There was something, even in this remark, of reticence, as though there were other ties that bound him of which he was inclined to make no mention.
Soon after the declaration of war, a horse trader accompanied by Bill Jenkins, and another man, came to the Stark farm to bargain for horses. The prices they were willing to pay seemed large, and uncle sold one of our extra horses. Then Bill said, “Why don’t you sell the colt, Jack? He won’t be good for much for quite a while, an’ I guess you’ll need the money before long on this place.”
I did not like the freedom of Bill’s remark and neither did I wish the colt sold. “Well,” said the trader, “it will be no harm to look him over.” So we went down to the pasture where Jack had been let loose for his spring feed.
Our colt was now full grown and broken to saddle, but not to harness. Muddy, the dog, and Jack were great friends. The dog slept in the same stall with the colt and they often frolicked together in the pasture. When we reached the pasture the colt and dog were on a frolic—the colt jumping and wheeling and prancing, while Muddy jumped, barked and capered in front of him.
Turning to my uncle the trader said: “I will give you two hundred dollars for that colt. He isn’t worth it; but I know just where I can sell him.”
My uncle refused to sell, and the man handing uncle his business card, said: “Well, when you get ready to sell, let me know.”
After he had started away I turned to speak to Jot, but found he had disappeared. Later I came upon him behind the barn talking to the man who had accompanied the horse trader, and I overheard him using some words strange to me—seemingly in some foreign language—at any rate not common English. As I came upon them they parted, and when I asked Jot what they were talking about he made no definite reply, but said, “I am so glad they didn’t sell Jack.”
His evasion made me angry, and I turned away to go to the house. Jot called after me, but I refused to speak or turn back; and that night we went to bed without a good-night greeting as was usual with us.
The first thing, after I awoke, I went to Jot’s room, but he was gone. Then I went down to breakfast, expecting to find him at the table; but he was not there.
“Where is Jot?” I asked Uncle Jim.