"So would I, if it had been shown in a good cause," said the Emergency man. "But that's altogether too much cheek for a traitor, and I don't see anything in it to admire. This son of his is more to be feared than the old man, for he has been off somewhere and got a military education; and the very first thing he did when he came home from school was to get up a company of Home Guards, and send word to Captain Lyon that if he wanted help all he had to do was to say so."
Mr. Westall proceeded to light his pipe, which he had previously filled, and during the operation he winked at Rodney and nodded as if to ask him what he thought of that. The latter felt a thrill ran through every nerve in him. He was glad to know that his old schoolmate was not wanting in courage, even if he did sympathize with the Yankee invaders, and we may add that this feeling was characteristic of the Barrington boys all through the war. If they heard, as they occasionally did, that some schoolfellow in the opposing ranks had done something that was thought to be worthy of praise, they felt an honest pride in it.
"I said that young Percival sent word to Captain Lyon that he was ready to help him, but that was not strictly correct," continued Mr. Westall, taking a few puffs at his pipe to make sure that it was well lighted. "He took word to him personally to be certain he got it, riding alone on horseback all the way from Springfield to St. Louis. What passed between him and Lyon we don't know yet, for he won't open his mouth; but we may find means to make him tell all we care to hear. When he got through with his business at St. Louis he didn't go directly home, and that is what got him into this difficulty. He came back by the way of Pilot Knob, where he has a Union uncle living; but that's where I and my friends live, too."
"And was it there he stole the horse?" asked Rodney.
"Well, between you and me and the gatepost, he never stole a horse," replied Mr. Westall slowly, as if he were reluctant to make the admission.
Rodney Gray crossed his legs, clasped his hands around one knee and settled back on his nail keg with an air that said, almost as plainly as words:
"I knew it all the time."
"No, he never stole a horse or anything else that we know of," repeated Mr. Westall. "But he rides a critter that is so near like one that was stolen from a Confederate by a Union man of the name of Morehouse a few days ago, that you could hardly tell them apart."
"And I don't much blame Morehouse for stealing that horse, either," said one of the Emergency men, who had not spoken before. "He had to get out of the country, he couldn't do it without a horse to carry him, and so he took the one that came first to his hand."
"I don't know as I blame him, either," assented Mr. Westall. "But I do blame him for holding the opinions he does."