The question “Who is it?” which our fellows all asked at once, did not remain long unanswered. The sound of the hoofs grew louder and louder, and presently a horseman emerged from the bushes, and came toward them at a rapid gallop.
He was gazing earnestly toward the opposite bank of the bayou, and the first intimation he had of the presence of our fellows was the chorus of ejaculations they uttered the instant their eyes rested on him. Then he pulled up his horse with a jerk, and gazed at them with a countenance indicative of intense surprise and alarm.
One glance showed our fellows three things—that the man was Luke Redman, that he was mounted on Black Bess, and that he carried General Mason’s valise strapped on behind his saddle.
The meeting was so unexpected to both parties, that for a moment no one moved or spoke. The robber sat on his horse—my horse, rather—gazing at our fellows in stupid bewilderment, and our fellows looked at him as if they could not quite make up their minds whether their eyes were deceiving them or not.
Duke was the first to recover the use of his tongue.
“Well,” said he, “this is the luckiest thing that has happened to us for many a day. We are glad to see you, Luke Redman. We’ll trouble you to dismount, and give up that horse and valise.”
These words seemed to bring the robber to his senses. He raised a short, heavy gun, which he carried across the horn of his saddle, and cocking both barrels, growled out:
“I’ll trouble you to mind your own business. If ary one on you moves a hand or foot until I am acrost this yere bayou, I’ll send a charge of buckshot among you.”
This warning was uttered in a very savage tone of voice, and there was a wicked gleam in the robber’s eyes which was enough to convince our fellows that he meant all he said.
Duke slowly lowered the horn, which he had been on the point of raising to his lips; and Herbert’s hand, which was stretched out toward his gun, that stood leaning against a tree close by, fell to his side.