“They took the route towards Ninety-Six, you said, Mistress Ramsay?”
“Yes,—they went straight forward upon the road. But, look you, Mr. Horse-Shoe, you’re not thinking of going after them?”
“Isn’t there an old field, about a mile from this, on that road?” inquired the sergeant, still intent upon his own thoughts.
“There is,” replied the dame; “with the old school-house upon it.”
“A lop-sided, rickety log-cabin in the middle of the field. Am I right, good woman?”
“Yes.”
“And nobody lives in it? It has no door to it?”
“There ha’n’t been anybody in it these seven years.”
“I know the place very well,” said the sergeant, very thoughtfully; “there is woods just on this side of it.”
“That’s true,” replied the dame; “but what is it you are thinking about, Mr. Robinson?”