"Say!" interrupted Ned suddenly. "Please don't let your big hounds come over the fence and eat up my pups. I need them to catch wild hogs with next winter."
That was very true, but it was not the reason Ned did not want the hounds to come inside the yard. He was afraid that some of them might go foraging on their own hook; and if they wandered around to the back door in search of something to eat, they could not help striking the trail the two escaped prisoners made when they entered the house. They would be sure to recognize it on the instant and give tongue, and then there would be trouble indeed; for Ben and the corporal would fight till they dropped before they would be recaptured. And then what would be done to him and his mother for feeding and trying to conceal them? But the hounds were thrashed and scolded back into the road and the officer continued:
"We will get the start of them to-morrow. If they are in this neighborhood they will stay here, for we are going to place ourselves between them and the river. But we were well fed and rested at a house three miles back, so we'll not alight, thank you. Are we on the road to Mooreville? That's what I called you out for."
"Keep straight ahead, and you can't miss it," said Ned. "And if you want to go toward the Mississippi, take the first right-hand road. But look out for the Yanks. I haven't seen any of their critter fellers, but there may be some between here and Baton Rouge."
"If we run on to them before we know it, it will be our fault, won't it? Good-night. Forward, trot, gallop!"
The young overseer, feeling as if a mountain had been removed from his shoulders, stood leaning on the bars until the sound of the horses' feet had died away in the distance, and then he settled himself into a comfortable position, drew a long breath, and waited fifteen minutes longer in order to make sure that the rebels had really gone on toward Mooreville. While he was waiting Cæsar came up, expecting to receive a good scolding, and perhaps something worse, for neglect of duty.
"Sho's you live, Marse Ned, I watch and wait wid all my eyes and ears, and dey slip along de road and up to de bars 'fore I knowed it," he said earnestly. "You know ole Cæsar aint going to sleep wid two Yankees in de house and rebels all around."
"That's all right. I was out of doors, and didn't know they were at the bars until they hailed. Now, stay right here and see that they don't steal a march on us. If you hear the slightest sound down the road Mooreville way, slip into the house and let me know it."
Ned went back to the bushes where he left the stockings and shoes, and when he carried them into the house he found no one there except his mother, who was plying her needle as if nothing had happened. The two fugitives had disappeared, and there was not a darkey to be seen.
"Open that door and you will find them," said Mrs. Griffin, when Ned stopped and looked all around. "They thought they would rather fight it out downstairs than in the garret, for they would have a better chance to run."