erking him angrily
around. "If you don't show us pretty quick where those horses are,
we'll put a bullet or two into you. March off there!"

He was backed by a half-a-dozen more, but the pistol, which was at old
Balla's head, was his most efficient ally.

"Hi! Marster, don't pint dat thing at me that way. I ain't ready to
die yit--an' I ain' like dem things, no-ways," protested Balla.

There is no telling how much further his courage could have withstood
their threats, for the boys' mother made her appearance. She was about
to bid Balla show where the horses were, when a party rode into the
yard leading them.

"Hi! there are Bill and John, now," exclaimed the boys, recognizing
the black carriage-horses which were being led along.

"Well, ef dee ain't got 'em, sho' 'nough!" exclaimed the old driver,
forgetting his fear of the cocked pistols.

"Gentlemen, marsters, don't teck my horses, ef you _please_," he
pleaded, pushing through the group that surrounded him, and
approaching the man who led the horses.

They only laughed at him.

[Illustration: "GENTLEMEN, MARSTERS, DON'T TECK MY HORSES, EF YOU
PLEASE," SAID UNCLE BALLA.]

Both the boys ran to their mother, and flinging their arms about her,
burst out crying.

In a few minutes the men started off, riding across the fields; and in
a little while not a soldier was in sight.

"I wish Marse William could see you ridin' 'cross them fields," said
Balla, looking after the retiring troop in futile indignation.

Investigation revealed the fact that every horse and mule on the
plantation had been carried off, except only two or three old mules,
which were evidently considered not worth taking.

CHAPTER X.

After this, times were very hard on the plantation. But the boys'
mother struggled to provide as best she could for the family and
hands. She used to ride all over the county to secure the supplies
which were necessary for their support; one of the boys usually being
her escort and riding behind her on one of the old mules that the
raiders had left. In this way the boys became acquainted with the
roads of the county and even with all the bridle-paths in the
neighborhood of their home. Many of these were dim enough too, running
through stretches of pine forest, across old fields which were little
better than jungle, along gullies, up ditches, and through woods mile
after mile. They were generally useful only to a race, such as the
negroes, which had a