XIX
D'ri and I left the chateau that afternoon, putting up in the red tavern at Morristown about dusk.
My companion rode away proudly, the medal dangling at his waistcoat lapel.
"Jerushy Jane!" said he, presently, as he pulled rein. "Ain't a-goin' t' hev thet floppin' there so—meks me feel luk a bird. Don't seem nohow nat'ral. Wha' d' ye s'pose he gin me thet air thing fer?"
He was putting it away carefully in his wallet.
"As a token of respect for your bravery," said I.
His laughter roared in the still woods, making my horse lift and snort a little. It was never an easy job to break any horse to D'ri's laughter.
"It's reedic'lous," said he, thoughtfully, in a moment.
"Why?"
"'Cause fer the reason why they don't no man deserve nuthin' fer doin' what he 'd orter," he answered, with a serious and determined look.