Zeb himself did not appear in their company. Only once had he been seen conferring with them. After that he was gone—both from the guard-house and the settlement, as everybody supposed, about his ordinary business—in search of deer, “baar,” or “gobbler.”
Everybody was in error. Zeb for the time had forsaken his usual pursuits, or, at all events, the game he was accustomed to chase, capture, and kill.
It is true he was out upon a stalking expedition; but instead of birds or beasts, he was after an animal of neither sort; one that could not be classed with creatures either of the earth or the air—a horseman without a head!
Chapter Eighty Four.
An Affectionate Nephew.
“Tried to-morrow—to-morrow, thank God! Not likely that anybody ’ll catch that cursed thing before then—to be hoped, never.
“It is all I’ve got to fear. I defy them to tell what’s happened without that. Hang me if I know myself! Enough only to—.
“Queer, the coming of this Irish pettifogger!