“But all the same you have a pretty good idea who they were, and you don’t want to bring yourself into trouble by shielding them.”
“I am not trying to shield anybody,” answered Rodney.
“Do you think they were citizens who tried to kill us because they didn’t want us to find their cotton?” inquired the second man, who had not spoken before.
“If you had a fortune hidden out there in the woods, would you let anybody steal it from you if you could help it?” asked Rodney in reply. “I don’t think you would.”
“But we expect every day to get a permit to trade in cotton,” said the first speaker, “and that will give us license to take it wherever we can find it.”
“I reckon not,” said the boy hotly. “General Banks has a right to order his soldiers to take cotton or anything else for the benefit of his government or to cripple the Confederacy, but he has no shadow of a right to license stealing by civilians, and I don’t think he will do it. If he does, there will be some of the liveliest fighting around here he ever heard of.”
“If I thought those villains in there were citizens I’d——”
“You’d what?” said Rodney, when the man paused and looked at his companion. “Do you want to kick up another civil war right here in your own neighborhood? Both of you own property, and if you desire to save it you will take care what you do. If you will go into the house and sit down for an hour or two we may be back with news of your friends.”
“I’ll not do it,” replied the man, who had not yet recovered from his fright, “for there’s no telling how soon those ruffians may come this way. I will ride into Baton Rouge and send some soldiers out here.”
So saying he and his companion wheeled their horses and galloped away, and the two boys rode on toward the swamp.