"What are you detaining this gentleman for?" he asked, in a clear, ringing voice; "we are not making war on citizens."
"Well; but, General, just see this circular," handing him one.
General Morgan took it, glanced over it, then with a shrug of his shoulders and a "pshaw!" dropped it to the ground, and rode on. The vidette followed him.
"Well; but, General, what must we do with the prisoner?"
"Do?" responded the General, "Do? Why, turn him loose. He is nothing but a little constable."
Up to the moment Roberta heard the circular read, her sympathies were all with Mr. Shanks, the poor man looked so terribly frightened. He had started out with his circulars, not knowing the Confederates were within a hundred miles; and he expected every moment to have a bullet put through his brain, or be swung up to the nearest limb. When she heard the circular read, the wind veered from another quarter altogether.
As the soldiers rode off, the released prisoner came swiftly towards Squire and the children.
"I wish you would let me empty these drotted things under them 'taters an' apples, thar," he said.
Roberta came forward before Squire could reply.
"No, indeed, you can't put those dreadful things in our wagon. No, indeed. I heard what you said about my Uncle Charlie, just the dearest and best man on this earth."