Part 13 (2/2)
While this conversation was going on Rodney had leisure to recover his composure, and was not a little relieved to see that there were no side-long glances cast toward himself. Mr. Westall seemed to think that he alone was to blame for the prisoner's escape, his four companions were quite willing that he should shoulder the responsibility, and no one thought of suspecting Rodney Gray.
”I am short a good horse by last night's work, and suppose I shall have to take Percival's to replace him, won't I?” said the latter. ”It's that or go afoot, isn't it?”
”I suppose it is,” replied the Emergency man.
”What sort of an animal is he and where is he?” continued Rodney. ”I should like to have a look at him.”
”He's out in the yard with the rest of the critters,” said Nels. ”I thought it best to keep yours in the shed because, being a stranger, the others might have fell to kicking him if they had all been turned in together.”
”You did perfectly right,” answered Rodney, who thought the man was trying to excuse himself for having put the roan colt where he could be so easily stolen. ”And that's the reason Tom took him,” he added, mentally. ”If he had gone into the yard after his own nag, the others would have snorted and raised a fuss, and that would have started the dogs and prevented his escape. It's all right, but I would rather have my horse than that one.”
The steed that was pointed out to him as the property of the escaped prisoner was a fine looking animal, and the fact that he had led his pursuers so long a chase, proved that he was not only a ”goer” but a ”stayer” as well; but for all that Rodney wished his friend Tom had thought it safe to take him and leave the roan colt.
”I have very serious objections to riding that horse through the counties back of here,” said he at length. ”He is too well known; and how do I know but that somebody will bounce me for a horse-thief?”
”That's a most disagreeable fact,” said Mr. Westall, reflectively. ”We gave a description of him to every man and boy we met along the road.”
”That is just what I was afraid of. Can't you give me a trade for him?”
”I don't see how we can, for if we should take the horse back to the settlement with us, the folks there would be sure to ask how we came to get him without getting the thief, too; see?”
”Well, could you give me a bill of sale of him?” asked the boy, after thinking a moment.
”When I don't own a dollar's worth of interest in him?” exclaimed the Emergency man, opening his eyes. ”Not much I couldn't. I tell you, young fellow, a horse is a mighty ticklish piece of property to have in these parts unless you can prove a clear claim to him.”
”I want some sort of a paper to show to our friends along the road, don't I?” exclaimed Rodney, who began to think that his chances for seeing Price's army were getting smaller all the time.
”Oh, that's what you want, is it?” said Mr. Westall. ”Well, I'll tell you what we'll do: You ride with us as far as the road where we turn off to go to Pilot k.n.o.b, and then I will give you a letter that will help you if you happen to fall in with any of our side; but you must be careful to know the men before you show the letter to them, for if you should pull it on a Union man, you would get yourself into trouble. Now let's get a bite to eat and start for home.”
This made it evident that the Emergency man had become discouraged with his ill-luck, and did not intend to follow Tom Percival any farther.
CHAPTER IX.
ON THE ROAD.
The breakfast which Nels and his a.s.sistant placed upon the table in due time was eaten almost in silence, for those who sat down to it had so much thinking to do that they had no time for conversation. When Rodney Gray had satisfied his appet.i.te he opened his trunk and took from it a pair of saddle-bags, which he proceeded to fill with a variety of useful articles. His thoughtful mother had packed the trunk as full as it could hold, and Rodney could not take a quarter of the things with him. He knew he couldn't when he started; but the trunk was necessary to aid him in the game of deception he played upon the Baton Rouge telegraph operators. By taking it aboard the Mollie Able, together with a liberal supply of hay and grain for his horse, he led them to believe that he was really going on to St. Louis. After filling the saddle-bags, he rolled his blankets into a compact bundle so that he could strap them behind him on his horse.
”I have left a good many things in there that I can't take with me,” said he, as he locked the trunk and handed the key to Jeff. ”And if I don't come back and claim them within a reasonable time, you are at liberty to take them for your own. How much damage have I done your commissary department since I have been here?”
”How much damage have you done which?” exclaimed Jeff.
”How much do you want for the fodder I and my horse and that Yankee's horse have eaten?” repeated Rodney.
”Oh; why didn't you say so? You and your horse are as welcome as the flowers in May; and as for that thief's critter, I wouldn't let you pay a cent for him any way. But I'm sorry you aint got your own boss to ride to Springfield.”
”So am I. Mine is the better horse, and besides I don't at all like the idea of having every man I meet take me for a thief. Have you a revolver you would be willing to sell at your own price?”
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