“No, I can’t. You will have to go to somebody else and get one. It is Government property that comes into my hands, and I am bound to take the best of care of it.”
“I’ll get even with you for this some way or another,” said Newman, starting to walk off.
“Newman,” said Mr. Sprague, sternly, “come back here.”
“Well, now, when I come back you just blow a horn to let me know it, will you?” replied Newman, still continuing on his way.
“If I ask you once more I shall put you under arrest,” said Mr. Sprague. “I am not in the habit of giving orders twice.”
While he was speaking there were certain other parties, who had arrived with a wagon, who happened to overhear the conversation that passed between Mr. Sprague and Newman. They dropped whatever they were about and came up to see about it, for one of the disputants had got so angry that he raised his voice a good deal above its natural key. One of them was Bud McCoy, the man who had threatened to burn Mr. Swayne’s house before he got out of it. He did not like Newman any too well, for he believed that the young man was more in favor of secessionists than he was of the Union men.
“Come back here, you scoundrel!” said Bud, shaking his fists in the other’s face.
“Oh, now, Bud, you haven’t anything to do with it,” said Newman, and he retraced his steps very slowly.
“Come faster than that,” said Bud, tucking up his shirt-sleeves. “I will show you that I have something to do with it.”
“I will tell my father what you are doing up here, and perhaps he will think we had better go back to Mobile,” said Newman.