lay eyes on."

"That is as it may be. Who is your colonel?"

"Nay, rather, who are you?"

I gave my name and circumstance and was loosed of the hand-grip, though
the third man dropped the cord and stepped back to hold me covered with
his rifle.

"An Ireton, you say? Not little Jock, surely!"

"No, big Jock; big enough to lay you on your back, though you do have a
hand as thick as a ham."

He ignored the challenge and stuck to his text. "I never thought to see
the son of old Mad-bull Roger wearing a red coat," he said.

"That is nothing. Many as good a Whig as I am has been forced to wear a
red coat ere this, or go barebacked. But why don't you knot the halter?
In common justice you should either hang me or feed me. 'Tis hard upon
noon, and I breakfasted early."

"Fall in!" said the big man; and so I was marched quickly aside from the
road and into the denser thicketing of the wood. Here my captors
blindfolded me, and after spinning me around to make me lose the compass
points, hurried me away to their encampment which was inland from the
stream, though not far, for I could still hear the distance-minished
splashing of the water.

When the kerchief was pulled from my eyes I was standing in the midst of
a mounted riflemen's halt-camp, face to face with a young officer
wearing the uniform of the colonelcy in the North Carolina home troops.
He was a handsome young fellow, with curling hair and trim side-whiskers
to frame a face fine-lined and eager--the face of a gentleman well-born
and well-bred.

"Captain Ireton?" he said; by which I guessed that one of my capturers
had run on ahead to make report.

"The same," I replied.

"And you are the son of Mr. Justice Roger Ireton, of Appleby Hundred?"

"I have that honor."

He gave me his hand most cordially.

"You are very welcome, Captain; Davie is my name. I trust we may come to
know each other better. You are in disguise, as I take it; do you bring
news of the army?"

"On the contrary, I am thirsting for news," I rejoined. "I and three
others have but now returned from pursuing a British and Indian powder
convoy into the mountains to the westward. We have been out five weeks
and more."

He looked at me curiously. "You and three others?" he queried. "Come
apart and tell me about it whilst Pompey is broiling the venison. I
scent a whole Iliad in that word of yours, Captain Ireton."

"One thing first, if you please, Colonel Davie," I begged. "My
companion