poke directly to the elder
of the two in the carriage. "Would you be so kind as to direct me to
where I may find the Union commander?"

"You're from John Hunt Morgan, young man?" She shut her parasol with a
snap, held it as if she was considering its use as a weapon.

"Yes, ma'am. General Morgan, Confederate Army--"

She sniffed. "You'll find their captain at the inn, probably. Yankees
and whiskey apparently have an affinity for one another. So John
Morgan's coming to pay us a visit?"

"Maybe, ma'am. And where may I find the inn?"

"Straight ahead," the girl answered. "You really are Morgan's men?"

Kirby did not have a hat to doff, but his bow in the saddle was as
graceful as Drew's.

"That's right, ma'am. My, did we know what we'd find in Bardstown now,
we'd bin ridin' in right sooner!"

"Suh! ... Louisa!" The elder lady's intimidating glare was divided, but
Drew thought that Louisa got more than a half share of it.

"No offense meant, ma'am. It's jus' that ridin' 'bout the way we do an'
all, we don't git us a chance to say Howdy to ladies." The Texan's
expression was properly contrite; his voice all diffidence.

"The inn, young men, is on down the street. Drive on, Horace!" she
ordered the coachman. But as the carriage started, she pointed her
parasol at Drew as a teacher might point an admonishing ruler at a
pupil. "I hope you'll find what you're looking for, young man. In the
way of Yankees...."

"We generally do, ma'am," Kirby commented. "For us Yankees jus' turn up
bright an' sassy all over the place."

Drew laughed. "Bright and sassy, then on the run!" For the success of
his present mission and all those listening ears he ended that boast in
as fervent a tone as he could summon.

"See that you keep them that way!" She enforced that order with a snap
of parasol being reopened as the carriage moved from the shade back into
the patch of open sunlight.

"That sure was a pretty girl," observed Driscoll as Drew and the Texan
wheeled back into line with him. "Wish we could settle down heah for say
two or three days. Git some of the dust outta our throats and have a
chance to say Howdy to some friendly folks--"

"You'd be more likely sayin' Howdy to a Yankee prison guard if you did
that," Drew replied. "Let's find this inn and the garrison commander."

"That's the proper way of layin' it out--the inn an' _then_ business.
Yankees an' whiskey go together; that's what she said, ain't it? I maybe
don't w