lling for
me to try and find out! You set down there! That's it; right there where
I can see you! My grandmother's birthday mug! Yes, and she saw her
mother kill an Indian right here, right where the old log cabin used to
stand! Well, I reckon I can manage a dirty, sneaking hound like you.
Grandmother's cup indeed, that I don't even let James drink out of! I'll
have to scrub it with brick dust to get your finger marks off--"

"Won't you please put that gun down, ma'am, and listen to reason?"

"I'm listening to something else. There's three or four horses coming
down the road--"

"Please put that gun down, ma'am. I'll say good-bye and go just as
peaceable--"

"And whether they're blue or grey I hope to God they'll take you off my
hands! There! They've turned up the lane. They're coming by the house!"

She raised a strong young voice. "Help! Help! Stop, please! O soldiers!
Soldiers! Help! Soldiers! There! I've made them hear and waked the
baby!"

"Won't you let me go, ma'am? I didn't mean no harm."

"No more did the Indian great-grandmother killed when he broke in the
door! You're a coward and a deserter, and the South don't need you! Bye,
bye, baby--bye, bye!"

A hand tried the door. "What's the matter here? Open!"

"It's locked, sir. Come round to the window--Bye, baby, bye!"

The dismounted cavalryman--an officer--appeared outside the open
window. His eyes rested a moment upon the interior; then he put hands
upon the sill and swung himself up and into the room.

"What's all this? Has this soldier annoyed you, madam?"

The girl set down the musket and took up the baby. "I'm downright glad
somebody came, sir. He's a coward and a deserter and a drunkard and a
frightener of women! He says he's had pneumonia, and I don't believe
him. If I was the South I'd send every man like him right across Mason
and Dixon as fast as they'd take them!--I reckon he's my prisoner, sir,
and I give him up to you."

The officer smiled. "I'm not the provost, but I'll rid you of him
somehow." He wiped the dust from his face. "Have you anything at all
that we could eat? My men and I have had nothing since midnight."

"That coward's eaten all I had, sir. I'm sorry--If you could wait a
little, I've some flour and I'll make a pan of biscuits--"

"No. We cannot wait. We must be up with the army before it strikes the
Valley pike."

"I've got some cold potatoes, and some scraps of bread crust I was
saving for the chickens--"

"The