“You are quite at liberty to tell what you know about me and my record during this war,” observed Mr. Biglin, as he swung himself upon his horse and turned the animal’s head toward the bars, “and you may have to tell it, whether you want to or not.”
With this parting shot, which he hoped would leave Rodney in a very uncomfortable frame of mind, Mr. Biglin rode away, followed by his friends, and passing through the bars turned up the road leading toward the swamp in which Mr. Gray’s cotton was concealed. No sooner had they disappeared than Ned Griffin, who was always on the watch and knew when Rodney had visitors he did not want to see, threw down the bars and rode into the yard.
CHAPTER V.
THE COTTON THIEVES.
“Who are those men, and what did they want?” inquired Ned, as he got off his horse at the foot of the steps. “Are they cotton traders?”
“I wish I hadn’t gone at them quite so rough,” replied Rodney. “You know what a red-hot rebel Biglin has always been, don’t you?”
“I should say so. If he could have his way he’d hang every Union man in the country.”
“Well, he had the impudence to declare in my presence, not more than five minutes ago, that he’d always been strong for the Union and dead against secession, and it made me so indignant that I said things which drove him away before he had time to make his business known. But he told me he had questioned my father about cotton and got no satisfaction.”
“And did he think you would give it to him when your father would not?” demanded Ned.
“He and his friends seemed to think so, but I gave them to understand—Great Scott!”
“Hallo! What’s come over you all on a sudden?” exclaimed Ned, as Rodney jumped to his feet and gazed anxiously up the road in the direction in which Mr. Biglin and his party had just disappeared.