"Your father and his friends killed some of my men," he said. "I ain't here now to argy with you about the rights an' wrongs of it, but I want to tell you that all the people of the mountains are up for the Union. With them from the lowlands that are the same way, we'll chase you rebels, Jeff Davis and all, clean into the Gulf of Mexico."
Harry deliberately turned his head away, and stared out of a window at the green of lawns and trees. Skelly filled him with abhorrence. He felt as if he were in the presence of a creeping panther, and he would have nothing more to say to him. Skelly looked at him for a few minutes longer, drew himself together in the manner of a savage wild beast about to spring, but relaxed the next moment, laughed softly, and strode out of the chamber.
"That's one of your men," said Harry. "I hope you're proud of him."
"All the mountain people are for us," replied Dick judicially, "and we can't help it if some of the rascals are on our side. You're likely to have men just as bad on yours. I heard about the attack he made upon Uncle George's house, but it was war, I suppose, and this which we have here in Frankfort is only an armed truce. You can't do anything."
"I suppose not. Do you know how long he has been here?"
"He arrived at Camp Dick Robinson only two or three days ago, and I suppose he has taken the first chance to come in and have a look at the capital."
"With the idea of looting it later on."
Dick laughed.
"Don't be bitter, Harry," he said. "It's going to be a fair fight."
"Well, I hope so, here in this little town as well as on the greater field of the country. Are you staying long in Frankfort, Dick?"