“It's the thing to do.”
They rode a little further into the woods where they were safe from observation, and yet could watch what was passing at the house. But they did not have to wait long. The troopers evidently got little satisfaction from the woman to whom they were talking and turned their horses. Harry saw her disappear inside, and he fairly heard the door slam when it closed. The men galloped southward down the road.
Harry heard a chuckle beside him and he turned in astonishment.
“I'm laughing,” said Dalton, “because I've got a right to laugh. Here in the valley we are all kin to one another just as you people in Kentucky are all related. The woman who stood in the doorway is Cousin Eliza Pomeroy. She's about my seventh cousin, but she's my cousin just the same, and if we could have heard it we would have enjoyed what she was saying to those Yankees.”
“Oughtn't we to stop also and get news, if we can?”
“Of course. We must have a talk with Cousin Eliza.”
They emerged from the woods, opened the gate and rode upon the lawn. Not a ray of light came from the house anywhere. Every door and shutter was fast.
“Knock on the door with the hilt of your sword, Harry,” said Dalton. “It will bring Cousin Eliza. She can't have gone to sleep yet.”
Harry dismounted and holding the reins of his horse over his arm, knocked loudly. There was no reply.
“Beat harder, Harry. She's sure to hear.”