Deck and Artie accompanied the prisoners to the county seat, and on returning to Riverlawn in the afternoon an hour's call was made at Lyndhall—a space of time all too short for the major, for Kate Belthorpe wished to know all about the affair at the mansion, and he was impatient to ask her about herself. Artie, knowing a thing or two or imagining he did, very considerately drew Margie Belthorpe to listen to what he might have to relate, so the affectionate pair were left alone part of the time, something which Deck very much appreciated, and to which pretty Kate did not at all object. The girl shuddered when he was forced to admit that he had been scratched on the neck by a bullet, and flinging her arms about his shoulders begged him to be more prudent in the future, and this he promised—for her sake, as he said in a whisper, and the compact was sealed with a kiss which if not exactly brotherly or sisterly was fully as affectionate.
"I suppose you proposed, didn't you?" said Artie, when he and Deck were galloping home. "I gave you the best chance in the world."
"I—I—don't be foolish, Artie," returned the young major, and blushed. "No," he went on, after a pause, "I didn't—but—I reckon it's all right—at least I hope it is;" and Artie clapped him on the back heartily and said he was positive it was all right, and they shook hands. After that the cousins were more brotherly than ever before.
CHAPTER VII
IN WHICH THE ENEMY'S SUPPLIES ARE CONFISCATED
"Deck, what is that glittering over there?" cried Artie, as they were crossing the creek bridge. "I declare, it's one of mother's spoons!"
"You're right, Artie," answered the major, leaping to the ground. "And here is another. That rascal I wounded must have thrown them away after I left him on the bridge bench."
Artie dismounted also, and the pair began a rigorous search for the balance of the missing silverware. Four additional spoons were brought to light, all having lain within a distance of two yards of each other.