“Well, you tell a pretty straight story, and I shall have to put some faith in it until I can prove the contrary,” said Mr. Sprague.
“You are at liberty to disprove my story in any way you can,” said the rebel, earnestly. “I am dead shot on this thing, and if this county is going to stay out of the Confederacy I am going to stay out, too.”
“I shall have to send you to my house,” said Mr. Sprague.
“Send me anywhere, sah, but stop and explain to my family why I don’t come home. She will appreciate the reason, for she is a soldier’s wife.”
“Father, come here a minute. I don’t see what’s the use of sending that rebel to our house,” said Leon, when his father had drawn off on one side. “He must have a camp down there in Ellisville, and, now he has given up his weapons, I don’t see how he is going to get away. There are fully five hundred men camped around Ellisville now.”
“Well, that is so,” said Mr. Sprague, after reflecting a moment. “I think I had better take him on to Ellisville and leave him there, with plenty of men to watch him.”
“That would be my way, certainly.”
“Forward, march!” shouted Mr. Sprague, as he placed himself at the head of his little train, and the cavalcade once more moved onward. The rebel kept close at his side, and Leon rode a little ways behind him. There was one thing that drew the boy’s attention, and that was the rebel’s horse. Although she was tired, her gait showed that she fretted and fumed at the bit as if she was anxious to go faster. She was a beautiful animal, with limbs so small that they did not look strong enough to support her weight.
“May I ask you where you got that horse?” said Leon, after he had watched her for some length of time.
“I stole her from the wagon-master,” said the rebel. “I should not have been able to get home if it hadn’t been for her. I did the rebels all the damage I could before leaving them.”