“Go on, Cuff,” said Mr. Dawson; and all he did was to reach in and give his wife a cordial grasp of the hand. “Keep right in this road until you strike the main road, and then go for the bridge the best you know how.”
“But, Bobo, I don’t see what them folks should want to burn our house for,” said the boy. “We’ve always minded our own business—”
“Wait till we get to where we are going and then I will tell you all about it,” said Dawson; and that settled the question of burning the house until the party reached Ellisville.
Following the directions of his master, the negro stuck to the woods-road, while Mr. Dawson and the boys stopped in a fence-corner to reconnoiter. The house was a mile away, but it threw out so much light that anything that happened around it could be plainly seen. They saw some of the men moving about, and when everything was well started they all mounted their horses and disappeared down the road in the direction of Mobile. But they had an old soldier to contend with in Mr. Dawson, who did not leave his hiding-place for an hour. He didn’t know but some of the men would come back, and so get between him and the bridge and cut him off, and that was the reason he waited there in the fence-corner. While he waited there he talked, but it was not about anything connected with his recent misfortune.
“Do you boys happen to know anything about Dan Newman?” said he.
“Yes, sir, we know him,” replied Leon, with a smile. “And we know Cale, too.”
“Well, what sort of fellows are they?”
“It’s my opinion that they are all rebels,” said Leon, with emphasis. “The amount of it was that the old man expected to get some kind of a position, and when he didn’t get it he turned against us.”
“That’s just what I supposed,” said Mr. Dawson. “Robert, I heard all about you before I ever saw you to-night.”
“Who told you?” asked his son, in surprise.