“Yassuh. Marse Grey is sutn’ly up to some devilmint no which side he fightin’ fer. I got a gal oveh on the aige o’ de Grey plantation an’ she tel’ me dat Marse Dane Grey don’t wear dat white uniform all de time.”
“What’s that—what’s that?” asked Erskine.
“No, suh. She say he got an udder uniform, same as yose, an’ he keeps it at her uncle Sam’s cabin an’ she’s seed him go dar in white an’ come out in our uniform, an’ al’ays at night, Marse Erskine—al’ays at night.”
The negro cocked his ear suddenly:
“Take to de woods quick, Marse Erskine. Horses comin’ down the road.”
But the sound of coming hoof-beats had reached the woodsman’s ears some seconds before the black man heard them, and already Erskine had wheeled away. And Ephraim saw Firefly skim along the edge of a blackened meadow behind its hedge of low trees.
“Gawd!” said the black boy, and he stood watching the road. A band of white-coated troopers was coming in a cloud of dust, and at the head of them rode Dane Grey.
“Has Captain Erskine Dale been here?” he demanded.
Ephraim had his own reason for being on the good side of the questioner, and did not even hesitate.
“Yassuh—he jes’ lef’! Dar he goes now!” With a curse Grey wheeled his troopers. At that moment Firefly, with something like the waving flight of a bluebird, was leaping the meadow fence into the woods. The black boy looked after the troopers’ dust.