st.

CHAPTER XII.

TWICE SURPRISED.

During the whole of their journey through the woods, which did not come
to an end until long after four o'clock that afternoon, the negro guide
never once spoke to the boys unless he was first spoken to, nor did they
see any living' thing except a drove of half-wild hogs, which fled
precipitately at their approach. The plantation darkies, as a general
thing, were talkative and full of life, and this unwonted silence on the
part of their conductor finally produced an effect upon Tom Percival
who, when the noon halt was called, took occasion to give the man a good
looking over. He was not very well satisfied with the result of his
examination.

"How much farther do you go with us, boy?" said he.

"Not furder'n Mr. Truman's house, an' dat aint above ten mile from
hyar," was the answer.

"Truman," repeated Tom. "He's all right. I was told to stop on the way
and call upon him for anything I might need. Hurry up and take us there;
and when you do," he added in a whisper, to Rodney, "we'll say good-by
to you. You were right; he's treacherous. He's a red-eyed nigger, and
when you see a nigger of that sort you want to look out for him."

There was no need that they should "look out" for their guide now,
because there was no way in which he could betray them secretly. The
danger would arise when they stopped for the night or after they parted
from him the next morning. Then he would be at liberty to go where he
pleased, and as he was acquainted with every Union man for miles around,
it would not take him long to spread among them the report that there
was a Confederate stopping at Mr. Truman's house in company with a young
Missourian who did not want his name spoken where other folks could hear
it. If such a story as that should get wind, it would make trouble all
around--for Mr. Truman as well as for themselves; for Truman's neighbors
would want to know why he gave food and lodging to a Confederate when he
claimed to be a Union man himself. The longer Rodney thought of these
things, the more he wished himself safe back in Louisiana.

At half-past four by Tom Percival's watch the negro stopped his mule
beside a rail fence running between the woods and an old field, on whose
farther side was a snug plantation house, nestled among the trees. That
was where Mr. Truman lived, and where Merrick had told them to stop for
the nigh