"Rich! Dat ain't no name for't. He's got more money'n de Bank ob London, 'n I reckon he could buy out de State of Kaintuck. He's pow'ful rich, Mars'r."
"Is he a Secessionist?" asked Deck.
"Cun'l Hickman! Secesher! No, sar! He's de out-en-outenish Union man in Kaintuck," returned Cuffy, whose politics were not at all in doubt with his guests. "De Seceshers done raided his place fo' times; yesterday was de last time, 'n I reckon dem fellers dat wanted me to ferry 'em ober de riber in de night is de ones dat did it. I done seen 'em on de hill fo' dark. I done see lots o' men wid guns, and some on hossback dis mornin' strollin' 'long de riber an' ober de country."
"Which way did they come from, Cuffy?" inquired Deck.
"Most on 'em com 'd down de Harrison road, an' some on 'em was beat'n' across de farm."
"Have you heard of the great battle that was fought over by Logan's Cross Roads?" asked the sergeant.
"I don't hear ob no battle," replied the negro, opening his eyes wide enough to let them drop out of their sockets. "Gollywhimpers!" suddenly exclaimed Cuffy, turning his gaze towards the mansion on the hill, "dar comes de cun'l on a hoss!"
The lieutenant and the sergeant looked in the direction indicated by the ferryman, and saw a man riding down the hill at a breakneck speed. As he came nearer they saw that he was a person over sixty years of age, with long, flowing white hair, like one of the patriarchs of old. He wore a soft black hat, well back on his head. He looked behind him frequently, as though he expected something to transpire in that direction. As Cuffy said, his mansion had been raided several times, and he might have got used to such events.
"W'a—w'a—w'at's de matter, Cun'l Hickman?" shouted the ferryman, before the gentleman came within ten rods of him.
The rider did not check his speed till he reined in his horse in front of the negro and his guests. He looked at the two officers without giving any attention to Cuffy, and seemed to be astonished to find them there.