“There is but one, young man, and you rebels can’t break it up, try as hard as you will.”
It made Rodney angry to hear Mr. Biglin talk in this strain, but before he could frame a suitable rejoinder the planter switched him off on another track by inquiring:
“Now, how are we to get to the city?”
“I am sure I don’t know unless you walk,” answered Rodney.
“Can’t you raise five saddle nags on your place?”
“No, sir. And if I could, I wouldn’t let them go inside the Yankee lines. I’d never see them again.”
“I give you my word that I will take the best of care of them.”
“You couldn’t take any sort of care of them. In less than five minutes after you reached the city my horses would be gone, and when you found them again, if you ever did, they would have some company’s brand on them. I know what I am talking about, for I have been a cavalryman myself. I have known regiments in the same brigade to steal from one another.”
“In that case wouldn’t the brand show where the horse belonged?”
“It might if it was let alone, but it is easy to change it. I stole a horse from company I once, and when he was found in my possession a week or two afterward, there was my company letter D on his flank as plain as the nose on your face.”