He belonged to
his own company in the Fourteenth Kentucky. "It 'so," he said; "he has
tuck t' other road. I tell ye, I'd know thet mar's shoe 'mong a million.
Nary one loike it wus uver seed in all Kaintuck,--only a d----d Yankee
could ha' invented it."
"And yere it ar'," shouted a man with one of the lanterns, "plain as
sun-up."
The Fourteenth Kentuckian clutched the light, and, while a dozen
dismounted and gathered round, closely examined the shoe-track. The
ground was bare on the spot, and the print of the horse's hoof was
clearly cut in the half-frozen mud. Narrowly the man looked, and life
and death hung on his eyesight. The scout took out the bullet, and
placed it in a crotch of the tree. If they took him, the Devil should
not take the dispatch. Then he drew a revolver. The mist was breaking
away, and he would surely be discovered, if the men lingered much
longer; but he would have the value of his life to the uttermost
farthing.
Meanwhile, the horsemen crowded around the foot-print, and one of them
inadvertently trod upon it. The Kentuckian looked long and earnestly,
but at last he said,--
"'Ta'n't the track.
Pages:
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197