The lad’s face was worn and thin and, by reason of long exposure, almost the colour of an Indian’s. “Four miles further to Charlottesville,” he said, and threw himself down beside the road as one exhausted. At the sound of a galloping horse he looked up with dull, sullen eyes, into which there came a flash of recognition and he cried, “Nat, old boy!” The horse stopped so quickly his rider narrowly escaped being unhorsed.
“What in thunder are you doing? er––shadder of old black Tom! is it you, Rodney Allison, or your ghost?”
“I feel like a ghost, Angus, and I don’t think I’m heavy enough to bother Nat if we ride double back to 142 town. How is mother and ’Omi? and how did you come by Nat? Is the place gone? I feared Denham had the colt.”
“Never heard that ghosts could ask questions or I’d sure think ye was one. Ride double? You bet ye can, an’ if thar ain’t horse enough, I’ll walk. Give us yer hand, thar, now I’ll answer the rest o’ yer questions. The folks are right smart but powerful anxious fer yer dad. Reckon they’d lost hope o’ seein’ you again.”
“Father was killed in the battle at Point Pleasant.”
“Yer father killed! An’ he thought you was dead. He was a good man, Rodney. Everybody’ll be mighty sorry to hear that,” and then, words failing, he said no more and in silence they arrived at the Allison home. Angus led the colt to the stable while Rodney entered the house.
Mam saw him first, and for a moment she was almost a white woman. His mother fainted and his little sister ran from him in terror. But why attempt to describe that which words fail to express? Tragedies were not uncommon in the frontier homes of that day in this new land, and wives and mothers were heroines, though the great outside world never was to learn their names and Fame could not record them.
Angus with true delicacy went to his home, but later in the day called, and the two boys had a long talk.
“You haven’t answered my questions, yet, Angus. I haven’t felt like talking business with mother. I find 143 poor old Thello sick and I don’t know as Mam will ever get over her scare at sight of me.”
“Thello’s bein’ sick was why I was exercisin’ the colt. I say, Rodney, old Denham mighty nigh owned the critter, and the place to boot. He’d got his thumb right on ’em when along come a feller as told him to take it off.”