“All I ask of you is to give me a chance,” returned Tom, indignantly. “Anything to keep from being made prisoner.”
The boys relapsed into silence again, and presently drew up before the gate which gave entrance into the door-yard. It was an old-fashioned gate, and was held in place by a wooden pin, which was thrust into an auger-hole. The horse Dawson rode showed that he was accustomed to that way of getting in, for he moved up close to the pin, so that his rider could pull it. The gate creaked loudly on its wooden hinges, whereupon they heard a little confusion in the house, the door opened, and by the aid of the light from the fireplace the boys saw a woman and two little children fill the door.
“Oh, Bo—”
One of the children was on the point of shouting out Dawson’s name, but quicker than a flash the mother’s hand covered his mouth. It was no place to speak a person’s name out loud.
“Sh—! Not a word out of you,” said Dawson, dismounting from his horse. “You will bring the rebels on me. That’s a little boy, but he is Union all over,” he added, turning to Leon. “Now you stay here and hold my horse, and I will go in and get things ready. I needn’t tell you to keep a good watch down the road. If you hear so much as a foot-step, I want to know it.”
“Now hold on a bit,” said Tom, dismounting and handing his reins to Leon to hold for him, “If you are going to leave us here in silence I must take care of my muel, else she will arouse the neighborhood. You hold her head, Leon, and I will look out for her tail.”
“Well, why don’t you take care of it, then?” asked Leon, when he saw Tom station himself in such a position that he could readily seize her tail in moments of emergency.
“Because she isn’t ready to bray yet,” said Tom. “Whenever she gets ready to let the people know she is here she will bob her tail up and down. Then I will be ready to take hold of it and keep it down. Oh, there’s a heap to be learned about muels the first thing you know.”
Dawson laughed—he couldn’t keep from laughing if he knew his mother was in danger—and went on into the house, the door of which was closed after him; so Leon didn’t hear much of that greeting. And he wouldn’t have learned much if he had heard it. His mother had lived in danger for the last year, and all she did was to kiss him and listen while he told of his capture.
“But I wanted to go,” said he, “and father and I promised each other that whoever got away first should go to Jones county, and the one that was left in the rebel ranks should come there as soon as he could. I got away first, and now I am come after you. Pack up everything you want and be ready to load it aboard the mule-team which I will bring here as soon as possible.”