"I'll be shot if I haven't seen that calico before," said Ardmore; and he sat down on a boulder and drew out the stopper, while Cooke watched him with interest.
The bit of twine was indubitably the same that he had unwound before in his room at the Guilford House, and the cob parted in his fingers exactly as before. On a piece of brown paper that had been part of a tobacco wrapper was scrawled:
This ain't yore fight, Mr. Ardmore. Wher's the guvner of North Carolina?
"That's a new one on me," laughed Cooke. "You see, they know everything. Mind-reading isn't in it with them. They know who we are and what we have come for. What's the point about the governor?"
"Oh, the governor's all right," replied Ardmore carelessly. "He wouldn't bother his head about a little matter like this. The powers reserved to the states by the constitution give a governor plenty of work without acting as policeman of the jungle. That's the reason I said to Governor Dangerfield, 'Governor,' I said, 'don't worry about this Appleweight business. Time is heavy on my hands,' I said. 'You stay in Raleigh and uphold the dignity of your office, and I will take care of the trouble in Dilwell.' And you can't understand, Cooke, how his face brightened at my words. Being the brave man he is, you would naturally expect him to come down here in person and seize these scoundrels with his own hands. I had the hardest time of my life to get him to stay at home. It almost broke his heart not to come."
And as they retraced their steps to the caboose, it was Ardmore who led, stepping briskly along, and blithely swinging the jug.