“But not younger than many who have gone to the war,” replied Dick. “In fact, you see many who are not older than fifteen or sixteen.”
He had spoken hastily and incautiously and he realized it at once. The man's keen gaze was turned upon him again.
“You've seen the armies, then?” he said. “Mebbe you're a sojer yourself?”
“I've been in the mountains, looking after some land that belongs to my family,” said Dick. “My name is Mason, Richard Mason, and I live near Pendleton, which is something like a hundred miles from here.”
He deemed it best to give his right name, as it would have no significance there.
“You must have seen armies,” persisted the man, “or you wouldn't hev knowed 'bout so many boys of fifteen or sixteen bein' in them.”
“I saw both the Federal and Confederate armies in Eastern Kentucky. My business took me near them, but I was always glad to get away from them, too.”
“I heard tell today that there was a big battle.”
“You heard right. It was fought near a little place called Mill Spring, and resulted in a complete victory for the Northern forces under General Thomas.”
“That was what I heard. It will be good news to some, an' bad news to others. 'Pears to me, Mr. Mason, that you can't fight a battle that will suit everybody.”