He’s ole ’nough, big ’nough, an’ oughter knowed better
Dan to went an’ run away,”
sang the stranger in a melodious tenor voice. “Hallo, Johnny!”
“Hallo, yourself,” replied Rodney. He was so astonished at this strange greeting that he did not know what else to say. He gazed earnestly at the singer, but there was no smile of recognition under the blond mustache, though the blue eyes twinkled merrily. Then he looked toward his father for an explanation, but that gentleman, who had by this time dismounted, stood with his folded arms resting on his mule’s back, and had not a word of explanation to offer.
“You are a very nice-looking rebel, I must say,” were the visitor’s next words.
“I am aware of it,” returned Rodney; “but they are the best I’ve got to my back.”
“I was speaking of you and not of your clothes,” said the stranger hastily. “My good mother away up in North Carolina long ago taught me——”
“Jack! O Jack!” shouted Rodney joyfully. With one jump he reached his cousin’s side, and seizing his outstretched hand in both his own, fairly dragged him to the ground.
“Easy, easy!” cautioned Mr. Gray. “That’s Jack, but he isn’t quite as sound as he was the last time you met him.”
“I am overjoyed to see you after so long a separation,” said Rodney, in some degree moderating the energy of his hand-shaking. “How did you leave Marcy and his mother? and has Marcy always been true to his colors, as he so often declared he would be, no matter what happened? How came you here when nobody dreamed of seeing you, and where have you been to get hurt?”