“All of which is very specific,” growled Dick as he threw himself under a tree and declared a halt. “I wonder if any of them ever saw the river in their lives.”
“I don’t believe that they have,” said Jeanne. “I found out in New Orleans that these people that they call ‘poor whites’ are very ignorant. But we’ll reach it some way, Dick.”
“Yes; I begin to think that we will,” said Dick complacently. “I wish that I had a Confederate uniform though. These clothes are rather conspicuous.”
“Dick,” cried Jeanne in horrified tones, “you would not wear that uniform for a minute, would you?”
“Wouldn’t I?” chuckled Dick. “I wish I had a chance to try. Then we would not have to skulk along this way but would go boldly to the nearest town and board a train, and there we’d be!”
“I would not wear one,” declared Jeanne.
“It wouldn’t change my principles,” said Dick. “The clothes don’t make the man only in the eyes of other people, and that is what we want now. I would be just as true a Unionist as I am now, and it would be much safer for us both. A uniform and a gun are just what I need. I am going to get them!”
He rose determinedly as he spoke and helped Jeanne on the horse.
“Get on too, Dick,” she pleaded. “You have walked all the time and your shoes are in tatters. Please get up too.”
To please her Dick climbed up before her, and they started off at a brisk pace. Suddenly from a bend in the road before them a body of rebel cavalry cantered into view. Jeanne tittered a cry of alarm but Dick setting his teeth made a quick dash into the woods.