"We're not hunting; we're hunting deserters."
"Huntin' deserters!" echoed the man with a smile which broke into a chuckle of amusement as the thought worked its way into his brain. "Ain't you see' none?"
"No," said both boys in a breath, greatly pleased at his friendliness. "Do you know where any are?"
The man scratched his head, seeming to reflect.
"Well, 'pears to me I hearn tell o' some, 'roun' to'des that-a-ways," making a comprehensive sweep of his arm in the direction just opposite to that which the boys were taking. "I seen the conscrip'-guard a little while ago pokin' 'roun' this-a-way; but Lor', that ain' the way to ketch deserters. I knows every foot o' groun' this-a-way, an' ef they was any deserters roun' here I'd be mighty apt to know it."
This announcement was an extinguisher to the boys' hopes. Clearly, they were going in the wrong direction.
"We are just going to eat our lunch," said Frank; "won't you join us?"
Willy added his invitation to his brother's, and their friend politely accepted, suggesting that they should walk back a little way and find a log. This all three did; and in a few minutes they were enjoying the lunch which the boys' mother had provided, while the stranger was telling the boys his views about deserters, which, to say the least, were very original.
"I seen the conscrip'-guard jes' this mornin', ridin' 'round whar they knowd they warn' no deserters, but ole womens and children," he said with his mouth full. "Whyn't they go whar they knows deserters is?" he asked.
"Where are they? We heard they had a cave down on the river, and we were going there," declared the boys.