“‘Sorry, daughter, but it must be so,’ returned her father in a grieved voice. ‘You will find many changes here since the fightin’ began.’
“‘Selina, I’m awful sorry you have to ride this way, and I can’t understand why it is. Father seems to know,’ said Becky, in an apologetic tone.
“‘I don’t mind, Becky. Really and truly, I don’t. I love the country so, that I would just as soon ride a plow if we had to, to get to your home.’
“‘Well, I’m glad your little friend is so sensible, Rebecca,’ commended Mr. Crudup.
“We climbed into the back seat after the baggage had been stowed away, and the horses started off.
“‘Father, why didn’t you drive Jerry and Jim?’ asked Rebecca, wonderingly.
“‘Becky, your brothers, I trust, are astride them, showin’ the Yankees how to fight!’
“‘Daddy!’ cried Rebecca in dismay.
“Mr. Crudup looked dreadfully sorry, but said nothing.
“‘Daddy, have Newell and Ed left home?’