“Danny Lemmons tol’ ’er.”
“By George!” exclaimed Chadwick, “the woods is full of Danny Lemmons.”
“Why, bless your heart,” said Spurlock, “he thes swarms roun’ here.”
After Spurlock had taken the precaution to possess himself of Chadwick’s arms and ammunition, he cut the cords that bound his prisoner’s hands, and the two went down the mountain, chatting as pleasantly and as sociably as two boon companions. Chadwick found no lack of hospitality at Uncle Billy Powers’s house. His return was taken as a matter of course, and he was made welcome. Nevertheless, his entertainers betrayed a spirit of levity that might have irritated a person less self-contained.
“I see he’s ketched you, Iserl,” remarked Uncle Billy, with a twinkle in his eye. “He ’lowed las’ night as how he’d fetch you back wi’ him.”
“Yes,” said Israel, “he thes crope up on me. It’s mighty hard for to fool these army fellers.”
Then and afterward the whole family pretended to regard Spurlock as Chadwick’s prisoner. This was not a joke for the latter to relish, but it was evidently not intended to be offensive, and he could do no less than humor it. He accepted the situation philosophically. He even prepared himself to relish Captain Moseley’s astonishment when he returned and discovered the true state of affairs. As the day wore away it occurred to Chadwick that the captain was in no hurry to return. Even Uncle Billy Powers grew uneasy.
“Now, I do hope an’ trust he ain’t gone an’ lost his temper up thar in the woods,” remarked Uncle Billy. “I hope it from the bottom of my heart. These here wars an’ rumors of wars makes the folks mighty restless. They’ll take resks now what they wouldn’t dassent to of tuck before this here rippit begun, an’ it’s done got so now human life ain’t wuth shucks. The boys up here ain’t no better ’n the rest. They fly to pieces quicker ’n they ever did.”
No trouble, however, had come to Captain Moseley. Though he was confused in his bearings, he was as serene and as unruffled as when training a company of raw conscripts in the art of war. After an unsuccessful attempt to find the road he gave his horse the rein, and that sensible animal, his instinct sharpened by remembrance of Uncle Billy Powers’s corn-crib and fodder, moved about at random until he found that he was really at liberty to go where he pleased, and then he turned short about, struck a little canter, and was soon going down the road by which he had come. The captain was as proud of this feat as if it were due to his own intelligence, and he patted the horse’s neck in an approving way.