The men stopped and wheeled round to face their commander.
“Soldiers,” he said, “you know why I’m taking this boy. I considered his conduct treasonable in not disclosing his father’s hiding-place. But I find that in reality he is just as loyal as any one of us, except that he knows his father’s secret and refuses to give it away. Now what shall we do with him?”
They had reached a point in front of the dwelling-house of Sarah Jane Stark. The men looked in on the smooth green lawn, and then away to the eastern hill range. But before they had made up their minds how to reply to the officer’s question, a woman, coming down the walk from the house, reached the gate where they were standing. It was Sarah Jane Stark herself.
“What’s all this about?” she inquired. “Bob Bannister, what are you doing here with these soldiers?”
“I’ve been arrested, Miss Stark,” replied Bob modestly.
“You? Arrested? Fudge! What does the boy mean?” turning to the officer.
“It means, madam,” replied the sergeant courteously but firmly, “that this boy knows the whereabouts of Rhett Bannister, whom we have orders to arrest, and will not disclose them. We are taking him to the provost-marshal.”
“What for?”