"Dey was ober on de ole road, mars'r, I t'ought."
But Deck did not stop to give them any information, for both wagons had stopped near the party. The driver from Rock Lodge had run away as soon as his vehicle was beset by the ruffians; yet he could tell his portion of the story, while those from Riverlawn could relate the rest of it. The hero went into the mansion, and a mulatto in a white jacket, who was gaping with all his might, showed him to the sitting-room, where he found the wagon party. There was no Mrs. Belthorpe, for she had passed away years before.
"I was afraid you had run away and left us, Mr. Lyon," said Miss Kate, rushing up to him as he entered.
"Please don't 'mister' me," replied Deck, laughing. "It makes me feel just as though I was a dude."
"Well, you are not a dude," added the fair daughter of the planter, as indignantly as though some person besides herself had called him by the opprobrious name.
"And I don't run away, either."
"That's so!" exclaimed Major Gadbury with decided emphasis. "But I really wonder that you did not run away instead of pitching into that scoundrel who was carrying off Miss Kate."
"I couldn't have done that if I had tried while the lady seemed to be in such a dangerous situation," answered Deck, as he seated himself as near Miss Kate as he could find a place. "But I have been talking myself all the time since we started from the cross-cut, and I don't know yet how you happened to get into this scrape."
"We don't know much more about it than you do, Mr.——"
"Deck," interposed the hero.