“If he did, where is he? It’s open ground round here; and he couldn’t have gone ten rods before we missed him.”
“The captain will give it to me,” replied the other, whose voice the fugitive recognized to be that of the sergeant.
“We shall find him,” added the other. “He can’t be twenty rods from here now.”
“I did not think of the young fellow running off, but kept both eyes on the other all the time; for I thought he wasn’t telling all those stories for nothing.”
“Maybe he is in the house,” suggested the other.
Somers thought that was a very bad suggestion of the rebel soldier; and, if there had been any hope of their believing him, he would himself have informed them that he was not in the house, and reconciled his conscience as best he could to the falsehood.
“Can’t yer find ’em?” demanded a third person, which Somers saw, through the aperture he had left between the board and the window, was the farmer.
“We haven’t lost but one.”
“He can’t be fur from this yere.”
“Isn’t he in the house?” demanded the sergeant anxiously.