"I mean the war right around here," answered Mark. "It's got into the Newbern papers, and they are giving us fits on account of it. They say it serves us just right."
"What does?"
"Why, having our houses burned and—and all that."
"Do they say anything about robbery?" asked Marcy. "Or about threatening to pull a law-abiding boy up by the neck because he does not happen to have a pocketful of money with him?"
"No," replied Mark, rather indignantly; and then, seeing by the curious smile on Marcy's face that he had spoken too quickly, he added, "I suppose of course that they do say something about that outrage, but I can't tell for certain, for I have only had time to read what my papers say concerning the burning of Beardsley's house and Shelby's."
"Probably they don't refer to the way those four villains conducted themselves in my mother's house," said Marcy, in a tone of contempt. "It's altogether too insignificant a thing to have travelled as far as the city of Newbern."
"It isn't, either!" exclaimed Tom Allison, glaring savagely at Marcy. "Nothing is too insignificant to attract attention these times. My paper says—but there it is. Read it for yourself."
"Thank you; I can't stop," answered Marcy, moving toward the office.
"I'll get my own, and read it on the way home."
Contrary to his expectations he did not find a very belligerent crowd in there. The space between the counters was filled with men, and they were all talking at once; but they had learned wisdom by past experience, and however much they might have desired to threaten somebody, they were careful not to do it. They denounced Yankees and their sympathizers in a general way, and declared that it was a cowardly piece of business to burn houses while their owners were absent, but they did not mention any names. Marcy loitered about until he found that he was not going to hear anything more than he had heard a score of times before, and then mounted his horse and set out for home. Dropping the reins upon his filly's neck and allowing her to choose her own gait, he drew his Newbern paper from his pocket, and began looking for the article of which Mark Goodwin had spoken. He could not run amiss of it, for the black headlines were too prominent. They took up more than half the column, and after Marcy had run his eye over a few of the leading ones, he had a very good idea of the article itself. He read: "A Reign of Terror.—Civil War Inaugurated in a Sovereign State. —Cowardly Citizens Who Allow a Handful of Traitors to Work their Sweet Will of Them.—Armed and Masked Incendiaries Abroad at Night."
"There now!" exclaimed Marcy, when he read the last line. "That is as good proof as I want that the man who wrote this knew the whole story. Mother and I were the only white persons who saw those men, and nobody would have known that they were armed and masked if I hadn't said so. I'll bet you the paper doesn't say a word concerning the 'cowardly citizen' who sent those robbers to our house."