.